Perspectives on Henri Lefebvre: Theory, Practices and (Re)Readings 9783110494983, 9783110494693

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Perspectives on Henri Lefebvre

SpatioTemporality/ RaumZeitlichkeit

Practices – Concepts – Media/ Praktiken – Konzepte – Medien Edited by/Herausgegeben von Sebastian Dorsch, Bärbel Frischmann, Holt Meyer, Susanne Rau, Sabine Schmolinsky, Katharina Waldner Editorial Board Jean-Marc Besse (Centre national de la recherche scientifique de Paris), Petr Bílek (Univerzita Karlova, Praha), Fraya Frehse (Universidade de São Paulo), Harry Maier (Vancouver School of Theology), Elisabeth Millán (DePaul University, Chicago), Simona Slanicka (Universität Bern), Jutta Vinzent (University of Birmingham), Guillermo Zermeño (Colegio de México)

Volume/Band 4

Perspectives on Henri Lefebvre Theory, Practices and (Re) Readings Edited by Jenny Bauer and Robert Fischer In cooperation with Sebastian Dorsch & prefaced by Susanne Rau

The publication of this book was financially supported by the Sciencefunding Erfurt gGmbh and by Erfurter RaumZeit-Gruppe (ERZ) / Erfurt SpatioTemporal Studies Group, University of Erfurt, Germany.

ISBN 978-3-11-049469-3 e-ISBN (PDF) 978-3-11-049498-3 e-ISBN (EPUB) 978-3-11-049189-0 ISSN 2365-3221 Library of Congress Control Number: 2018953238 Bibliografische Information der Deutschen Nationalbibliothek The Deutsche Nationalbibliothek lists this publication in the Deutsche Nationalbibliographie; detailed bibliographic data are available in the Internet at http://dnb.dnb.de. © 2019 Walter de Gruyter GmbH, Berlin/Boston Typesetting: Integra Software Services Pvt. Ltd. Printing and binding: CPI books GmbH, Leck Cover Image: By Verhoeff, Bert/Anefo [CC BY-SA 3.0 nl], via Wikimedia Commons Dutch National Archives, The Hague, Fotocollectie Algemeen Nederlands Persbureau (ANeFo), 1945–1989, Nummer toegang 2.24.01.05 Bestanddeelnummer 924–3417. Jahr: 1971. www.degruyter.com

Contents Susanne Rau Preface   VII Robert Fischer and Jenny Bauer Introducing Lefebvre   1

I. Theorizing Lefebvre Stephan Günzel Poetik des Raums – Bachelard und Lefebvre 

 17

Fernand Guelf Die Illusion des Fortschritts: Zwischen Vergangenheit und Zukunft. Walter Benjamin und Henri Lefebvre   36 Chris O’Kane Henri Lefebvre and the Critical Theory of Society 

 55

II. Applying Lefebvre: Urban Space Sebastian Dorsch Rereading Henri Lefebvre’s La production de l’espace: Appropriation, Nature, and Time-Space in São Paulo Spatial History at the turn from the 19th to the 20th century   77 Fraya Frehse On Regressive-Progressive Rhythmanalysis 

 95

Jacob Geuder and Lívia Alcântara (Urban) Space, Media and Protests: Digitalizing the Right to the City?   118

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III. Applying Lefebvre: Literary Space Tiziana Urbano Walking Through Constructions, Playing in the Mud: Practices of the City in Prefabricated Housing Settlements of the GDR   147 Anne Brüske Spatial Theory, Post/Colonial Perspectives, and Fiction: Reading Hispano-Caribbean Diaspora Literature in the US with Henri Lefebvre  Jenny Bauer Thirdings, Representations, Reflections: How to Grasp the Spatial Triad   205

About the authors Biographical Information 

 227

Contributors Writing about Lefebvre  Bibliographies on Lefebvre 

 233

 231

 178

Susanne Rau

Preface

“Certains naissent de façon posthume.”1 Some are born posthumously. Thus begins an article written for a French journal by Stuart Elden, a British political scientist and geographer and translator of the Éléments de rythmanalyse (1992) into English (2013). There have, in fact, been a series of works, new editions, and translations appearing only after Henri Lefebvre’s death in 1991. Yet as I will show in what follows, it would be somewhat one-sided to reduce Lefebvre’s (literary) afterlife to these publications alone, or to see, in his afterlife alone, his significance for and influence on the social sciences and cultural studies. These lines are occasioned by this publication: a series of contributions on the “theory and application” of Lefebvre in the cultural studies that originated in the context of Lefebvre workshops in Erfurt (2014), Darmstadt (2015), and Basel (2017). The project was held together, above all, by Jenny Bauer (Kassel) and Robert Fischer (Erfurt) and was initiated in cooperation with Erfurt Spatio-Temporal Studies.2 The volume reflects what has been evident for several years now in the German-speaking world, and not only here: an increased interest in Lefebvre’s theory of space – and this despite the fact that his main work on the theory of space, La Production de l’espace, has not yet been translated into German. The fascination that Lefebvre’s approach to space holds is certainly to be explained with the general spatial turn in the social sciences and cultural studies. But it must be emphasized that Lefebvre – in contrast, for example, to Michel Foucault, who is also counted among the great thinkers of space from the last century – does in fact develop a comprehensive theory and method, and that he did not just make essayistic attempts to do so. This is why part of the charm of his theory of space, which is also a critical theory of society, lies in its better applicability. Yet this theory of space is in no way all that Lefebvre’s work has to offer. A critique of everyday life, the right to the city, dialectical materialism, and rhythm

1 Elden, Stuart. “Certains naissent de façon posthume: La survie d’Henri Lefebvre”, Élise Charron and Vincent Charbonnier (trans.). Actuel Marx 36:2 (2004): 181–198. The article discusses the French reception of Lefebvre since his death in 1991. 2 Several institutions contributed financially to the project: The Lehrstuhl “Geschichte und Kulturen der Räume der Neuzeit” (Erfurt University); the DFG Research Training Group “Dynamics of Space and Gender” (Universities of Kassel and Göttingen); the DFG Research Training Group “Topology of Technology” (TU Darmstadt); the Graduate School of Social Sciences (G3S) (University of Basel). Note: Translated by Michael Thomas Taylor. https://doi.org/10.1515/9783110494983-201

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analysis are likewise terms that can be connected with Lefebvre, who was at once a philosopher, sociologist, urban theorist, and publicist. And this is the reason that the resurrected Lefebvre can today appear in different guises depending on the historical, spatial or academic context. There were also periods of time after 1991 in which – in complete contrast to today, 2018 – he had already been declared dead. In what follows, I will sketch the basis of the – constantly changing – current relevance and visibility that Lefebvre has experienced since his death, above all in France, to then engage with his reception in Germany.

1 Lefebvre’s various afterlives, above all in France In 1994, the journal Espaces et sociétés, founded in 1970 by Henri Lefebvre and Anatole Kopp, published a special topic issue on the “current relevance” of Henri Lefebvre. The issue was occasioned by the question of whether Lefebvre’s thought remained relevant following the dissolution of the Soviet Union and the failure of the workers’ movement. The contributions to the issue replied in various ways that certainly emphasized Lefebvre’s originality and the power of his vision. What is striking from today’s perspective, however, is the editors’ assertion that, only three years after his death, Lefebvre had been forgotten. The editors considered this forgetting to be evident even among the sociologists Lefebvre had taught at the universities of Strasbourg and Nanterre – exactly where, in other words, the student movement had begun and where students had learned, the editors argue, to critically question society.3 In the rest of their introduction, however, the editors also turn to Lefebvre’s work to find reasons 3 Coornaert, Monique and Jean-Pierre Garnier. “Présentation: Actualités de Henri Lefebvres” Espaces et sociétés 76 (1994): 5–11, here 6: “Mais, avant de présenter quelques-uns des axes autour desquels s’organisent les articles […] un point semble mériter de retenir l’attention: la désaffection dont souffre la pensée de Henri Lefebvre, aujourd’hui, alors que, décédé depuis peu (juin 1991), il n’a cessé, jusqu’au bout, d’être publié, interviewé, interpellé. Cet oubli apparaît particulièrement manifeste chez les sociologues dans le champ même de celui qui enseigna la sociologie à l’Université de Strasbourg puis de Nanterre, là où prit naissance un mouvement étudiant dont beaucoup de protagonistes avaient d’ailleurs appris dans les cours de Henri Lefebvre à ‘contester’ la société.” [“But before presenting some of the axes around which the articles are organized (...) one point seems to deserve attention: the disaffection from which the  thought of Henri Lefebvre suffers today, recently deceased (June 1991), he continued, until the end, being published, interviewed, questioned. This oversight seems particularly evident among sociologists in the very place where he taught sociology, at the Universities of Strasbourg and Nanterre – the place where the student movement began and where many of that movement’s leaders had learned to ‘challenge’ society in Henri Lefebvre’s classes.”]

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for this forgetting. First, they argue that Lefebvre’s influence during his life had always been only partial; it had been frequently focused on social problems, and less so on the theoretical-methodological elements of his work. Second, they argue that many of Lefebvre’s themes had been quickly popularized. In their view, researchers, practitioners, politicians, and journalists appropriated some of Lefebvre’s ideas – for example, the “civilisation urbaine” – only to then decontextualize and depoliticize them, making them into clichés. And third, they suggest that several of the shortcomings and ambiguities in Lefebvre’s work could themselves have contributed to a gradual turning away from his writings. It was apparent even at the time in France that there was significant interest in Lefebvre’s work in the Anglo-American world, which could be traced to the translation of La production de l’espace – for the editors, a strangely postmodern interpretation that did not really do justice to Lefebvre in his role as a progressive intellectual. Just four years later in 1998, another text appeared dedicated to the “current relevance” of Henri Lefebvre’s thought.4 The spatial and urban planner Laurent Devisme saw Le droit à la ville (The Right to the City) as a leitmotiv of French urban policy from the 1990s. At the same time, he points toward the much older fact that Lefebvre’s works that engage with the city were already being discussed in academic urban studies beginning at the end of the 1960s. Here we find, in other words, a gentle rebuke of the common reductions of Lefebvre and his work.5 But Devisme also intends to point toward the contemporary relevance of Lefebvre’s thought by confronting some of its aspects with the contemporary urban reality. For Devisme, this is – in addition to the general increase in urbanization – the concept or form of centrality. Lefebvre sees the city as characterized chiefly by centrality, but this does not mean the geographic center. Centrality exists where many things come together, where intensive communication and exchange take place; it is a place of convergence, the negation of distance, and the production of simultaneity. Urban centrality can be analyzed with Lefebvre’s triad: as conceived, perceived, and lived space. Or to put it differently: centrality (a form, not a content) allows urbanity to originate or, conversely, follows from urbanity. In 2006, the geographer Jean-Yves Martin published an article guided by the idea of making Henri Lefebvre more well known, especially in French geography,

4 Devisme, Laurent. Actualité de la pensée d’Henri Lefebvre à propos de l’urbain: La question de la centralité. Tours: Maison des sciences de la ville, 1998. 5 Devisme, Laurent. “Lefebvre, Henri” In: Dictionnaire de la géographie et de l’espace des sociétés, Jacques Lévy and Michel Lussault (eds.), 546 f. Paris: Belin, 2003.

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as a “spatiologue” (a scholar of space).6 Following a brief introduction to several concepts concerned with the theory of space (“production,” “triplicité,” and “conflictualité”) and to the dialectical method that is also important for the analysis of space, Martin examines works from contemporary geographers to show how these scholars have been inspired by Lefebvre, and also how they further develop and update his thought. We should probably consider it telling for this moment in time that all of these authors were working on different continents: Rob Shields in Canada, Edward Soja in the United States, Ana Fani Alessandri Carlos, Amélia Luísa Damiani, and Cláudio Roberto Duarte in Brazil. The author nevertheless laments that most geographers continue to work with dualities of “espace/territoire” and to pay too little attention to users of space. But Lefebvre’s understanding of space included its permanent reproduction through its use, which is also what transformed space into an “œuvre collective (générique),” meaning joint effort of all human beings.7 Since 2009, the tide appears to have been gradually turning. Booksellers celebrated Lefebvre as one of the greatest philosophers of the twentieth century and an author who was experiencing a worldwide rediscovery.8 On the occasion of the fiftieth anniversary of its first publication, the Éditions Economica reissued La somme et le reste (1959). Le droit à la ville (from 1968) was also published in a third edition. It should also be mentioned that an intellectual biography of Lefebvre, written by the educator Hugues Lethierry, a student of Lefebvre in Nanterre, appeared in 2009.9 Two years later, in the preface to another book edited by Hugues Lethierry that brought together brief contributions by various authors under the motto of “Lefebvre studies,” Andy Merrifield wrote that 2009 had been a significant year for French research into Lefebvre, who, Merrifield claimed, had until then been valued only as an export.10 However unorthodox Lethierry’s book may have been it played a highly significant role in reawakening Lefebvre’s memory in France. In another book, also published as an edited volume, Lethierry 6 Martin, Jean-Yves. “Une géographie critique de l’espace du quotidien: L’actualité mondialisée de la pensée spatiale d’Henri Lefebvre” Journal of Urban Research [Online] 2 (2006), online since July 17, 2006, http://journals.openedition.org/articulo/897 (12/04/18). 7 Martin, Une géographie critique, 5. 8 See https://www.eyrolles.com/Accueil/Auteur/henri-lefebvre-94535 (28/04/18). 9 Lethierry, Hugues. Penser avec Henri Lefebvre: Sauver la vie et la ville? Lyon: Chronique Sociale, 2009. In this context, we should not completely forget another of Lefebvre’s students, Rémi Hess, who wrote about his teacher even before Lefebvre died, and who has administered Lefebvre’s papers since his death, meaning he has published some of Lefebvre’s writings. See, among other things, Hess, Rémi. Henri Lefebvre et l’aventure du siècle. Paris: A.M. Métailié, 1988. 10 Merrifield, Andy. “Préface.” In: Sauve qui peu la ville: Études lefebvriennes, Hugues Lethierry (ed.), 17–23. Paris: L’Harmattan, 2001.

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aims to move forward from thinking to acting.11 Lethierry’s political (Marxist) interest in Lefebvre is evident here, although several of the contributions show that Lefebvre’s own afterlife had continued to develop in the meantime. Since this turning point in 2009, Lefebvre has also reappeared in his home country in various guises. In 2011, on the occasion of the twentieth anniversary of his death, two conferences took place at the University of Nanterre: “Henri Lefebvre in Urban Studies Today: The Right to the City” (June 10) and “Henri Lefebvre: Thought Become World?” (September 27–28).12 Several of the contributions to the second conference were published one year later in a special issue of the journal L’Homme et la société. That publication speaks of a rediscovery, without however lamenting any absence. Quite the opposite: the issue emphasizes Lefebvre’s relevance today. The blurb on the cover reads: “Never has any age been as subject to managerial and technical rationality as ours. Henri Lefebvre’s thought, then, has made a world appearance/has appeared as a world.”13 This somewhat unusual formulation – “une pensée devenue/apparue monde” – is an entirely original play on words, the meaning of which only becomes clear from context: it combines the observation that Lefebvre’s thought has since become known worldwide with the assertion that it also helps to understand (the problems of) today’s world. I cannot precisely say how Lefebvre, who was a critical intellectual and not prone to aligning himself with mass movements, would have reacted to this claim. Still, the formulation “pensée devenue monde” essentially amounts to the highest accolade that can be given to an engaged intellectual. In the meantime, Sylvain Sangla had also defended a geophilosophical dissertation on politics and space in Henri Lefebvre at the University of Paris 8.14 Since 2010, a transdisciplinary research platform on rhythms has existed in the sciences, philosophy, and the arts.15 This platform, primarily initiated by the philosopher Paul Michon, also indirectly follows Lefebvre’s goal of transforming the analysis of rhythm into a kind of universal science in which the natural and social sciences, the humanities, and the arts come together to eventually produce a new

11 Lethierry, Hugues (ed.). Agir avec Henri Lefebvre: Altermarxiste? Géographe radical? Lyon: Chronique Sociale, 2015. 12 “Henri Lefebvre dans les études urbaines aujourd’hui: le droit à la ville” and “Henri Lefebvre: une pensée devenue monde?” 13 L’Homme et la société 3–4 (2012). 14 Sangla, Sylvain. Politique et espace chez Henri Lefebvre. Doctoral thesis. Saint Denis: Université Paris 8 Saint-Denis, 2010. Online: Bibliothèque numérique Paris 8, http://octaviana.fr/ document/152263594 (28/04/18). 15 Rhuthmos. Plateforme internationale et transdisciplinaire de recherche sur les rythmes dans les sciences, les philosophies et les arts, https://rhuthmos.eu/ (28/04/18).

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social theory. The platform contributes to this aim by inviting authors from widely diverse disciplines to participate in a dialogue about rhythms. Lefebvre’s increasing presence among the living is also evident in how his theories have trickled down into books intended as academic introductions, especially to geography and urban sociology. Jean Rémy, a long-time member of the editorial board for the journal Espaces et sociétés, argues in the very title of the introduction that he published in 2015 that space is a central category for sociology, essentially basing his arguments on Lefebvre’s triad.16 And in JeanMarc Stébé’s brief introduction to urban sociology, which was first published in 2007 and appeared in a fifth edition in 2016, we read that Lefebvre’s hypothesis is being increasingly confirmed by global urbanization.17 Although the book discusses other theoretical approaches, Lefebvre’s works on space and the city appear again and again (La révolution urbaine, Le droit à la ville, La production de l‘espace). For the fiftieth anniversary of the first edition of Le droit à la ville, colloquiums, public discussions, and small exhibitions took place at various locations in France (Paris City Hall, the University of Tours, the University of Paris-Est Créteil, the University of Lyon, the University of Rennes 2, the University of Paris-Nanterre, etc.). It’s as if things had never been otherwise: Lefebvre, the intellectual, who can help us to find solutions for the problems of today’s society.

2 Lefebvre in the German-speaking world Thinking about Lefebvre’s reception beyond the French-speaking world is not only justified by the fact that he posthumously moves among the great thinkers of space. We should also ask this question because his written legacy does not allow us to overlook the fact that he was exceptionally familiar with the writings of Hegel, Marx, and Nietzsche. Moreover, he took concerned interest in Germany beginning in the 1930s and published work in France on Hitler’s fascism.18 What happens, then, with these varied interests after they had been integrated into scholarship, or with Lefebvre’s own ideas and concepts after they had again been passed back over to the other side of the Rhine. The reciprocal process of this intellectual exchange of gifts, as we might call it, can be gauged first of all in the translation of Lefebvre’s works into German and their – in part – very successful sales numbers. 16 Rémy, Jean. L’espace, un objet central de la sociologie. Toulouse: Éditions érès, 2015. 17 Stébé, Jean-Marc and Hervé Marchal. La sociologie urbaine. (Que sais-je?) Paris: PUF, 2016. 18 For example: Lefebvre, Henri. Hitler au pouvoir: Les enseignements de cinq années de fascisme en Allemagne. Paris: Bureau d’éditions, 1938.

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Title

Translated by

Year published, publisher

Problèmes actuels du marxisme

Alfred Schmidt

1965, Suhrkamp, 6 editions through 1971: 40,000 copies sold

La révolution urbaine

Ulrike Roeckl Ulrike Roeckl

1972, List 1976, Syndikat 1990, Hain 2003, Dresden-Postplatz, Stephan Greene, and B-Books

Sociologie de Marx

Beate Rehschuh

1972, Suhrkamp

Critique de la vie quotidienne

Karl Held Burkhart Kroeber Burkhart Kroeber

1974, Hanser 1977, Athenäum 1987, Fischer Taschenbuch

Le matérialisme dialectique

Alfred Schmidt

1966, Suhrkamp, 5 editions through 1971: 36,000 copies sold

La vie quotidienne dans le monde moderne

Annegret Dumasy

1972, Suhrkamp

Le langage et la société

Erwin Stegentritt

1973, Schwann

La survie du capitalisme

Bernd Lächler

1974, List

Métaphilosophie

Burkhart Kroeber

1975, Suhrkamp

La pensée marxiste et la ville

Christel Leclère

1975, Otto Maier

Le marxisme

Beate Rehschuh

1975, Beck

Introduction à la modernité: Préludes

Bernd Schwibs

1978, Suhrkamp

La révolution n’est plus ce qu’elle était

Burkhart Kroeber

1979, Hanser

Le droit à la ville

Birgit Althaler

2016, Nautilus

Since the 1980s, there have been fewer translations into German, although several new editions have appeared (especially of La révolution urbaine). In contrast, the number of translations into English has been increasing, which is probably a sign that Lefebvre’s work is starting to be received in Anglo-American sociology and human geography. This list shows, among other things, that Lefebvre has been read in the German-speaking world since at least the 1960s. This history nevertheless evinces a strange asymmetry: work translated on early topics is hardly interesting anymore today. By contrast, Lefebvre’s frequently cited writings on space – with the exception of individual passages or chapters – were not translated into German, even though they were widely received, especially in cultural

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studies.19 Of course here, too, we ought to ask the questions that were already raised in 1994 in the special issue of Espaces et sociétés on Lefebvre. A certain reticence about Lefebvre may also be explained – especially in Germany – by the Marxist influences on his theory. Yet as far as the further reception of his writings in German philosophy, sociology, and urban studies is concerned, we still lack a comprehensive analysis. Today, Lefebvre is once again being read in the German-speaking world, including his scholarship on the city. In 2014, La révolution urbaine was republished in German as Revolution der Städte by the Europäische Verlagsanstalt. In 2015, the Viennese journal Dérive devoted a special issue to Lefebvre.20 And in 2016, almost fifty years after Le droit à la ville was published in French, the book appeared for the first time in German as Das Recht auf Stadt.21 The timing of the translation can be explained by the rise of the right-to-city movements, as they exist, for example, in Hamburg. With their demands for affordable housing and more participation and dialogue to shape what happens in urban space, and in their protest marches against inner-city gentrification, these movements repeatedly refer to Lefebvre’s text, even if this is not always directly evident from their websites and protest signs.22 The explicit references are nonetheless to be found in statements made by the intellectual leaders of the movements and in social science research on recent urban social movements.23 All signs thus seem to point to a Lefebvre renaissance integrating the analysis of space and urban research. On the horizon, we can also glimpse the analysis of rhythm, in which Lefebvre saw a close collaboration between humanities, social sciences, and life sciences.24 It is to this – now third – renaissance of Lefebvre studies that this volume in the series SpatioTemporality: Practices – Concepts – Media aims to make a contribution of its own.

19 Dorsch, Sebastian and Susanne Rau (eds.). Historical Social Research 38 (2013). Special Issue: “Space/Time Practices and the Production of Space and Time”; Rau, Susanne. Räume: Konzepte, Wahrnehmungen, Praktiken. Frankfurt a.M.: Campus, 2013, 47–52, 74–80; 2nd edition 2017, 73–78. 20 Laimer, Christoph and Elke Rauth (eds.). Dérive: Zeitschrift für Stadtforschung 60 (2015). Special Issue: “Henri Lefebvre und das Recht auf Stadt. 15 Jahre dérive”. 21 Lefebvre, Henri. Das Recht auf Stadt. Hamburg: Edition Nautilus, 2016. 22 Recht auf Stadt: Netzwerk von Hamburger Initiativen für eine Stadt für alle, http://www. rechtaufstadt.net/ (10/05/18). 23 Boeing, Niels. Von Wegen: Überlegungen zur freien Stadt der Zukunft. Hamburg: Nautilus, 2015; Holm, Andrej and Dirk Gebhardt (eds.). Initiativen für ein Recht auf Stadt: Theorie und Praxis städtischer Aneignungen. Hamburg: VSA, 2011. 24 Schmolinsky, Sabine, Diana Hitzke and Heiner Stahl (eds.). Taktungen und Rhythmen: Raumzeitliche Perspektiven interdisziplinär. Berlin/Boston: de Gruyter, 2018.

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References Boeing, Niels. Von Wegen: Überlegungen zur freien Stadt der Zukunft. Hamburg: Nautilus, 2015. Coornaert, Monique and Jean-Pierre Garnier. “Présentation: Actualités de Henri Lefebvres” Espaces et sociétés 76 (1994): 5–11. Devisme, Laurent. “Lefebvre, Henri” In: Dictionnaire de la géographie et de l’espace des sociétés, Jacques Lévy and Michel Lussault (eds.), 546–547. Paris: Belin, 2003. Devisme, Laurent. Actualité de la pensée d’Henri Lefebvre à propos de l’urbain: La question de la centralité. Tours: Maison des sciences de la ville, 1998. Dorsch, Sebastian and Susanne Rau (eds.). Special Issue: “Space/Time Practices and the Production of Space and Time” Historical Social Research 38 (2013). Elden, Stuart. “Certains naissent de façon posthume: La survie d’Henri Lefebvre”, Élise Charron and Vincent Charbonnier (trans.). Actuel Marx 36:2 (2004): 181–198. Hess, Rémi. Henri Lefebvre et l’aventure du siècle. Paris: A.M. Métailié, 1988. Holm, Andrej and Dirk Gebhardt (eds.). Initiativen für ein Recht auf Stadt: Theorie und Praxis städtischer Aneignungen. Hamburg: VSA, 2011. Laimer, Christoph and Elke Rauth (eds.). Special Issue: “Henri Lefebvre und das Recht auf Stadt. 15 Jahre dérive”. Dérive: Zeitschrift für Stadtforschung 60 (2015). Lefebvre, Henri. Das Recht auf Stadt. Hamburg: Edition Nautilus, 2016. Lefebvre, Henri. Hitler au pouvoir: Les enseignements de cinq années de fascisme en Allemagne. Paris: Bureau d’éditions, 1938. Lethierry, Hugues (ed.). Agir avec Henri Lefebvre: Altermarxiste? Géographe radical? Lyon: Chronique Sociale, 2015. Lethierry, Hugues. Penser avec Henri Lefebvre: Sauver la vie et la ville? Lyon: Chronique Sociale, 2009. Martin, Jean-Yves. “Une géographie critique de l’espace du quotidien: L’actualité mondialisée de la pensée spatiale d’Henri Lefebvre” Journal of Urban Research [Online] 2 (2006), online since July 17, 2006, http://journals.openedition.org/articulo/897 (12/04/18). Merrifield, Andy. “Préface” In: Sauve qui peu la ville: Études lefebvriennes, Hugues Lethierry (ed.), 17–23. Paris: L’Harmattan, 2001. Rau, Susanne. Räume: Konzepte, Wahrnehmungen, Praktiken. Frankfurt a.M.: Campus, 2013. Recht auf Stadt: Netzwerk von Hamburger Initiativen für eine Stadt für alle, http://www. rechtaufstadt.net/(10/05/18). Rémy, Jean. L’espace, un objet central de la sociologie. Toulouse: Éditions érès, 2015. Rhuthmos. Plateforme internationale et transdisciplinaire de recherche sur les rythmes dans les sciences, les philosophies et les arts, https://rhuthmos.eu/(28/04/18). Sangla, Sylvain. Politique et espace chez Henri Lefebvre. Doctoral thesis. Saint Denis: Université Paris 8 Saint-Denis, 2010. Online: Bibliothèque numérique Paris 8, http://octaviana.fr/ document/152263594 (28/04/18). Schmolinsky, Sabine, Diana Hitzke and Heiner Stahl (eds.). Taktungen und Rhythmen: Raumzeitliche Perspektiven interdisziplinär. Berlin/Boston: de Gruyter, 2018. Stébé, Jean-Marc and Hervé Marchal. La sociologie urbaine. (Que sais-je?) Paris: PUF, 2016.

Robert Fischer and Jenny Bauer

Introducing Lefebvre

Since the onset of the spatial turn a seemingly unlimited amount of theories and concepts about spatiality have emerged or have been revisited. The theories provided by Henri Lefebvre1 stood at the core of this development when Edward Soja popularized Lefebvre’s spatial triad.2 Lefebvre’s spatial triad is embedded in an advanced, multisided spatial theory that is deeply concerned with questions of power and domination and seems ideal for an interdisciplinary approach. But Lefebvre’s spatial triad comes with a package. His extensive oeuvre, his intricate concepts that tend to get more complicated the more you read of his works, his unconventional tone and meandering writing style, the lack of (well researched) translations which is slowly changing, his rather vague referencing methods, his unclear connection to contemporary intellectuals as well as the multiple, partly contradictory interpretation of his works in secondary literature often stand in the way of an easy access to his spatial theory.3 As ongoing doctoral candidates, we were confronted with all these difficulties. Lefebvre’s concepts were appealing but somewhat inaccessible. As further studies of the literature proved unrewarding, we resorted to ‘group therapy’ and initiated the ‘Lefebvre Reading Group’ in 2014. The group would be dedicated to the close study of his texts and interdisciplinary exchange to grasp as much of an understanding about his concepts as possible. From 2014 to 2017 we organized three thematically diverse workshops. The reading group mainly focused on the interdisciplinary exchange and on the discussion of Lefebvrean terminologies that went beyond the well examined spatial triad delving into various concepts such as the residual, heterotopy and poiesis.4 This edition is based on these workshops. It collects the contributions and serves to further the interdisciplinary 1 See Lefebvre, Henri. The Production of Space. Oxford: Blackwell, 1991 [1974]. 2 See Soja, Edward W. Postmodern Geographies. The Reassertion of Space in Critical Social Theory. London/New York: Routledge, 1989. Christian Schmid i.e. points out that especially the spatial triad is often adopted out of its context and thus misunderstood. See Schmid, Christian. Stadt, Raum und Gesellschaft. Henri Lefebvre und die Theorie der Produktion des Raumes. München: Franz Steiner Verlag, 2005, 292–311. 3 For more information on the reception of Lefebvre see Susanne Rau’s preface in this edition. 4 See Meyer, Philipp. “Review of Workshop: Lefebvre lesen. Plurale Zugänge zu einem vernachlässigten Raumdenker des 20. Jahrhunderts”. H-Soz-u-Kult, H-Net Reviews. October, 2014. http:// www.h-net.org/reviews/showrev.php?id=42565 (21/07/18); https://doi.org/10.1515/9783110494983-001

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exchange including various fields: philosophy, literary and media studies, sociology, and history. Without the existence of the Lefebvre reading group, the endeavor of this edition would not have been possible. At this point we would like to thank all the participants and co-organizers of the workshops who enabled us to create a trusting and productive atmosphere in order to foster the exchange of our knowledge on Lefebvre. In particular, we would like to thank Sebastian Dorsch and Susanne Rau who guided us through most of the process and helped us solve various problematic situations on the way. Concerning institutional and financial support we are in great debt especially to the Erfurt SpaceTime Research Group (Erfurt) as well as the DFG research training group Dynamics of Space and Gender (Göttingen/ Kassel) and the DFG research training group Topology of Technology (Darmstadt). In this regard we also would like to thank Sciencefunding Erfurt gGmbH and Erfurter RaumZeit-Gruppe (ERZ) / Erfurt SpatioTemporal Studies Group, University of Erfurt, Germany which supported the publication of this book financially. Most importantly we are very grateful to all the contributors in this edition. Thank you very much for your patience and for sharing your insights about Lefebvre. Last but not least the editors would like to thank each other for carrying on with this project over several eventful years, pushing and supporting the other when necessary. This edition is divided into three parts: The first part comprises articles with a strong theoretical approach. The parts two and three compile articles that seek to operationalize Lefebvre’s concepts from perspectives of urban and literary spaces thus putting these concepts into practice as the title of the book suggests. The three sections deal with a diverse range of topics trying to contribute to various debates as we elaborate below.

1 Theorizing Lefebvre As explicated in the Preface, the reception of Lefebvre as a philosopher takes different courses in France, in the Anglo-American area and in Germany. This section is dedicated to the examination of intellectual influences between Lefebvre and Erfurter RaumZeit-Forschung (ERZ): “Workshop ‘Raum anders denken. Die Begriffe der Raumtrias, des Residualen und der Heterotopie bei Henri Lefebvre’”, May, 2015, Darmstadt. https://www.uni-erfurt.de/fileadmin/public-docs/RaumZeitForschung/Workshops/Lefebvre_ Workshop_Raum_anders_denken.pdf (21/07/18); Erfurter RaumZeit-Forschung (ERZ): “Workshop ‘Everyday Poiesis – zur Platzierung des Politischen bei Lefebvre’”, May, 2017, Basel”. https://www.uni-erfurt.de/fileadmin/public-docs/ RaumZeitForschung/Workshops/Einladung_Lefebvre_Workshop_Everyday_poeisis.pdf (21/07/18).

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some of his contemporaries. Stephan Günzel embeds Lefebvre’s theory of the production of space in a wider context of the philosophical discussion about space. He presents the philosopher Gaston Bachelard’s La poétique de l’espace (1957) along with Lefebvre’s La production de l’espace (1974) as the first writings within this debate that conceptualized space as a relational entity by focusing on the cultural aspects of producing space. An important difference between these two thinkers lies in the significance they ascribe to dialectics: While Lefebvre uses it as an instrument for social analysis, for Bachelard, the dialectics of space between inside and outside is constitutional. Spotlighting on different theories of space from the angel of Lefebvre’s terminology of the conceptual triad, Günzel advocates a ‘reflected theory of space’ that is open to transdisciplinary approaches. Another aspect of intellectual history can be seen in the (non)existent connections between Lefebvre and other leftist philosophers. Lefebvre is considered to be one of the intellectual spokesmen of the student’s revolt in Paris in May 1968. As a philosopher, on the one hand Lefebvre gave much thought to German idealism (Schelling) and, as is known, to Hegel’s und Marx’s dialectic.5 It was him who introduced Marx as a theorist in France.6 However, on the other hand until today only very little is known about the influences Lefebvre’s works might have had on intellectuals in Germany during his lifetime.7 Given the fact that both Lefebvre’s theoretical positions and methodical conclusions show similarities to critical theory, German philosopher Helmut Fahrenbach is quite astounded that the authors associated with Frankfurt School, especially Jürgen Habermas, seemed to have ignored Lefebvre’s work for the most part.8 In our book, Chris O’Kane opens this perspective on Lefebvre’s social theory comparing it to Theodor Adorno’s critical theory. In particular O’Kane connects Adorno’s and Lefebvre’s notions about Marx’s critique of fetishism. Whereas Adorno uses Marx’s ansatz to critique the capitalistic exchange dynamic and the constituent autonomous supraindividual social domination of contemporary 5 See Schwab, Jens Peter. ‘L’Homme Total’. Die Entfremdungsproblematik im Werk von Henri Lefebvre. Frankfurt a.M.: Peter Lang, 1983, 62–70. 6 See Schwab, ‘L’Homme Total’, 10. 7 The same seems to be true for the Anglo-American reception. See Aronowitz, Stanley. “The Ignored Philosopher and Social Theorist: The Work of Henri Lefebvre” Situations 2:1 (2007): 133–155, here 133 f. 8 See Fahrenbach, Helmut. “Henri Lefebvres ‘Metaphilosophie’ der Praxis” In: Grundlinien und Perspektiven einer Philosophie der Praxis, Michael Grauer and Wolfdietrich Schmied-Kowarzik (eds.), 80–108. Kassel: IAG Philosophie, 1982, 82. Ulrich Müller-Schöll is highlighting analogies between Lefebvre and Ernst Bloch. See MüllerSchöll, Ulrich. Das System und der Rest. Kritische Theorie in der Perspektive Henri Lefebvres. Mössingen-Talheim: Talheimer, 1999.

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capitalist society, Lefebvre applies the concept to enlarge his spatial theory by an abstract space which is characterized by its commodity form and expedites the alienation of the individual in capitalist society. Combining the two authors O’Kane formulates a theory of the reproduction of neoliberal society which captures every niche of society. Even Lefebvre’s “romantic notion of humanism” – the essence of human resistance to capitalist alienation – cannot escape this development. At the same time this combined critical theory of contemporary society points to moments of possible transformation of society. All absence of direct intellectual exchange aside, Lefebvre cannot have been nameless to German leftist discourse, as for instance he is mentioned in Hans Magnus Enzensberger’s famous essay “Baukasten zu einer Theorie der Medien”.9 In this socialist media theory, Enzensberger is presenting electronic media as an agent of mass consumption: Henri Lefèbvre hat für die gegenwärtige Verfassung des Massenkonsums den Begriff des spectacle,10 der Schaustellung vorgeschlagen. Waren und Schaufenster, Straßenverkehr und Reklame, Kaufhaus und Signalwelt, Nachrichten und Verpackungen, Architektur und Medienproduktion rücken zu einer Totalität zusammen, zu einer permanenten Inszenierung, welche nicht nur die öffentlichen Stadtzentren, sondern auch die privaten Interieurs beherrscht.11

For Enzensberger, the spectacle of consumption is giving the (false) promise to let a lack or an absence which he describes as a utopian need “nach einer Entgrenzung der Umwelt, nach einer Ästhetik, die sich nicht auf die Sphäre des ‘Kunstschönen’ beschränkt”.12 Enzensberger’s definition of people’s “utopian need” for an art of living reminds, of course, to Lefebvre’s description of poiesis and of the vécu. 9 Enzensberger, Hans Magnus. “Baukasten zu einer Theorie der Medien” In: Texte zur Medientheorie, Günter Helmes and Werner Köster (eds.), 254–275. Stuttgart: Reclam, 2002 [1970]. 10 It can be assumed that Lefebvre, in turn, did not invent the term “spectacle” originally, but that he was referring to the situationist Guy Debord’s work La société du spectacle (Engl. The Society of Spectacle) (1967). 11 Enzensberger, Baukasten, 263 f. “Henri Lefèbvre has proposed the concept of the spectacle, the exhibition, the show, to fit the present form of mass consumption. Goods and shop windows, traffic and advertisements, stores and the world of communications, news and packaging, architecture and media production come together from a totality, a permanent theatre, which dominates not only the public centers but also private interiors.” (Transl.: “Constituents of a Theory of the Media” In: The New Media Reader, Noah Wardrip-Fruin and Nick Montfort (eds.), 259–276. Cambridge (Mass.): The MIT Press, 2003, 268.) 12 Enzensberger, Baukasten, 264. “This need – it is a utopian one – […] is the desire […] for a breaking down environmental barriers, for an aesthetic which is not limited to the sphere of ‘the artistic.’” (Transl.: Constituents, 268)

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The description of emerging capitalism’s spectacles, the importance of commodities and the interpretation of warehouses as the ‘temples’ of modern society are well-known from Walter Benjamin’s writings, especially from his text collection about the Parisian arcades (Arcades Project). In this edition, Fernand Guelf is comparing central thoughts about modernity in Henri Lefebvre’s and Walter Benjamin’s writings. Guelf shows that both authors claim that modernity’s complexity leads to the moral and intellectual disorientation of the human being, and both assume, just like Enzensberger, that there is a utopian consciousness of the masses. Both writers are, although drawing different conclusions, concerned with the relation between the past, the present and the future. And for both, their critique of modernity as well as technology becomes the starting point for defining a form of revolutionary action that is inspired by the utopian theories of the French socialist philosopher Charles Fourier.

2 Applying Lefebvre: Urban Space Thinking of Enzensberger’s claim for an emancipatory use of media,13 Jacob Geuder’s and Lívia Alcântara’s contribution on media-activism in Rio de Janeiro can be considered as an update of the discussion above in the digital era. In their article they examine the processes of digitalization in urban movements in Rio de Janeiro adapting Lefebvre’s right to the city to disentangle the web of spaces, media and protest. Furthermore, Geuder and Alcântara look into Lefebvre’s concept of centrality and apply it to the situation of media activists in Rio de Janeiro concluding that the digital practices can be seen as part of a differential centrality in the city. With Lefebvre’s theoretical background they are able to take a more integrated approach of analyzing urban movements as well as prove the applicability of Lefebvre concepts to the digitalization of urban spaces. It is not a coincidence that there are no less than three contributions especially on Brazilian urban space in this edition. Whereas the French science and humanities have been exerting a strong influence on the Brazilian intellectual scene at least since the 19th century it was Brazilian sociologist José de Souza Martins who introduced Henri Lefebvre to the scientific community in Brazil in the late 20th century.14

13 See Enzensberger, Baukasten, 265. (Transl.: Constituents, 269) 14 See Stanek, Łukasz. Henri Lefebvre on Space. Architecture, Urban Research, and the Production of Theory. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2011, Chapter “Introduction”, fn 20. However, there supposedly existed several ways of introducing Lefebvre into Brazilian

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Our author Fraya Frehse is rooted in this sociological school that concentrates on an analysis of urban public spaces such as streets and squares looking in particular at the concepts of modernity and reappropriation of these spaces. In her article she focuses on the combination of Lefebvre’s regressiveprogressive method and rhythmanalysis merging the permeation of the human body in everyday life with an analysis of social transformation. This way Frehse links historical dimensions of time namely ‘past’, ‘present’ and ‘future’ to everyday practices of human bodies in urban space. With this methodological set Frehse takes a synchronic perspective on similarities and differences regarding pedestrians in the city of São Paulo and a diachronic perspective on the historical production concerning body behavior and the rules in public spaces. Her findings suggest a strong premodern influence on body rhythms in today’s pedestrians in São Paulo which is being contradicted by modern regulatory measurements. Whereas Frehse can build on a broad range of secondary literature on urban sociology that is based on Lefebvre, the reception of his works is still rather uncommon in other fields such as history. With the advent of the spatial turn, the interest in Lefebvre as one of the central figures has been growing since in the field of history. New works especially in the area of urban history draw on Lefebvre and certain concepts such as the right to the city or his conception of the spatial triad.15 However, the consequential application of his theory in historical research is still

society as Marie Huchzermeyer elaborated suggesting a possible adaptation of his concept of right to the city in the 1960s and 1970s. See Huchzermeyer, Marie: “Reading Lefebvre from the ‘Global South’. The Legal Dimension of his Rights to the City”, UHURU Seminar Series, Rhodes University, May 2015. https://www.ru.ac.za/media/rhodesuniversity/content/uhuru/ documents/Marie%20Huchzermeyer%20Reading%20Henri%20Lefebvre%20from%20the%20 global%20south-UHURU%20Seminars%2020%20May%202015.pdf (20/07/18). 15 This is especially the case for Germany: See Altenburg, Jan Philipp. Machtraum Großstadt. Zur Aneignung und Kontrolle des Stadtraums in Frankfurt am Main und Philadelphia in den 1920er Jahren. Köln: Böhlau, 2013; Fischer, Robert. Sex im Grenzbereich – Sexualität, Devianz und Regulierung in den US-amerikanischen Grenzstädten Ciudad Juárez und El Paso, 1880– 1950 [dissertation thesis, 2016, unpublished]; Klopfer, Nadine. Die Ordnung der Stadt. Die Ordnung der Stadt – Raum und Gesellschaft in Montreal (1880–1930). Köln: Böhlau, 2010; Rau, Susanne. Räume der Stadt – Eine Geschichte Lyons, 1300–1800. Frankfurt a. M.: Campus, 2014; Dorsch, Sebastian. “Urban Phenomena in São Paulo’s Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries: Appropriating Local Spatio-Temporalities” Tempo Social Revista da Sociologica da USP (2019) [forthcoming]. Stanek pointed towards this situation in Germany in 2007: Stanek, Łukasz. “Methodologies and Situations of Urban Research. Re-reading Henri Lefebvre’s ‘The Production of Space’” Zeithistorische Forschungen/ Studies in Contemporary History 4:3 (2007), 461–465. Maybe the forthcoming German translation of Lefebvre’s La production de l’espace can stimulate more

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the exception.16 Research with Lefebvre outside the urban context in the discipline of history is virtually nonexistent.17 This is remarkable as Lefebvre has a distinct historical notion in his analysis with societies producing space also in a diachronic perspective. With this temporal view, Lefebvre’s concept of space possesses a strong dynamic. Furthermore, Lefebvre himself wrote as a historian for example about the turmoil in Paris in 1968.18 In addition to that Lefebvre conceptually thought about history putting it into a progressive context that could ultimately lead to the overcoming of history and with it to an end of history in an age when forces of homogenization are replaced by forces of differentiation. However, an important aspect that is often times overlooked when referring to Lefebvre and his thoughts about spatiality is the aspect of time. In his final years Lefebvre sought to use the notion of rhythm to combine space and time as well as the everyday and history.19 Sebastian Dorsch explores the dissolution of supposedly separated time and space by looking into Lefebvre’s concepts of appropriation through the lens of São Paulo street life. Critically Dorsch examines the definition of

research in the field: Lefebvre, Henri. Die Produktion des Raums, Annett Busch (trans.). Leipzig: Spectormag, 2018 [in print]. 16 For example: Fischer, Robert. “Mobility and Morality at the Border. A Lefebvrian SpatioTemporal Analysis in Early Twentieth-Century Ciudad Juárez and El Paso” Historical Social Research 38:3 (2013): 176–196; Hanssen, Jens. Fin de Siecle Beirut. The Making of an Ottoman Provincial Capital. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2005; Martinez, Jennifer L. “Movement Methodologies and Transforming Urban Space” In: Education and Social Change in Latin America, Motta, Sara C. and Mike Cole (eds.), 167–184. New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2013; Rau, Susanne. “Rhythmusanalyse nach Lefebvre” In: Taktungen und Rhythmen: Raumzeitliche Perspektiven interdisziplinär Sabine Schmolinsky, Diana Hitzke and Heiner Stahl (eds.), Berlin/ Boston: de Gruyter, 2018 [forthcoming)]; Rau, Susanne. “The Urbanization of the Periphery. Spatio-Temporal History of Lyon since the Eighteenth Century” Historical Social Research 38:3 (2013): 150–175. 17 This is especially true for History in Germany. There are only few works in the Englishspeaking research community, for example: Middleton, Sue. Henri Lefebvre and Education. Space, History, Theory. London: Routledge, 2014; Borden, Iain Michael. A Theorised History of Skateboarding, with Particular Reference to the Ideas of Henri Lefebvre. [dissertation thesis, 1999, unpublished]. 18 See Elden, Stuart. Understanding Henri Lefebvre. Theory and the Possible. London: Continuum, 2004, 154–157. See Lefebvre, Henri. L’irruption de Nanterre au sommet. Paris: Ed. Anthropos, 1968; Lefebvre, Henri: The Explosion. Marxism and the French Upheaval, Alfred Ehrenfeld (trans.). New York: Monthly Review Press, 1969. 19 Lefebvre, Henri. Key Writings, Stuart Elden, Elizabeth Lebas and Eleonore Kofman (eds./ trans.). London: Continuum, 2003, chapter on History, Time and Space. See Elden, Understanding Lefebvre, 192–198.

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appropriation in contrast to an idealized natural space that needs to be transformed in order to serve a group of people. For Lefebvre, appropriating is a spatiotemporal practice that opens a connection between a history of time and history of space. Also, Dorsch comments on Lefebvre’s rather exotic examples of appropriated spaces of homes that divide urban spaces into private and public areas thus revealing a Eurocentric and modernity-centric perspective using these non-urban and non-Western spaces as examples of a romanticized non-modern past. Dorsch applies the concept of appropriation to turn of the century São Paulo and argues that immigrants to São Paulo changed public spaces in an act of appropriation and consequential reappropriation or even domination depending on the perspective of the actors. During this process partly appropriated spaces were created where humans could actually revivify their own space-time in the city.

3 Applying Lefebvre: Literary Space Lefebvre’s relational concept of space became famous with the spatial turn. But whereas it is well adapted for instance in social sciences or geography, other disciplines we mentioned above, such as history, are not very familiar with Lefebvre’s theories. The same applies to literary studies. The connections with literature and other arts in Lefebvre’s works may not be as obvious as his intensive preoccupation with history, but they are undoubtedly there. Still, there are few attempts to apply Lefebvre’s understanding of space for the analysis of the production of fictional spaces until today.20 An engagement with Lefebvre could prove fruitful for two sides: The discipline could not only broaden its repertoire of conceptualizing space by adapting Lefebvre’s theory, it could also contribute to underline the “fundamental” importance of “aesthetic and cultural theory in Lefebvre’s critical

20 These references may function as an incomplete overview: Fitzgerald, William and Efrossini Spentzou (eds.). The Production of Space in Latin Literature. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2018; Schulz, Karin. “Räumliche Figuration gesellschaftlicher Praxis. Konversation und Geselligkeit bei Marcel Proust” In: Räume und Medien in der Romania / Espaces et médias dans les cultures romanes / Spaţii şi medii în culturile romanice, Sabine Krause and Heide Flagner (eds.), 125–136. Hildesheim/Zürich/New York: Olms Verlag, 2018; Bauer, Jenny. Geschlechterdiskurse um 1900. Literarische Identitätsentwürfe im Kontext deutsch-skandinavischer Raumproduktion. Bielefeld: Transcript, 2016; Engelke, Jan. Kulturpoetiken des Raumes. Die Verschränkung von Raum-, Text- und Kulturtheorie. Würzburg: Königshausen und Neumann, 2009; Davidson, Ian. Ideas of Space in Contemporary Poetry. New York: Palgrave, 2007.

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theory”.21 Finally, the interdisciplinary exchange between literary and cultural studies and geography might establish “a new discourse […] whose sum is greater than its parts”.22 It becomes obvious that applying Lefebvre for literary studies can have different meanings. In this book, it is particularly discussed how the spatial triad can be used as a tool for analyzing fictional works. Tiziana Urbano examines the problematization of housing projects in the GDR in the early 1980s in fiction – both in narratives and their screen adaptions. Less than treating them as sign systems, the author focuses on their significance as historical sources that can provide insight into a certain era’s culture and mentalities. Urbano uses Lefebvre’s spatial triads to underline the discrepancy between the architect’s functional perspective on socialist urban life (conceived space) and the restive everyday practices with which the inhabitants appropriate their neighborhood (lived space). It could appear that as a former member of Parti communiste français (PCF, French Communist Party), Lefebvre addressed his critique of totalizing spaces only to capitalist state systems. However, this assumption is not correct: “Since the 1960s Lefebvre described the post-Stalinist socialist states in the same way […]: as bureaucratic regimes of controlled consumption, oriented toward economic growth”.23 Urbano’s observation of the inhabitant’s alienation in the socialist city thus makes a contribution to the production of space in non-Western societies which seems to have been often overlooked by Lefebvre scholarship. Difference is a concept Lefebvre deals with repeatedly.24 In The Production of Space, he theorizes a differential space that is opposed to a homogenizing abstract space. Another example can be found in Lefebvre’s definition of representational spaces which encompass a clandestine element. Therefore, it suggests itself to consult his theoretical implications for the analysis of minorities. There are some approaches in Gender Studies that use Lefebvre as a theoretical background.25 For similar debates in Postcolonial Studies, see Anne Brüske’s 21 Léger, Marc James. “Henri Lefebvre and the Moment of the Aesthetic” http://legermj.typepad. com/blog/2011/12/henri-lefebvre-and-the-moment-of-the-aesthetic.html (09/07/18). 22 Fraser, Benjamin. Toward an Urban Cultural Studies. Henri Lefebvre and the Humanities. New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2015, 3. 23 Stanek, Lefebvre on Space, 64. 24 See i.e. Lefebvre, Henri. Le manifeste différentialiste. Paris: Gallimard, 1971. 25 For an overview, see Kipfer, Stefan, Parastou Saberi and Thorben Wieditz. “Henri Lefebvre: Debates and Controversies” Progress in Human Geography 37:1 (2012): 115–134, here 124 f. To name a few publications, see i.e. Bauer, Geschlechterdiskurse; Schuster, Nina. Andere Räume. Soziale Praktiken der Raumproduktion von Drag Kings und Transgender. Bielefeld: Transcript, 2010; Munroe, Jennifer. Gender and the Garden in Early Modern English Literature.

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contribution in this book. In her analysis of the Ecuadorian-American writer Ernesto Quiñonez’ novel Bodega Dreams, she uses Lefebvre’s spatial theory to examine how diasporic spaces are produced in Hispano-Carribean diaspora literature. On the basis of her readings, the author argues that fictional spaces take influence in the perception of factual spaces. As is already discussed in Sebastian Dorsch’s critique of Lefebvre’s Eurocentrism, the latter is not very nuanced in his conceptualization of difference. Therefore, Brüske combines his thinking of space with postcolonial theoretical positions that define coloniality as the underlying social structure of modernity. Within postcolonial studies, Brüske stresses the importance of an intersectional approach that considers various categories of difference. Urbano’s and Brüske’s essays demonstrate convincingly how Lefebvre’s concepts of producing space can enrich the interpretation of a fictional work. Whereas both authors are concerned with the question how it is possible to apply Lefebvre’s thoughts on space for the textual analysis, Jenny Bauer examines in a theoretical study what role literary texts play in Lefebvre’s dialectic conception of material and immaterial spaces. Therefore, she brings together different aspects of the characterization of representational spaces as presented in The Production of Space. She traces down the reflection as a fundamental principle to the human body moving in space. Subsequently, she discusses this principle of reflection by the example of the mirror, the perception of landscape and the theatrical space. The mirror is primarily discussed in comparison to Jacques Lacan’s psychoanalytic conception of the subject’s development of self-identity. Both landscape and theatrical space are seen in conjunction with questions of mediality and representation. Her observations might serve as a bridge to initiate an interdisciplinary dialogue on the meaning of representational spaces.

4 Lefebvre in Context As we mentioned in the beginning of the introduction, generally, Lefebvre is not an easy read. Subsequently, we encouraged our contributors to employ a critical perspective on Lefebvre. Thus, also problematic aspects of Lefebvre’s concepts are dealt with in the edition such as his romanticized conception of the

Burlington: Ashgate, 2008; Pérez de Mendiola, Marina. Gender and Identity Formation in Contemporary Mexican Literature. New York: Garland Publishing, 1998; Massey, Doreen. Space, Place, and Gender. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1994.

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premodern era, his focus on Western modern society or his progressive and allegedly determined vision for humanity. A common theme that connects various articles in this edition is cybernetics or how to organize the social coexistence of humans with respect to recent developments. Lefebvre discusses the loss of future as a possible consequence of the cybernatization of society, which he sees as the final consequence of structuralism’s technocratic Weltanschauung.26 Various articles in this edition point to the possibility of a humane progress overcoming present neoliberal and homogenizing tendencies by transforming societies relations for example with new digital technologies. One example of a possible outcome lies in Lefebvre’s concept of a utopian differential space where human bodies live in their rhythm. Already today these places can be found in abandoned abstract spaces where capitalists have no interest in investing. Differential space is then developing out of an abstract space and in addition to that opposed to it.27 It is guided by the presence of difference. This reconfiguration of social spaces but also asks for what basis we should reshape our society on. The answer might lie in the knowledge about the essence of human nature which Lefebvre points to for example in his concept of rhythmanalysis.28 These contradictions between spaces can arise through distortions in historical time. Several articles take a historical perspective and look at change over time analyzing different uses of space for example through processes of reappropriation. Another common theme here is a critique of the modern industrialized everyday life that inhibits individual development. One way to transform society can be seen in the idea of humans as non-workers but people that are occupied with creative forms of ‘work’ and are able to produce their lives as an oeuvre. Furthermore, Lefebvre thought of art as an aspect of representational spaces and connected its forms with emotional interpretation of social space. Consequently, various articles in this edition open up a literary space and connect an imaginary space of literature with realities of authors and performance.

26 See Lefebvre, Henri. Metaphilosophie. Prolegomena, Burkhart Kroeber (trans.). Frankfurt a.M.: Suhrkamp, 1975 [1965], 196. 27 Lefebvre, The Production of Space, 52. 28 See Lefebvre, Henri. Éléments de rythmanalyse. Introduction à la connaissance des rythmes. Paris: Éditions Syllepse, 1992. See also Schmolinsky, Sabine, Diana Hitzke and Heiner Stahl (eds.). Taktungen und Rhythmen. Raumzeitliche Perspektiven interdisziplinär. Berlin/Boston: de Gruyter, 2018 [forthcoming].

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References Altenburg, Jan Philipp. Machtraum Großstadt. Zur Aneignung und Kontrolle des Stadtraums in Frankfurt am Main und Philadelphia in den 1920er Jahren. Köln: Böhlau, 2013. Aronowitz, Stanley. “The Ignored Philosopher and Social Theorist: The Work of Henri Lefebvre” Situations 2:1 (2007): 133–155. Bauer, Jenny. Geschlechterdiskurse um 1900. Literarische Identitätsentwürfe im Kontext deutsch-skandinavischer Raumproduktion. Bielefed: Transcript, 2016. Borden, Iain Michael. A Theorised History of Skateboarding, with Particular Reference to the Ideas of Henri Lefebvre. [dissertation thesis, 1999, unpublished]. Davidson, Ian. Ideas of Space in Contemporary Poetry. New York: Palgrave, 2007. Dorsch, Sebastian. “Urban Phenomena in São Paulo’s Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries: Appropriating Local Spatio-Temporalities” Tempo Social Revista da Sociologica da USP (2019) [forthcoming]. Elden, Stuart. Understanding Henri Lefebvre. Theory and the Possible. London: Continuum, 2004. Engelke, Jan. Kulturpoetiken des Raumes. Die Verschränkung von Raum-, Text- und Kulturtheorie. Würzburg: Königshausen und Neumann, 2009. Enzensberger, Hans Magnus. “Constituents of a Theory of the Media” In: The New Media Reader, NoahWardrip-Fruin and NickMontfort (eds.), 259–276. Cambridge (Mass.): The MIT Press, 2003. Enzensberger, Hans Magnus. “Baukasten zu einer Theorie der Medien” In: Texte zur Medientheorie, Günter Helmes and Werner Köster (eds.), 254–275. Stuttgart: Reclam, 2002 [1970]. Erfurter RaumZeit-Forschung (ERZ): “Workshop ‘Raum anders denken. Die Begriffe der Raumtrias, des Residualen und der Heterotopie bei Henri Lefebvre’, 8. Mai 2015”. https:// www.uni-erfurt.de/fileadmin/public-docs/RaumZeitForschung/Workshops/Lefebvre_ Workshop_Raum_anders_denken.pdf (21/07/18). Erfurter RaumZeit-Forschung (ERZ): “Workshop ‘Everyday Poiesis – zur Platzierung des Politischen bei Lefebvre’, 3. Workshop zu Henri Lefebvre, 19./20. Mai 2017, Basel”. https://www.uni-erfurt.de/fileadmin/public-docs/RaumZeitForschung/Workshops/ Einladung_Lefebvre_Workshop_Everyday_poeisis.pdf (21/07/18). Fahrenbach, Helmut. “Henri Lefebvres ‘Metaphilosophie’ der Praxis” In: Grundlinien und Perspektiven einer Philosophie der Praxis, Michael Grauer and Wolfdietrich SchmiedKowarzik (eds.), 80–108. Kassel: IAG Philosophie, 1982. Fischer, Robert. Sex im Grenzbereich – Sexualität, Devianz und Regulierung in den USamerikanischen Grenzstädten Ciudad Juárez und El Paso, 1880–1950 [dissertation thesis, 2016, unpublished]. Fischer, Robert. “Mobility and Morality at the Border. A Lefebvrian Spatio-Temporal Analysis in Early Twentieth-Century Ciudad Juárez and El Paso” Historical Social Research 38:3 (2013): 176–196. Fitzgerald, William and Efrossini Spentzou (eds.). The Production of Space in Latin Literature. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2018. Fraser, Benjamin. Toward an Urban Cultural Studies. Henri Lefebvre and the Humanities. New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2015. Hanssen, Jens. Fin de Siecle Beirut. The Making of an Ottoman Provincial Capital. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2005. Huchzermeyer, Marie: “Reading Lefebvre from the ‘Global South’. The Legal Dimension of his Rights to the City”, UHURU Seminar Series, Rhodes University, May 2015.

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https://www.ru.ac.za/media/rhodesuniversity/content/uhuru/documents/Marie%20 Huchzermeyer%20Reading%20Henri%20Lefebvre%20from%20the%20global%20 south-UHURU%20Seminars%2020%20May%202015.pdf (20/07/18). Kipfer, Stefan, Parastou Saberi and Thorben Wieditz. “Henri Lefebvre: Debates and Controversies” Progress in Human Geography 37:1 (2012): 115–134. Klopfer, Nadine. Die Ordnung der Stadt. Die Ordnung der Stadt – Raum und Gesellschaft in Montreal (1880–1930). Köln: Böhlau, 2010. Lefebvre, Henri. Die Produktion des Raums, Annett Busch (trans.). Leipzig: Spectormag, 2018 [in print]. Lefebvre, Henri. Key Writings, Stuart Elden, Elizabeth Lebas and Eleonore Kofman (eds./trans.). London: Continuum, 2003. Lefebvre, Henri. Éléments de rythmanalyse. Introduction à la connaissance des rythmes. Paris: Éditions Syllepse, 1992. Lefebvre, Henri. The Production of Space. Oxford: Blackwell, 1991 [1974]. Lefebvre, Henri. Metaphilosophie. Prolegomena, Burkhart Kroeber (trans.). Frankfurt a.M.: Suhrkamp, 1975 [1965]. Lefebvre, Henri. Le manifeste différentialiste. Paris: Gallimard, 1971. Lefebvre, Henri: The Explosion. Marxism and the French Upheaval, Alfred Ehrenfeld (trans.). New York: Monthly Review Press, 1969. Lefebvre, Henri. L’irruption de Nanterre au sommet. Paris: Ed. Anthropos, 1968. Léger, Marc James. “Henri Lefebvre and the Moment of the Aesthetic”. http://legermj.typepad. com/blog/2011/12/henri-lefebvre-and-the-moment-of-the-aesthetic.html (09/07/18). Martinez, Jennifer L. “Movement Methodologies and Transforming Urban Space” In: Education and Social Change in Latin America, Motta, Sara C. and Mike Cole (eds.), 167–184. New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2013. Massey, Doreen. Space, Place, and Gender. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1994. Meyer, Philipp. “Review of Workshop: Lefebvre lesen. Plurale Zugänge zu einem vernachlässigten Raumdenker des 20. Jahrhunderts”. H-Soz-u-Kult, H-Net Reviews. October, 2014. http://www.h-net.org/reviews/showrev.php?id=42565 (21/07/18). Middleton, Sue. Henri Lefebvre and Education. Space, History, Theory. London: Routledge, 2014. Müller-Schöll, Ulrich. Das System und der Rest. Kritische Theorie in der Perspektive Henri Lefebvres. Mössingen-Talheim: Talheimer, 1999. Munroe, Jennifer. Gender and the Garden in Early Modern English Literature. Burlington: Ashgate, 2008. Pérezde Mendiola, Marina. Gender and Identity Formation in Contemporary Mexican Literature. New York: Garland Publishing, 1998. Rau, Susanne. “Rhythmusanalyse nach Lefebvre” In: Taktungen und Rhythmen: Raumzeitliche Perspektiven interdisziplinär, Sabine Schmolinsky, Diana Hitzke and Heiner Stahl (eds.). Berlin/Boston: de Gruyter, 2018 [forthcoming)]. Rau, Susanne. Räume der Stadt – Eine Geschichte Lyons, 1300–1800. Frankfurt a. M.: Campus, 2014. Rau, Susanne. “The Urbanization of the Periphery. Spatio-Temporal History of Lyon since the Eighteenth Century” Historical Social Research 38:3 (2013): 150–175. Schmid, Christian. Stadt, Raum und Gesellschaft. Henri Lefebvre und die Theorie der Produktion des Raumes. München: Franz Steiner Verlag, 2005.

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Schmolinsky, Sabine, Diana Hitzke and Heiner Stahl (eds.). Taktungen und Rhythmen. Raumzeitliche Perspektiven interdisziplinär. Berlin/Boston: de Gruyter, 2018 [forthcoming]. Schulz, Karin. “Räumliche Figuration gesellschaftlicher Praxis. Konversation und Geselligkeit bei Marcel Proust” In: Räume und Medien in der Romania/Espaces et médias dans les cultures romanes/Spaţii şi medii în culturile romanice, Sabine Krause and Heide Flagner (eds.), 125–136. Hildesheim/Zürich/New York: Olms Verlag, 2018. Schuster, Nina. Andere Räume. Soziale Praktiken der Raumproduktion von Drag Kings und Transgender. Bielefeld: Transcript, 2010. Schwab, Jens Peter. ‘L’Homme Total’. Die Entfremdungsproblematik im Werk von Henri Lefebvre. Frankfurt a.M.: Peter Lang, 1983. Soja, Edward W. Postmodern Geographies. The Reassertion of Space in Critical Social Theory. London/New York: Routledge, 1989. Stanek, Łukasz. “Methodologies and Situations of Urban Research. Re-reading Henri Lefebvre’s ‘The Production of Space’” Zeithistorische Forschungen/Studies in Contemporary History 4:3 (2007), 461–465. Stanek, Łukasz. Henri Lefebvre on Space. Architecture, Urban Research, and the Production of Theory. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2011.

I. Theorizing Lefebvre

Stephan Günzel

Poetik des Raums – Bachelard und Lefebvre Abstract: The contribution discusses the basic principles of spatial poeticity in regard to two of the most influential thinkers of space in the 20th century: Gaston Bachelard (1884–1962) and Henri Lefebvre (1901–1991). Their relevance of their writings for the topic of space is due to the fact that they do not conceive it as a physical, stable entity, but as a dynamic result of various factors. While Bachelard is adopted especially within literary studies, Lefebvre is read mostly within Architecture, Geography, Philosophy and Sociology. Nevertheless, both French authors within the span of 16 years only published a monograph on finally the same topic: As already the titles of Bachelard’s La poétique de l’éspace from 1957 as well as Lefebvre’s La production de l’espace from 1974 tell, they both treat the creation of space (since the Greek poiein means the same as the Latin producere). An attempt to overcome the desideratum of using both approaches for the studies of spatiality is suggested by first of all comparing Lefebvre’s dialectical model of space with Bachelard’s account of implicit notions of spatial forms in philosophical texts, before defining the basic similarity of their approaches in a topological notion of space.

Einleitung Dieser Beitrag stellt die Grundlage räumlicher Poetizität anhand eines Vergleich der zwei wichtigsten Raumtheoretiker des 20. Jahrhunderts dar, in deren Werk Raum nicht bloß als physisch unveränderliche Gegebenheit, sondern als Hervorbringung durch unterschiedliche Faktoren verstanden wird: Gaston Bachelard und Henri Lefebvre. Während Bachelard in der Literaturwissenschaft und darüber hinaus hinsichtlich seines raumpoetischen Beitrags hinreichend rezipiert worden ist, wird Lefebvre bislang zumeist nur in der Architektur, der Geographie, der Philosophie und der Soziologie zur Kenntnis genommen. Dabei haben die beiden französischen Autoren im Abstand von etwas mehr als 15 Jahren jeweils eine Monographie zum letztlich selben Thema veröffentlicht: Sowohl Bachelards La poétique de l’éspace von 1957 wie auch Lefebvres La production de l’espace von 1974 behandeln die künstlerische und kulturelle Erzeugung von Raum – eingedenk der Tatsache, dass poiein im Griechischen letztlich das gleiche heißt wie producere im Lateinischen: ‚machen‘ bzw. ‚hervorbringen‘. https://doi.org/10.1515/9783110494983-002

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Freilich sind und bleiben die Konnotationen andere: ‚Poetik‘ verweist auf Literatur und ‚Produktion‘ auf Industrie. Und so waren die beiden Untersuchungen zunächst auch angelegt: Bachelard betrachtete die Erzeugung von Raum in erster Linie durch die seit Gotthold E. Lessing als vermeintlich bloß zeitlich organisierte Form des Textes und Lefebvre im Anschluss an Karl Marx die Erzeugung von Raum in erster Linie durch materielle und immaterielle Gesellschaftsverhältnisse. Und doch betonen beide jeweils im Gegenzug die Relevanz wissenschaftlichen Denkens für Literatur – so bei Bachelard die ebenfalls poetische Erzeugungskraft physikalischer Raumvorstellungen – bzw. die Kraft der Literatur für gesellschaftliche Veränderung – bei Lefebvre die Poetik als Antrieb der Kritik bestehender Produktionsbedingungen. So gesehen, sind beide Ansätze auf ihre je eigene Weise ‚kritisch‘: Bachelard kritisierte als Epistemologe die poetische ‚Blindheit‘ der Naturwissenschaften und der Philosophie, Lefebvre kritisiert als revolutionärer Denker soziale Verhältnisse. An dieser Stelle werden auch die großen Unterschiede deutlich, die es trotz der Nähe zwischen ihnen gibt: Während Bachelard das dialektische Interpretationsschema des Hegelianismus hinter sich lassen möchte, universalisiert es Lefebvre in marxistischer Tradition. Jedoch ist mit einer ‚Dialektik des Raumes‘ bei beiden nicht das Gleiche gemeint: Für Bachelard ist die Raumdialektik des philosophischen Denkens oder der kartesischen Metaphysik zwischen den Polen des ‚Drinnen‘ und ‚Draußen‘ gefangen, während Lefebvre meint, dass zwischen Praxis und Theorie des Raums eine Dialektik besteht, insofern beide gegenseitig aufeinander wirken. Somit ist Dialektik bei Bachelard ein Gegenstand der Kritik, während es bei Lefebvre ein Mittel der Beschreibung ist.

1 Henri Lefebvre: Raumproduktion Bachelards Poetologie wurde nicht nur umfassender, sondern seit ihrem Erscheinen auch kontinuierlich rezipiert – und sei es auch negativ, wie etwa durch Michel Foucault, der seine Theorie der ‚Anderen Räume‘ ausdrücklich gegen die der bloß ‚psychischen‘ Raumerzeugung Bachelards stellt.1 Dagegen war Lefebvres Theorie der Raumhervorbringung zunächst in Vergessenheit geraten: Dies änderte sich schlagartig im Zuge das sogenannten Spatial Turn, das heißt der Hinwendung von Kultur- und Sozialwissenschaften zum Raum. Die Namensgebung dieser Raumkehre erfolgte 1989 durch den US-amerikanischen Sozialgeographen 1 Vgl. Foucault, Michel. „Von anderen Räumen“ In: Schriften in vier Bänden. Bd. IV, Daniel Defert und François Ewald (Hrsg.), Michael Bischoff, Hans-Dieter Gondek, Hermann Kocyba und Jürgen Schröder (Übers.), 931–942. Frankfurt a.M.: Suhrkamp, 2005, 934.

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Edward Soja in seinem Buch Postmodern Geographies, das im Untertitel die „Wiederbehauptung des Raums in der kritischen Sozialtheorie“ verkündet. Ein Kapitel darin ist überschrieben mit „Uncovering Western Marxism’s Spatial Turn“2 und schreibt das Verdienst der Wiederentdeckung der Raumkategorie Lefebvre zu. Der bis zu Soja in der Raumdebatte weitgehend vergessene Stadtsoziologe Lefebvre gehörte zu den publikationsstärksten Wissenschaftsautoren des 20. Jahrhunderts, der annähernd ein Buch pro Jahr veröffentlichte. Der Grund für die geringe Beachtung von Die Produktion des Raums bei Erscheinen hatte – neben seinem hohen Ausstoß an Monographien – verschiedene Gründe: Einer ist, dass espace noch primär mit dem ‚outer space‘ verbunden war und eine ‚Produktion des Weltraums‘ in den 1970er Jahren als ein merkwürdiges Thema erscheinen musste. Ein anderer Grund ist das auch in der französischen Soziologie gültige Stigma Max Horkheimers und Theodor W. Adornos, wonach „[d]er Raum […] die absolute Entfremdung ist“.3 Die Aussage war freilich der ‚völkischen‘ Aufladung des Raumbegriffs in der Nazizeit geschuldet. Auch wenn Lefebvre die Diagnose der Entfremdung teilt, so hat er nicht den Naturraum vor Augen, sondern den Stadtraum, der ihm zufolge gesellschaftlich hervorgebracht wird und sich durch die Geschichte hindurch verändert. Wichtigen Einfluss auf Lefebvres Raumverständnis hat die 1957 gegründete Bewegung ‚Situationistische Internationale‘ um Guy Debord, welche mit dem Ansinnen einer ‚Psychogeographie‘ die Architektur der Städte als Resultate von Ideologien begreift, die durch ihre Materialisierung wiederum auf das Verhalten der Menschen wirken. Neben Unternehmungen zur Kartierung mentaler Karten versuchten die Bewegung, gegebene Strukturen durch eine veränderte Performanz zu kritisieren, die sie durch ein nicht zielgerichtetes ‚Umherschweifen‘ (frz. dérive) erzielen wollen, um der kapitalistischen Stadt einen anderen Raum entgegenzusetzen. Das bislang nur in Form des Vorworts auf Deutsch veröffentlichte Raumbuch Lefebvres wird in seinem Todesjahr 1991 ins Englische übersetzt. Erst als The Production of Space avancierte es dann zu einer ‚Bibel‘ der neueren Raumtheorie. Maßgeblich hat daran wiederum Soja Anteil, da er fünf Jahre darauf in seinem neuen Buch Thirdspace eine detaillierte Deutung von Lefebvres Raumtheorie vorlegt.4 Mittlerweile ist die Formulierung des ‚Spatial Turn‘ in aller Munde.

2 Soja, Edward W. Postmodern Geographies. The Reassertion of Space in Critical Social Theory. London/New York: Routledge, 1989, 39. 3 Horkheimer, Max und Theodor W. Adorno. Dialektik der Aufklärung. Philosophische Fragmente. Frankfurt a.M: Fischer, 1988, 189. 4 Vgl. Soja, Edward W. „Die Trialektik der Räumlichkeit“ In: TopoGraphien der Moderne. Medien zur Repräsentation und Konstruktion von Räumen, Robert Stockhammer Robert Stockhammer (Hrsg./Übers.), 93–123, München: Fink, 2005.

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Gleichwohl ist Sojas Interpretation umstritten. Das kann auf die teils problematische Übersetzung von Lefebvres Text zurückgeführt werden, aber auch Unachtsamkeiten Sojas sind zu benennen: So charakterisiert er Lefebvres Theorie als ‚Trialektik‘ – insinuierend, dass ‚Dialektik‘ sich auf zwei Momente (wie in der Antinomie) allein bezieht, nicht aber wörtlich den ‚Durchgang‘ (gr. ‚dia‘) durch das Denken, die Sprache oder den Geist (gr. logos) meint. Zudem wird Lefebvre zu einem Denker des im Buchtitel so bezeichneten Drittraums gemacht: ‚Thirdspace‘ ist eine Wortschöpfung des postkolonialen Theoretikers Homi Bhabha, die im Blick auf die Bücherverbrennungen 1989 durch indische Muslime im englischen Bradford erfolgt. Auslöser für die Unruhen ist die Ausrufung eines Kopfgelds auf den Schriftstellers Salman Rushdie, dessen im gleich Jahr erschienene The Satanic Verses schon dem Titel nach eine Provokation darstellen, da der Autor sich auf getilgte Passagen im Koran bezieht: In diesen gestattet der Prophet die Anbetung dreier Göttinnen (was weder mit dem Geschlechtervorstellung noch dem Monotheismus des Islam vereinbar sei). Da beide Protagonisten von Rushdies Roman indische Muslime sind, die im heutigen England als Gottheit und Teufel agieren, werden zunächst Protest aus Indien laut. (Sowohl der Muslim Rushdie wie auch der Parse Bhabha sind dort aufgewachsen und haben in Großbritannien studiert.) – In dem Interview stellt Bhabha die ‚Hybridität‘ der kulturellen Situation heraus, aufgrund derer es nicht möglich sei „to trace two original moments from which the third emerges, rather hybridity to me is the ‚third space‘ which enables other positions to emerge. This third space displaces the histories that constitute it, and set up new structures of authority, new political initiatives, which are inadequately understood through received wisdom.“5 In den Protesten der Muslime in England treten sich so zwar unterschiedliche Positionen gegenüber. Diesen Konflikt jedoch auf die Traditionen von Islam und Christentum zurückzuführen ist nach Bhabha verfehlt: Die postkoloniale Situation zeichnet sich vielmehr dadurch aus, dass beiden bereits miteinander verweltlicht sind, also das Aufeinanderprallen innerhalb einer globalisierten Welt geschieht. Dies ist insofern eine ‚Anmaßung‘ (gr. hybris), als authentische Traditionen nicht mehr auszumachen sind. Die eigentliche Provokation Rushdies liegt so gesehen auch nicht in den vordergründigen Anspielungen auf den Islam, sondern in der Hybridität der postmodernistischen Erzählweise, welche die kulturelle Situation der Gegenwart spiegelt. Soja übernimmt das Wort von Bhabha, will ‚Drittraum‘ aber mit Lefebvre eine Bedeutung für die Sozialanalyse geben, insofern Raum in drei dialektischen Momente

5 Bhabha, Homi. „The Third Space“ In: Identity. Community, Culture, Difference, Jonathan Rutherford (Hrsg.), 207–221. London: Lawrence and Wishart, 1990, 211.

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auftreten kann. Soja nennt sie ‚Erst-‘, ‚Zweit-‘ und ‚Drittraum‘, die im Zusammenspiel eine ‚VerAnderung‘ (engl. othering) des Raums bewirkten. Lefebvre selbst unterscheidet zwischen ‚Raumpraxis‘ (frz. pratique spatiale), ‚Raumrepräsentationen‘ (frz. représentations de l’espace) und ‚Repräsentationsräumen‘, wörtlich: ‚Räumen der Repräsentation‘ (frz. espaces de représentation). Ihrer Modalität nach unterscheidet sie sich als ‚perzipierter Raum‘ (frz. espace perçu), als ‚konzipierter Raum‘ (frz. espace conçu) und – mit einem Begriff des Psychopathologen Eugène Minkowskis (1972)6 – als ‚gelebter Raum‘ (frz. espace vécu). Die beiden Triaden Lefebvres lassen sich einmal als semiotische und einmal als phänomenologische Einteilung beschreiben, so dass die gleiche Konstellation einmal über die Referenz oder Repräsentation, das andere Mal über die Erscheinungs- oder Wahrnehmungsweise thematisiert wird. Beide Einteilungen haben Verwirrungspotential, das Lefebvre durchaus bewusst anlegt: So ist in der ersten Trias eine Verwechslung von Raumrepräsentation und Repräsentationsräumen gegeben sowie in der zweiten die Zuordnung der gelebten Weise zur letzteren und nicht zur Raumpraxis, die nach Lefebvre ‚perzipiert‘ oder ‚empfunden‘ wird. Die sich ergebenden Verwechselungen können als Motor der Dialektik angesehen werden, so dass Lefebvre hier zwar eine ‚zergliedernde‘ Analyse des Raums durch die betreffenden Kategorien vorstellt, aber zugleich unterstreicht, dass sie nur in der dialektischen Synthese anzutreffen sind. Es gibt keinen der drei Räume für sich, gleichwohl sie sich unterscheiden lassen: a) Die räumliche Praxis: Sie umfasst die Produktion und Reproduktion, spezielle Orte und Gesamträume, die jeder sozialen Formation eigen sind, und sichert die Kontinuität in einem relativen Zusammenhalt. Dieser Zusammenhalt impliziert in Bezug auf den sozialen Raum und den Bezug jedes Mitglieds dieser Gesellschaft zu seinem Raum sowohl eine gewisse Kompetenz als auch eine bestimmte Performanz. b) Die Raumrepräsentationen: Sie sind mit den Produktionsverhältnissen verbunden, mit der ‚Ordnung‘, die sie durchsetzen, und folglich auch mit Kenntnissen, Zeichen, Codes und ‚frontalen‘ Beziehungen. c) Die Repräsentationsräume: Sie weisen (ob kodiert oder nicht) komplexe Symbolisierungen auf, sind mit der verborgenen und unterirdischen Seite des sozialen Lebens, aber auch mit der Kunst verbunden, die man möglicherweise nicht als Raumcode, sondern als Code der Repräsentationsräume auffassen kann.7

6 Vgl. Minkowski, Eugène. „Ansätze zu einer Psychopathologie des gelebten Raumes“ In: Ders. Die gelebte Zeit. Bd. II: Über den zeitlichen Aspekt psychopathologischer Phänomene, 232–267. Salzburg: Müller, 1972. 7 Lefebvre, Henri. „Die Produktion des Raums“ In: Raumtheorie. Grundlagentexte aus Philosophie und Kulturwissenschaften, Jörg Dünne und Stephan Günzel (Hrsg.), Jörg Dünne (Übers.), 330–342. Frankfurt a.M: Suhrkamp, 2006, 333.

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Der Erstraum ist damit eine subjektive Sichtweise des Raums, der Zweitraum eine objektive und der Drittraum eine kollektive. Alle drei bestehen zugleich: So erfolgt in der alltäglichen Praxis ein individuelles Erleben von Raum, während in wissenschaftlichen Untersuchungen von Raum, dieser konzipiert und als kultureller Raum schließlich gesellschaftlich gelebt wird. Um ein Beispiel zu nennen, kann das analytische Werkzeug Lefebvres auf die 1937 fertiggestellte Brücke am Golden Gate bei San Francisco angewendet werden: Als Erstraum wird sie tagtäglich von Pendlern benutzt, die sie zur Arbeit und zurück zum Wohnort überqueren. Die Fahrer besitzen die „Kompetenz“, ein Auto zu steuern, und tun dies in einer bestimmten Weise ihrer konkreten „Performanz“. Dabei erscheint der Raum aus einer individuellen (Handlungs-)Perspektive, welche sich zumeist dadurch auszeichnet, dass Raum als Wirklichkeit (die Materialität der Brücke) wahrgenommen wird. Als Zweitraum ist die Brücke ein planerisches Konstrukt des Architekten Joseph Strauss und existiert bereits als Imagination, bevor sie als Erstraum benutzt werden kann. Die zugehörigen Raumrepräsentationen sind nicht nur die Planungsskizzen mit fachspezifischen „Zeichen“, welche im Vorfeld angefertigt werden, sondern auch statische Berechnungen, oder weiteres Raumwissen zur Einschätzung der Geologie und Geographie des Planungsgebietes. Hierzu gehören ferner die notwendigen „Kenntnisse“ für den sicheren Aufenthalt unter Wasser, um die Fundamente des südlichen Brückenpfeilers zu errichten. Als Drittraum oder „komplexe Symbolisierung“ schließlich ist die Brücke repräsentativ für die kulturelle Grenzraumauffassung der Vereinigten Staaten: Diese ist laut der einschlägigen Untersuchung des Kulturhistorikers Frederick J. Turner im Unterschied zu der auf das Festschreiben eines Territoriums gerichteten ‚Kante‘ (engl. border) in Europa die ‚Front‘ (engl. frontier).8 Die Siedler verschieben diese Grenze von Osten her kommend nach Westen, bis an zum Golden Gate, wo die Brücke heute als Wahrzeichen der ‚Überschreitung‘ und des ‚Weiter‘ zu finden ist. Selbst das Raumfahrtprogramm der USA kann als eine Verschiebung der Frontier verstanden werden – zwar nicht mehr in der Horizontalen, wohl aber in der Vertikalen. Die Symbolisierungsweise der Brücke besteht dabei einer besonderen Art der Repräsentation, die – in semiotischen Kategorien gesprochen9 – nicht wie diejenige des Zweitraums ‚asymmetrisch‘ ist, das heißt, bloße Designation in Richtung des Bezeichneten ist, sondern ‚symmetrisch‘, also in 8 Vgl. Turner, Frederick J. „Die Grenze. Ihre Bedeutung in der amerikanischen Geschichte“ In: Die Grenze. Ihre Bedeutung in der amerikanischen Geschichte, Charlotte v. Cossel (Übers.). Bremen: Dorn, 1947, 11–43. 9 Vgl. Goodman, Nelson. Sprachen der Kunst. Entwurf einer Symboltheorie. Frankfurt a.M: Suhrkamp, 1998, 59 f.

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einem reziproken Verweis besteht, auch zurück auf das Bezeichnende: Während etwa die Baupläne die Brücke ‚darstellen‘ (die Brücke aber nicht die Baupläne), ist die Brücke selbst Teil der Menge aller (verschiebbaren) Fronten, die sie repräsentiert, und wird also auch durch diese bezeichnet. – Anders gesagt, ist sie ein Beispiel dieser besonderen Art von Grenze und ‚exemplifiziert‘ die besondere kulturelle Form. Nach Lefebvres Auffassung greifen alle drei Momente ineinander und produzieren Raum gleichermaßen, wobei es sich in vielen Fällen um eine Reproduktion handelt: So verändert die Frontiersymbolik der Brücke nicht die bestehende Raumauffassung, sondern perpetuiert sie. Anders sieht es mit einem der Selbstmörder aus, die auf der Brücke ihre ‚Final Frontier‘ suchen: Deren Raumpraxis bringt einen neuen „Code“ der Grenze hervor. Lefebvre selbst spricht von den (produktiv wirksamen) Repräsentationsräumen auch als ‚klandestine‘ (von lat. clandestinus, für ‚heimlich‘) Räume, durch die sich Widerstand gegen etablierte Strukturen artikuliert. So kann die im Zuge der Finanzkrise aufkommende Besetzungsbewegung Occupy – am bekanntesten ist deren Einnahme eines Parks im New Yorker Finanzdistrikt im September 2011 – als die Produktion von (Gegen-)Repräsentationsräumen inmitten der Finanztürme. In der Tat ist das Ziel der Bewegung, die zu diesem Zeitpunkt noch keine klare politische Ausrichtung hat, die Einrichtung eines machtfreien Bezirks, der Beispiel ist für eine andere, noch nicht verwirklichte Struktur. Für Lefebvre wird die revolutionäre Kraft auch an den Repräsentationsräumen der Literatur begreifbar, die beispielhaft für Alternativen zu einem bestehende Gesellschaftsgefüge stehen. Zu denken ist in erster Linie an die aus England stammende Literaturgattung der Utopie (von gr. ou-, für ‚nicht‘, und gr. topos, für Ort). Die „Ortsbestimmungen“10 sind für sie insofern konstitutiv, als sich darin kommende, noch nicht existierende Zustände ausdrücken. So ist der (Nicht-)Ort in dem genreprägenden Utopia von Thomas Morus aus dem Jahr 1516 eine entlegene Insel, auf der demokratische Bedingungen herrschen und deren Bewohner kein Privateigentum kennen. Morus’ Schilderungen sind damit die Urfassungen aller kommunistischen Utopien, die das ‚Irgendwann‘ als ‚Irgendwo‘ beschreiben. Andere Inselromane, wie Daniel Defoes Robinson Crusoe von 1719, sind dagegen antiutopistisch (oder mit Lefebvre ‚reproduktiv‘) und berichten – zumeist im kapitalistischen Geist – von der Etablierung existierenden Gesellschaftsverhältnis an einem anderen Ort. Die wohl bemerkenswerteste Utopie ist jedoch Erewhon von Samuel Butler aus dem Jahr 1872, deren Titel sich aus der Umkehrung von nowhere

10 Bloch, Ernst. „Topos Utopia“ In: Ders. Abschied von der Utopie? Vorträge, 43–64. Frankfurt a.M.: Suhrkamp, 1980, 43.

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ergibt: Der Roman berichtet nicht von einer Insel, sondern von einem Land hinter den Bergen, in dem die existierenden gesellschaftlichen Verhältnisse verkehrt sind, ohne dass sie als erstrebenswert erscheinen. Vielmehr kann der ‚heimliche Raum‘ Butlers als eine Kritik sich abzeichnender Entwicklungen angesehen werden: So werden Verbrecher in Erewhon zum Arzt geschickt, während Kranke bestraft werden. Butlers Raumbeschreibung rückt damit in die Nähe der Dystopie (von gr. dys-, für ‚un-‘) wie George Orwells Nineteen Eighty-Four von 1949, die vor dem Überwachungsstaat der Zukunft warnt. Literarische Repräsentationsräume müssen jedoch nicht im geographischen Sinn von Orten handeln, sondern können schlichtweg aus Schilderung von Zimmern bestehen. Ein Beispiel aus der französischen Literatur ist Jean-François de Bastides Roman La petite maison von 1785, worin detailliert ein Damenzimmer, das Boudoir, mit seinen Spiegel, Kerzen und Verzierungen beschrieben wird. Solche Schilderungen ‚heimlicher Zimmer‘ verschaffen Zutritt zu ansonsten aufgrund von Geschlecht oder Herkunft unzugänglichen Räumen. Eine Besonderheit der französischen Raumliteratur stellt Madeleine de Scudérys Clélie von 1654 dar, in dem die ‚Karte von Tendre‘ – dem Land der ‚zärtlichen Freundschaft‘ – beschrieben deren Wege zum Herzen einer Frau führen oder es verfehlen.

2 Gaston Bachelard: Raumpoetik In all den genannten Beispielen, vor allem aber bei de Bastide findet etwas statt, dass der französische Wissenshistoriker Gaston Bachelards 1957 in La poétique de l’espace als letztlich für alle literarischen Beschreibungen konstitutiv beschreibt: die im Titel genannte Erzeugung von Raum. Durch die Beschreibungen von Raumformen, wie die des Hauses und seiner Teilen (Keller und Dachboden oder Winkel und Ecken) über Möbel (wie Schublade, Truhe und Schrank) bis hin zu natürlichen Formen (wie dem Nest oder der Muschel), ist Literatur für Bachelard stets Raumpoetik. Das Besondere an seinem, Lefebvres Theorie der Raumproduktion gewissermaßen vorlaufendem Ansatz, ist, dass der Befund nicht nur für die Literatur gilt, sondern auch für die Naturwissenschaften und die Philosophie: Bachelard selbst nennt als Beispiel die Vorstellung vom Raum als ‚Schwamm‘, die im 18. Jahrhundert als Erklärung für die Fähigkeit der Luft zur Wasseraufnahme dient.11 11 Vgl. Bachelard, Gaston. Die Bildung des wissenschaftlichen Geistes. Beitrag zu einer Psychoanalyse der objektiven Erkenntnis, Michael Bischoff (Übers.). Frankfurt a.M.: Suhrkamp, 1987, 127 ff.

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Für die rationalistische Philosophie konstatiert Bachelard eine Dominanz der Unterscheidung von ‚(dr)innen‘ und ‚(dr)außen‘: Das paradigmatische Beispiel ist die Subjektvorstellung René Descartes’, wonach die Vernünftigkeit als ‚denkende Sache‘ (lat. res cogitans) sich unausgedehnt im Menschen befinden soll, gegenüber der materiellen, vernunftfreien Welt als ‚ausgedehnte Sache‘ (lat. res extensa). Noch Martin Heideggers für die moderne Existenzphilosophie paradigmatisches, vermeintlich antikartesianische Konzeption des Menschen in Sein und Zeit aus dem Jahr 1927 als ‚Da-sein‘ trennt nach Bachelards Beobachtung solcherart ein ‚Hier‘ (dem Da) von einem ‚Dort‘ und verortet damit den Grund des Seins im Raum, während er an anderer Stelle dafür eintritt, dass der (geometrische) Raum der Konstitution von Welt nachgeordnet ist. Bachelard kommentiert daher lapidar: „Viele Metaphysiker benötigen einen Kartographen.“12 Tatsächlich hätte er auch schreiben können „viele Metaphysiker benötigen einen Topologen“, denn die hier in Frage stehenden Aspekte sind gerade nicht solche der Topographie, die sich mit der geographischen Verteilung im Raum befasst, anstatt mit der Lages von Raum selbst. Die topologische Kritik philosophischen Schreibens geht bis auf den wohl berühmtesten Schüler des Aufklärungsphilosophen Immanuel Kant zurück, den deutschsprachigen Begründer der Kulturwissenschaft, Johann G. Herder, der die philosophische Vernunftkritik seines Lehrers selbst einer poetologischen Kritik unterzieht: In seiner 1799 veröffentlichten Metakritik zur Kritik der reinen Vernunft zeigt Herder an Kants Unterscheidung zwischen den beiden Anschauungsformen auf, dass – wie schon bei Descartes – dem an sich nicht begrenzten Raum als ‚äußere Form der Anschauung‘ ein Ort zugewiesen wird, gegenüber der Zeit als ‚innere Form der Anschauung‘). Weitergehend behauptet Kant 1781 in der von Herder kritisierten Kritik der reinen Vernunft, dass die Anschauungsformen ‚apriori‘ sind, das heißt ‚vor der Erfahrung‘ liegen, und zudem ihren Ursprung „im Gemüte“13 des Menschen haben. Nach Herder wird daran offensichtlich, dass die Metaphysik des Raums sich immer schon innerhalb der Topologie einer Erfahrungsräumlichkeit bewegt, deren sprachlicher Ausdruck die Präpositionen sind: „vor, nach, zu, in, bei, über, unter“.14 Da philosophische Beschreibungen solcherart nicht ohne die Verräumlichung auskommen, will Bachelard den „geometrischen Krebswucherungen des sprachlichen Zellgewebes in der zeitgenössischen Philosophie“15 zumindest eine andere Raumform entgegensetzen, die von ihm so bezeichnete ‚Phänomenologie des Runden‘. Bachelard beruft sich dabei auf einen Gegenspieler Heideggers, 12 Bachelard, Gaston. Die Poetik des Raumes. Frankfurt a.M.: Fischer, 1987, 212. 13 Kant, Immanuel. Kritik der reinen Vernunft. Hamburg: Meiner, 1993, 64. 14 Herder, Johann G. Metakritik zur Kritik der reinen Vernunft. Berlin: Aufbau-Verlag, 1955, 59. 15 Bachelard, Poetik des Raumes, 212.

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den Psychiater Karl Jaspers, der schreibt, dass „[j]edes Dasein […] in sich rund [scheint]“.16 Gemeint ist damit, dass die unmittelbar leibliche Wahrnehmung weder eine ausgezeichnete Richtung kennt, noch die Unterscheidung zwischen innen und außen. Doch auch wenn es gerade Belege für die Figur des runden Raums in der Literatur gibt,17 schlägt Bachelards kritische Raumpoetik an dieser Stelle in eine präskriptive Anthropologie um. Der Rückfall in das antinomische Raumdenken führt gleichwohl zu einer Konjunktur dieser von Bachelard als ‚Topophilie‘ bezeichneten Art von Phänomenologie. Diese findet sich zunächst in der angelsächsischen Humangeographie bei Yi-Fu Tuan, der damit im Unterschied zur ‚Topophobie‘ die Ortsliebe eines Menschen oder auch die Begegnung mit einer Landschaft bezeichnet.18 In der gegenwärtigen Populärphilosophie wiederum macht sich ab 1998 Peter Sloterdijk in dem dreibändigen Werk Sphären für eine ‚Anthropologie des Runden‘ stark. Als phänomenologische Begründung führt er die Situation des Ungeborenen im Uterus an: Hier bestehe keine Differenz zwischen innen und außen (oder ‚Ich‘ und ‚Anderem‘). Der Schwebezustand im Fruchtwassers bedingt nach Sloterdijk vielmehr das Gefühl des Eins-Sein und begründet das phänomenologische Primat von Nähe: „Wo die Mutter zu denken gibt, ist alles innen.“19 Im Blick auf Lefebvre steht somit fest, dass die Raumbeschreibungen der Philosophie, gleich ob sie von der rationalistischen Trennung oder der anthropologischen Vereinigung ausgehen, als Repräsentationsräume anzusehen sind, die mit Raumpraktiken und Raumrepräsentationen im dialektischen Zusammenhang stehen. Die metaphysische Teilung des Raums etwa erfolgt in einer Zeit, als sich Descartes in den Niederlanden aufhält, wo eine bis heute nachwirkende Heeresreform durchgeführt wird: Zu den entscheidenden Neuerungen gehörte die Verwendung einer Befehlssprache, mit der vom Kommandostand aus über eine Befehlskette die Anweisung für bestimmte Bewegungen oder Handlungen in das vorderste Glied gelangt. Der kartesische Dualismus von Denkund Ausdehnungssubstanz exemplifiziert diese Struktur: Der Befehlsstand entspricht dem (Selbst-)Bewusstsein, das den ausgedehnten, vernunftlosen Körper lenkt.20 Als Repräsentationsraum ist der Rationalismus somit das Produkt einer

16 Jaspers, Karl. Von der Wahrheit. München: Piper, 1947, 57. 17 Poulet, Georges. Metamorphosen des Kreises in der Dichtung. Frankfurt a.M: Suhrkamp, 1988. 18 Vgl. Tuan, Yi-Fu. „Topophilia, or Sudden Encounter with the Landscape“ Landscape 11:1 (1961): 29–32. 19 Sloterdijk, Peter. Sphären. Bd. I: Blasen. Mikrosphärologie. Frankfurt a.M.: Suhrkamp, 1998, 278. 20 Vgl. Schäffner, Wolfgang. „Operationale Topographie. Repräsentationsräume in den Niederlanden um 1600“ In: Räume des Wissens. Repräsentation, Codierung, Spur, Hans-Jörg Rheinberger, Michael Hagner und Bettina Wahrig-Schmidt (Hrsg.), 63–90. Berlin: Akademie, 1997.

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militärischen Raumpraxis, die ihrerseits in einer Raumrepräsentation gründet: Die Skizzen für den operativen Dualismus des niederländischen Heeres sind nämlich ihrerseits an die doppelte Buchführung der Renaissance angelehnt, worin Soll und Haben auf einem T-Kontenblatt in getrennten Räumen verrechnet wird. Das graphische Prinzip der beiden Spalten ist mit Lefebvre gesprochen der ‚Raumcode‘ und der Dualismus Descartes’ der ‚Code der Repräsentationsräume‘. Eingedenk dieser Komplexität der Erzeugung von Räumlichkeit unternimmt Soja den Versuch, die Gesamtheit aller (poetisch-philosophisch-politischen) Repräsentationsräume als Raum der VerAnderung zu begreifen, der im umfassen Sinne ‚Welt ‘ ist. Hierzu rekurriert er auf die Erzählung El Aleph aus dem Jahr 1949 des argentinischen Schriftstellers Jorge Luis Borges, dessen titelgebendes Objekt darin wie folgt beschrieben wird: Im Durchmesser mochte das Aleph zwei oder drei Zentimeter groß sein, aber der kosmische Raum, war darin, ohne Minderung seines Umfangs. […] Ich sah das belebte Meer, ich sah Morgen- und Abendröte, ich sah die Menschenmassen Amerikas, ich sah ein silbriges Spinnennetz im Zentrum einer schwarzen Pyramide, sah ein aufgebrochenes Labyrinth (das war London), sah unzählige ganz nahe Augen, die sich in mir wie in einem Spiegel ergründeten […]. […] [I]ch sah die Nacht und den Tag gleichzeitig, sah einen Sonnenuntergang in Querétaro, der die Farben einer Rose in Bengalen widerzustrahlen schien, sah mein Schlafzimmer und niemand darin, […] sah Pferde mit zerstrudelter Mähne auf einem Strand am Kaspischen Meer in der Morgenfrühe […].21

Nach Soja ist dieses Aleph als ‚Welt in der Nussschale‘ der literarische Repräsentationsraum aller möglichen Repräsentationsräume. Borges’ Erzählung ist damit sowohl ein Text über eine Metatheorie des Raums (genaugenommen also eine Metametaraumtheorie), als auch ein Aufweis der Grenzen von Raumtheorie: So ist ‫ א‬als Vorläufer des griechischen α und lateinischen A der erste Buchstabe des hebräischen Alphabets. Der ursprünglich selbst nur in Verbindung mit anderen Buchstaben als Anlaut aussprechbare Buchstabe ist das Äquivalent der Zahl 1 und damit Symbol des all-einen Gottes. In der mathematischen Mengenlehre wiederum steht er für die ‚Mächtigkeit‘ einer Menge, das heißt für die Eigenschaften, welche die zu ihr zugehörigen Elemente besitzen. Damit wird eine Zahlenmenge topologisch beschrieben werden, ohne jedes ihrer Elemente anzuführen. Die Menge der ‚natürlichen Zahlen‘ wird so anstelle der endlosen Aufzählung von 1, 2, 3… über den Zahlenraum beschrieben: Er beginnt mit der ersten positiven Zahl, wobei die nächste jeweils durch die Addition mit der ersten bestimmt wird. Auch die Raumform der Frontier, welche durch die Golden Gate Bridge exemplifiziert 21 Borges, Jorge Luis. „Das Aleph“ In: Ders. Werke. Bd. VI: Das Aleph. Erzählungen 1944–1952, Karl August Horst und Gisbert Haefs (Übers.), 131–148. Frankfurt a.M.: Fischer, 1992, 144.

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wird, kann solcherart als Aleph und Mächtigkeitsbestimmung dieser Menge gelesen werden. Entsprechend wäre Soja dahingehen zu korrigieren, dass es nicht ein Aleph gibt, das alle Räume umfasst (die wäre ein erneuter Rückfall in eine ausschließliche Wahrheitsbehauptung), sondern dass Aleph die Möglichkeiten der Repräsentationsräumlichkeit beschreibt. Auch wenn Räumlichkeit für Lefebvre ein Mittel ist, den sozialen Raum in seinen verschiedenen Aspekten zu analysieren, ohne diesen dabei (im Sinne von Horkheimers und Adornos Entfremdungsdiagnose) zu verdinglichen, besteht die Gefahr, gerade den erlebten Raum der räumlichen Praxis mit einem vorgefundenen, physischen Raum gleichzusetzen. Dass Raum für diese Herangehensweise keine ontologische Kategorie (des Sozialen) ist, sondern einen Mittel zur Kulturund Gesellschaftsanalyse, wird auch bei einem anderen Neomarxisten deutlich: Frederic Jameson. Zumeist wird dieser nicht mit dem Spatial Turn, sondern mit dem Cultural Turn in Verbindung gebracht. Jedoch hat dieser für ihn eine gänzlich unvermutete Bedeutung: Während heute damit innerakademisch zumeist eine Zuwendung vieler Disziplinen zu Fragen der Kultur bezeichnet wird, will Jameson auf die Wende des Kapitalismus zur Kultur aufmerksam machen. In seinem Essay Postmodernism or, The Logic of Late Capitalism von 1984 führt er entsprechend an, dass es besagtem Spätkapitalismus gelungen sei, sich in das Gewand von Kultur zu hüllen: So trinkt heute kaum mehr jemand einfach nur Kaffee, sondern nimmt Teil an – vorzugsweise – der italienischen Kultur in Form eines Espressos oder darauf aufbauender Kreationen. Doch die vermeintliche Teilhabe ist letztlich nur der Konsum einer durch den Kapitalismus vermarkteten Italienität als Fetischcharakter dieser Ware, jenseits ihres Gebrauchswerts. Für die Raumtheorie relevant an Jameson ist in erster Linie, dass er zu Zwecken der Kapitalismuskritik die Analyse eines Raums unternimmt, den er im Sinne Lefebvres als Repräsentationsraum behandelt. Es handelt sich um das ‚Bonaventure‘-Hotel der Westin-Kette in Los Angeles, welches seit seiner Erbauung zwischen 1974 und 1976 das größte Hotel der Stadt ist und auch weltweit zu den größten seiner Art zählt. Außen hat das Gebäude jedoch nichts Postmodernes an sich, sondern mutet vielmehr modern an: So entspricht die Stahl-Glas-Konstruktion auf den ersten Blick dem Credo des Hochhauspioniers Louis Sullivan: form follows function. Allerdings zeigt sich bei näherer Betrachtung die Dysfunktionalität, dass das Hotel kein Eingang zu haben scheint. Wie seine verspiegelten Fensterfronten weist es die Besucher ab; es sei denn sie betreten oder vielmehr befahren es durch die Tiefgarage, von wo aus Zugang zur Lobby besteht. Dort angekommen öffnet sich ein lichter Innenhof im Stile eines römischen Atriums; genau jene Bauweise also, die heute fast in jeder Shopping Mall anzutreffen ist. Für Jameson tritt hier der Widerspruch zur modernen Fassade auf, die den Neuanfang in der Architekturgeschichte markieren soll. Im Inneren

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dagegen wird Geschichte aufgerufen, aber eben nur als Zitat. Dennoch können sich die Besucher ‚verortet‘ fühlen, indem sie in Los Angeles Anteil an der europäischen Bautradition nehmen. Zur Spannung von Geschichtslosigkeit und inszenierter Geschichte sowie der daraus resultierenden Unübersichtlichkeit im Gebäudeinneren trägt das Element der Wendeltreppen bei, die zur Einkaufspassage des Hotels führt: Die Windungen geben an keiner Stelle den Blick frei auf die Gesamtheit des Raums. Viele Geschäfte mussten daher schließen, da die Kunden den Weg zum Laden nicht fanden. Spätestens hier wird das Gebäude für Jameson zum Repräsentationsraum: Meine Hauptthese ist, das es mit dieser neuesten Verwandlung von Räumlichkeit, das es dem postmodernen Hyperraum gelungen ist, die Fähigkeit des individuellen menschlichen Körpers zu überschreiten, sich selbst zu lokalisieren, seine unmittelbare Umgebung durch die Wahrnehmung zu strukturieren und kognitiv seine Position in einer vermeßbaren äußeren Welt durch Wahrnehmung und Erkenntnis zu bestimmen. Und so meine ich, das die beunruhigende Diskrepanz zwischen dem Körper und seiner hergestellten Umwelt […] selbst als Symbol und Analogon für ein noch größeres Dilemma stehen kann: die Unfähigkeit unseres Bewußtseins […], das große, globale, multinationale und dezentrierte Kommunikationsgeflecht zu begreifen, in dem wir als individuelle Subjekte gefangen sind.22

Das dialektische Resultat von Geschichtslosigkeit und inszenierter Geschichte ist demnach die Desorientierung.

3 Topologische Raumanalyse Dass topologisches Denken zur Analyse der Strukturen räumlicher Poetizität vor allem der Einübung einer neuen Sichtweise bedarf, legt 1969 der wohl außergewöhnlichste Logiker des 20. Jahrhunderts, George Spencer Brown, in The Laws of Form dar. Das Buch ist nicht nur die konsequenteste Kritik des räumlichen Schachteldenkens, sondern zugleich die reduzierteste Variante einer topologischen Beschreibungsweise, durch welche eine seit zweieinhalb Jahrtausenden bestehende Tradition der westlichen Philosophie reformiert werden soll: das Denken der Identität. Aufgrund der Größe dieser Aufgabe vermittelt Spencer Brown seinen Ansatz denn auch nicht rein argumentativ, sondern durch die Aufforderung „Lasse e(twa)s sein“. Damit ist wie schon in dem im gleichen Jahr

22 Jameson, Frederic. „Postmoderne. Zur Logik der Kultur im Spätkapitalismus“ In: Postmoderne. Zeichen eines kulturellen Wandels, Andreas Huyssen und Klaus R. Scherpe (Hrsg.), Hildegard Föcking und Sylvia Klötzer (Übers.), 45–102. Reinbek b. Hamburg: Rowohlt, 1986, 89.

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von den Beatles aufgenommenen Song Let It Be nicht ein ‚Aufgeben‘ gemeint, sondern ein ‚ins-Sein-Lassen‘: Lasst uns die Welt so sehen! Wie? – Topologisch. Das ‚E(twa)s‘ kennzeichnet Spencer Brown mit einem m für ‚Markierung‘ (engl. mark, von lat. margo, für ‚Grenze‘ oder ‚Rand‘). Er will damit die reine Form der Unterscheidung hervorheben, durch die eine topologische Trennung (Einschluss und Ausschluss) erfolgt. Das Identitätsdenken gründet dagegen in einer containerräumlichen Annahme, die sich bereits in Aristoteles’ Schrift Über die Seele23 findet, wenn dieser behauptet, dass nicht „zwei Körper zugleich in demselben [Orte] sein“ können. Daraus ergibt sich für die Logik, dass beispielsweise ein Apfel keine Birne sein kann: A ≠ B. Innerhalb des physischen Ortskonzepts erscheint dieser Gedanke denn auch plausibel, jedoch nicht für den der Raumpraxis. Daher betont Spencer Brown am Akt der vermeintlichen Identifizierung die dabei erfolgende Grenzziehung, durch die ein ‚markierter Raum‘ (engl. marked space) von einem ‚unmarkierten Raum‘ (engl. unmarked space) getrennt wird.24 Ein Identifizieren von Etwas definiert daher zugleich sein Gegenteil (als es Selbst). ‚Nicht-A‘ kann somit gar nicht anders bestimmt werden als durch ‚A‘, weil die Menge ‚B‘ alles das ist, was ‚A‘ nicht ist. So lässt Spencer Brown die Markierung m sowohl das Innen wie das Außen einer Unterscheidung bezeichnen. Aristoteles Ortsvorstellung wird hiermit nicht gänzlich obsolet, wohl aber wird Topos wird nicht mehr über seinen Inhalt begriffen, sondern ausgehend von seiner reinen Form: von seinen Grenzen. Darüber wird Spencer Browns Vorschlag zu einem Kalkül, mittels dessen die von ethnologischen Beschreibungen ritueller Ein- oder Ausgrenzungshandlungen implizierte Räumlichkeit strukturell fassbar ist. Um für den radikalen Konstruktivismus Spencer Browns ein Beispiel zu nennen, kann auf die feministische Theorie verwiesen werden, in der davon ausgegangen wird, dass durch (sprachliche) Unterscheidungen Gewalt ausgeübt und Sexualität ‚performt‘ wird: Dies geschieht, wenn das biologische Geschlecht (engl. sex) einer Person durch wiederholte Erwähnung des sozialen Geschlechtes (engl. gender) zu einem Distinktionsmerkmal wird.25 In diesem Fall wird die Wirklichkeit der Geschlechter als eine beidseitige Markierung diskursiv erzeugt, von denen zwar jeweils immer nur eine Seite beobachtet wird, aber deren unmarkierter Raum (das andere Geschlecht) in der Unterscheidung mit erzeugt ist. Daher ist der aktuelle, aus Skandinavien kommende Vorstoß, über 23 Aristoteles. Über die Seele, 418b. 24 Vgl. Spencer Brown, George. Laws of Form. Gesetze der Form, Thomas Wolf (Übers.). Lübeck: Bohmeier, 1997, 63. 25 Vgl. Rubin, Gayle: „The Traffic in Women. Notes on the ‚Political Economy‘ of Sex“ In: Toward an Anthropology of Women, Rayna R. Reiter (Hrsg.), 157–210. New York/London: Monthly Review Press, 1975.

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die Einführung von Unisextoiletten die Abschaffung der an den Raumschleusen zumeist piktographisch manifestierten Differenz zu bewirken, nicht hoch genug zu bewerten: So hat schon der ebenfalls topologisch arbeitende Psychoanalytiker Jacques Lacan schon 1957 angemerkt, dass „zwei […] Türen […] den Imperativ symbolisieren […], der […] [des Menschen] öffentliches Leben den Gesetzen der urinalen Segregation unterwirft“.26 Für die kritische Sozialgeographie hat Doreen Massey seit ihrer Untersuchung über Spatial Division of Labour von 1984 wiederholt auf die dem (post)industriellen Kapitalismus eigene Geschlechterdifferenzierung hingewiesen: Eine Spaltung drückt sich hier insofern räumlich aus, als die topographische Trennung von Wohn- und Arbeitswelt durch die Topologie des Kapitals bedingt ist: Dies betrifft sowohl die Teilung der Arbeitswelt in Männer- und Frauenberufe als auch die generelle Unterscheidung von Lohnarbeit (für Männer) und unbezahlter Hausarbeit (für Frauen). Die gemeinhin erhobene Klage über den zusehenden Wegfall einer deutlichen Grenzziehung zwischen dem Raum der Arbeit (im Büro) und dem der Freizeit (zu Hause), ist für Massey denn auch nur die Perspektive der Männer, für welche der Unterschied ökonomisch tatsächlich besteht, während Frauen seit jeher zu Hause arbeiten würden.27 Mit einer topologischen Analyse gesellschaftlicher Verhältnisse am weitesten gegangen ist jedoch der Soziologe Pierre Bourdieu, der 1979 in seinem Hauptwerk über Die feinen Unterschiede – im Original schlicht La Distinction betitelt – eine Kartierung der französischen Gesellschaft unternimmt. Bourdieu, der seine Ergebnisse stets auch durch Diagramme verdeutlicht,28 löste damit einen regelrechten Skandal aus, da er die scheinbar wohlbegründete politische Spaltung in ‚links‘ und ‚rechts‘ zwar auch am Niveau des ökonomischen und kulturellen Kapitels (‚Geld‘ bzw. ‚Bildung‘) festmachte, die stabile Korrelation mit dem Wahlverhalten aber an geschmacklicher Orientierung (wie Getränkevorlieben und Freizeitverhalten): Gleich wie nahe sich die einzelnen Menschen topographisch auch sein mögen, zwischen den Nachbarn, die reiten und Champagner trinken und denen, die Fußball spielen und Bier trinken, ist die Distanz im Sozialraum nach Bourdieu schier unüberbrückbar.

26 Lacan, Jacques. „Das Drängen des Buchstaben im Unbewussten oder die Vernunft seit Freud (1957)“ In: Ders. Schriften II, Norbert Haas (Hrsg.), Norbert Haas, Hans-Joachim Metzger, Monika Metzger und Peter Stehlin (Übers.), 15–55. Weinheim/Berlin: Quadriga 1991, 24 f. 27 Vgl. Massey, Doreen. „Space, Place and Gender“ In: Dies. Space, Place, and Gender, 185–190. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1994. 28 Vgl. Bourdieu, Pierre. „Sozialer Raum, Symbolischer Raum“ In: Raumtheorie. Grundlagentexte aus Philosophie und Kulturwissenschaften, Jörg Dünne und Stephan Günzel (Hrsg.), 354–368. Frankfurt a.M.: Suhrkamp, 2006, 357.

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Im Nachgang zu Juri Lotmans topologischer Textanalyse hat Bourdieus Diagrammatik zuletzt Einzug in die Literaturwissenschaften gehalten: Namentlich verfolgt Franco Moretti ein Kartierungsprojekt des europäischen Romans, im Zuge dessen er zunächst auf verschiedenen Ebenen die Topographien der Literatur erfasst, sodann aber auch deren Topologien.29 Zu erstem gehören zunächst die Orte der Verlage und Autoren, dann vor allem die Geographie der Handlungsorte; zu zweitem gehören die sozialen Relationen und Mengen oder Gruppen(übertritte), die in den Erzählungen verhandelt werden. Topographisch wird hierüber deutlich, dass bestimmte Orte – wie die London und Paris als Wohnstätten der meisten Autoren – recht häufig repräsentiert werden, während sich topologisch die These Lotmans bestätigt, dass ein Roman erst dann ‚sujethaltig‘ ist, wenn darin ein Übertritt im sozialen Raum (etwa von ‚arm‘ nach ‚reich‘) erfolgt.30 Wie Spencer Brown begreifen genannte Autoren die beiden Seiten einer Unterscheidung als Momente derselben Markierung: ‚männlich/weiblich‘, ‚rechts/links‘, ‚arm/reich‘ sind allesamt Unterscheidungen die sich in ihrer Beidseitigkeit stabilisieren. Ein solches Denken hat seine Wurzeln in der östlichen Antike und findet sich etwa in den hinduistischen Upanischaden,31 die von der westlichen Philosophie jedoch erst im 19. Jahrhundert rezipiert werden und dann auch auf deren Logik Einfluss auszuüben beginnen. Rückblickend wird so auch erkannt, dass bereits Platons im Dialog Timaios 32 vorgebrachtes Raumkonzept der chora, das als Zwischen von ‚Sein‘ und ‚Werden‘ definiert ist, eine Distinktionsvorstellung ist. Entsprechend hat sich die Dekonstruktion mit Jacques Derrida dafür eingesetzt, das Wort nicht mit ‚Raum‘ zu übertragen, sondern es unübersetzt zu lassen.33 – Derrida hätte durchaus vorschlagen können, es mit ‚Differenz‘ wiederzugeben: Hierfür spricht auch, dass Platon sich an ein Konzept des Vorsokratikers Hesiod anlehnt, demzufolge der Anfang allen Seins chaos ist.34 Im Altgriechischen bezeichnet das Wort insofern die damit im Deutschen assoziierte ‚Un-Ordnung‘ als es sich mit ‚Klaffendes‘ oder ‚Offen-Stehendes‘ übersetzen lässt. Als solches umfasst chaos die Möglichkeit von Ordnung durch deren 29 Vgl. Moretti, Franco. Atlas des europäischen Romans. Wo die Literatur spielte. Köln: DuMont, 1999, 142 ff. 30 Vgl. Lotman, Juri. „Zur Metasprache typologischer Kultur-Beschreibungen“ In: Ders. Aufsätze zur Theorie und Methodologie der Literatur und Kultur, Karl Eimermacher (Hrsg./Übers.), 338–377. Kronenberg i. Ts.: Scriptor, 1974. 31 Panikkar, Raimon. „There Is no Outer without Inner Space“ In: Concepts of Space Ancient and Modern, Kapila Vatsyayan (Hrsg.), 7–38. Neu Delhi: Abhinav Publications, 1991. 32 Platon. Timaios, 49a. 33 Vgl. Derrida, Jacques. Chōra. Wien: Passagen, 1990, 17. 34 Vgl. Kratzert, Thomas. Die Entdeckung des Raums. Vom hesiodischen ‚χάος‘ zur platonischen ‚χώρα‘. Amsterdam/Philadelphia: Grüner, 1998.

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Negation. Das chaos ist ein Grund ‚ohne Boden‘ oder wie Heidegger es im Blick auf den Raum formuliert, ist „[d]er Ab-grund […] die ursprüngliche Wesung des Grundes. […] Im Sichversagen bringt der Grund in einer ausgezeichneten Weise in das Offene, nämlich in das erst Offene jener Leere, die damit eine bestimmte ist.“35 Weniger mystisch als Heidegger stellt der französische Dichter Georges Perec in seinem Buch Espèces d’espaces über ‚Arten von Räumen‘ aus dem Jahr des Erscheinens von Lefebvres Theorie der Raumproduktion sein Projekt vor: „Das Thema dieses Buches ist nicht eigentlich die Leere, sondern vielmehr das, was drum herum oder darin ist.“36 – Darauf verweist auch eine Darstellung, die er seinem Text voranstellt und die der Ballade The Hunting of the Snark des Schriftstellers Lewis Carroll von 1876 entnommen ist: Es handelt sich dabei um eine Seekarte, die außer eines beschrifteten Rahmens nur Leere zeigt, das heißt: Raum als potentiell differenzierbaren oder die ‚Wesung‘ des ‚Offenen‘.37 Differenzlogische Beschreibungen findet sich auch in monotheistischen Schöpfungsberichten, wie der biblischen Genesis, der zufolge die erste Schöpfungshandlung in der Teilung von Himmel und Erde besteht, durch die erst mit dem ‚Tohuwabohu‘ (von hebr. tohu, für ‚wüst‘, und vavohu für ‚leer‘) der (leere) Raum entsteht. Hesiod nimmt dagegen umgekehrt die Erde (symbolisiert durch die Göttin Gaia) als aus dem Chaos hervorgegangen an: „Zuallererst wahrlich entstand das Chaos, aber dann die breitbrüstige Gaia, der niemals wankende Sitz.“38 In der Forschung wird die Auffassung vertreten, dass mit diesem Satz die Emanzipation vom mythisch-theologischen Denken erfolgt, da mit chaos keine Gottheit mehr angesprochen wird, sondern ein Prinzip. Tatsächlich besteht an dieser Stelle die Versuchung, einen ‚wahren‘ Begriff des Raums zu postulieren, nämlich einen solchen, in dem Chora und Topos als (chaotische-abgründige) Differenz verbunden sind. ‚Orte‘ wären demnach die markierte Seite der Unterscheidung ‚Raum‘, auf deren unmarkierter Seite sich alle ‚Nicht-Orte‘ befinden. Doch eingedenk Lefebvres dialektischem Ansatz ist jedwede ontologische Annäherung wiederum ein Beitrag zur Raumproduktion, der sich diesem Prozess nicht entziehen kann. Daher geht es in einer reflektierten Raumtheorie darum, eine möglichst transdisziplinäre Methode zur Anwendung zu bringen, mit der eine Analyse räumlicher Formen möglich ist, die mit Bachelard gesprochen einer poetischen Hervorbringung von Raum gleich kommt.

35 Heidegger, Martin. Beiträge zur Philosophie (Vom Ereignis), Friedrich-Wilhelm v. Herrmann (Hrsg.). Frankfurt a.M: Klostermann, 1989, 379 f. 36 Perec, Georges. Träume von Räumen. Frankfurt a.M: Fischer, 1994, 10. 37 Vgl. Carroll, Lewis. The Hunting of the Snark. London: Macmillan, 1876, 11. 38 Hesiod. Theogonie. Sankt Augustin: Academia, 1993, 53.

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Diese besteht in einer topologischen Beschreibung, deren Potential gerade in der Beschreibung literarischer Texte zu Tage tritt.39

Literatur Aristoteles. Über die Seele. Bachelard, Gaston. Die Bildung des wissenschaftlichen Geistes. Beitrag zu einer Psychoanalyse der objektiven Erkenntnis, Michael Bischoff (Übers.). Frankfurt a.M.: Suhrkamp, 1987 [1938]. Bachelard, Gaston. Die Poetik des Raumes. Frankfurt a.M.: Fischer, 1987. Bhabha, Homi. „The Third Space“ In: Identity. Community, Culture, Difference, Jonathan Rutherford (Hrsg.), 207–221. London: Lawrence and Wishart, 1990. Bloch, Ernst. „Topos Utopia“ In: Ders. Abschied von der Utopie? Vorträge, 43–64. Frankfurt a.M.: Suhrkamp, 1980. Bourdieu, Pierre. „Sozialer Raum, Symbolischer Raum“ In: Raumtheorie. Grundlagentexte aus Philosophie und Kulturwissenschaften, Jörg Dünne und Stephan Günzel (Hrsg.), 354–368. Frankfurt a.M.: Suhrkamp, 2006. Borges, Jorge Luis. „Das Aleph“ In: Ders. Werke. Bd. VI: Das Aleph. Erzählungen 1944–1952, Karl August Horst und Gisbert Haefs (Übers.). Frankfurt a.M.: Fischer, 1992, 131–148. Carroll, Lewis: The Hunting of the Snark. London: Macmillan, 1876. Debord, Guy. „Theorie des Umherschweifens“ In: Der Beginn einer Epoche. Texte der Situationisten, Pierre Gallissaires, Hanna Mittelstädt und Roberto Orth (Hrsg.), 64–67. Hamburg: Nautilus, 1995. Derrida, Jacques. Chōra. Wien: Passagen, 1990. Foucault, Michel. „Von anderen Räumen“ In: Schriften in vier Bänden. Bd. IV, Daniel Defert und François Ewald (Hrsg.), Michael Bischoff, Hans-Dieter Gondek, Hermann Kocyba und Jürgen Schröder (Übers.), 931–942. Frankfurt a.M.: Suhrkamp, 2005. Goodman, Nelson. Sprachen der Kunst. Entwurf einer Symboltheorie. Frankfurt a.M: Suhrkamp, 1998. Günzel, Stephan (Hrsg.). Topologie. Zur Raumbeschreibung in den Kultur- und Medienwissenschaften. Bielefeld: Transcript, 2007. Heidegger, Martin. Beiträge zur Philosophie (Vom Ereignis), Friedrich-Wilhelm v. Herrmann (Hrsg.). Frankfurt a.M: Klostermann, 1989. Herder, Johann G. Metakritik zur Kritik der reinen Vernunft. Berlin: Aufbau-Verlag, 1955. Hesiod. Theogonie. Sankt Augustin: Academia, 1993. Horkheimer, Max und Theodor W. Adorno. Dialektik der Aufklärung. Philosophische Fragmente. Frankfurt a.M: Fischer, 1988. Jameson, Frederic. „Postmoderne. Zur Logik der Kultur im Spätkapitalismus“ In: Postmoderne. Zeichen eines kulturellen Wandels, Andreas Huyssen und Klaus R. Scherpe (Hrsg.), Hildegard Föcking und Sylvia Klötzer (Übers.), 45–102. Reinbek b. Hamburg: Rowohlt, 1986.

39 Vgl. Günzel, Stephan (Hrsg.). Topologie. Zur Raumbeschreibung in den Kultur- und Medienwissenschaften, Bielefeld: Transcript, 2007.

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Jaspers, Karl. Von der Wahrheit. München: Piper, 1947. Kant, Immanuel. Kritik der reinen Vernunft. Hamburg: Meiner, 1993. Kratzert, Thomas. Die Entdeckung des Raums. Vom hesiodischen ‚χάος‘ zur platonischen ‚χώρα‘. Amsterdam/Philadelphia: Grüner, 1998. Lacan, Jacques. „Das Drängen des Buchstaben im Unbewussten oder die Vernunft seit Freud (1957)“ In: Ders. Schriften II, Norbert Haas (Hrsg.), Norbert Haas, Hans-Joachim Metzger, Monika Metzger und Peter Stehlin (Übers.), 15–55. Weinheim/Berlin: Quadriga, 1991. Lefebvre, Henri. „Die Produktion des Raums“ In: Raumtheorie. Grundlagentexte aus Philosophie und Kulturwissenschaften, Jörg Dünne und Stephan Günzel (Hrsg.), Jörg Dünne (Übers.), 330–342. Frankfurt a.M: Suhrkamp, 2006. Lotman, Juri. „Zur Metasprache typologischer Kultur-Beschreibungen“ In: Aufsätze zur Theorie und Methodologie der Literatur und Kultur, Karl Eimermacher (Hrsg./Übers.), 338–377. Kronenberg i. Ts.: Scriptor, 1974. Massey, Doreen. „ Space, Place and Gender“ In: Dies. Space, Place, and Gender, 185–190. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1994. Minkowski, Eugène. „Ansätze zu einer Psychopathologie des gelebten Raumes“ In: Ders. Die gelebte Zeit. Bd. II: Über den zeitlichen Aspekt psychopathologischer Phänomene, 232–267. Salzburg: Müller, 1972. Moretti, Franco. Atlas des europäischen Romans. Wo die Literatur spielte. Köln: DuMont, 1999. Panikkar, Raimon. „There Is no Outer without Inner Space“ In: Concepts of Space Ancient and Modern, Kapila Vatsyayan (Hrsg.), 7–38. Neu Delhi: Abhinav Publications, 1991. Perec, Georges. Träume von Räumen. Frankfurt a.M: Fischer, 1994. Platon. Timaios. Poulet, Georges. Metamorphosen des Kreises in der Dichtung. Frankfurt a.M: Suhrkamp, 1988. Rubin, Gayle: „The Traffic in Women. Notes on the ‚Political Economy‘ of Sex“ In: Toward an Anthropology of Women, Rayna R. Reiter (Hrsg.), 157–210. New York/London: Monthly Review Press, 1975. Schäffner, Wolfgang. „Operationale Topographie. Repräsentationsräume in den Niederlanden um 1600“ In: Räume des Wissens. Repräsentation, Codierung, Spur, Hans-Jörg Rheinberger, Michael Hagner und Bettina Wahrig-Schmidt (Hrsg.), 63–90. Berlin: Akademie, 1997. Sloterdijk, Peter. Sphären. Bd. I: Blasen. Mikrosphärologie. Frankfurt a.M.: Suhrkamp, 1998. Soja, Edward W. Postmodern Geographies. The Reassertion of Space in Critical Social Theory. London/New York: Routledge, 1989. Spencer Brown, George. Laws of Form. Gesetze der Form, Thomas Wolf (Übers.), Lübeck: Bohmeier, 1997. Tuan, Yi-Fu. „Topophilia, or Sudden Encounter with the Landscape“ Landscape 11:1 (1961): 29–32. Turner, Frederick J. „Die Grenze. Ihre Bedeutung in der amerikanischen Geschichte“ In: Die Grenze. Ihre Bedeutung in der amerikanischen Geschichte, Charlotte v. Cossel (Übers.) Bremen: Dorn, 1947, 11–43.

Fernand Guelf

Die Illusion des Fortschritts Zwischen Vergangenheit und Zukunft. Walter Benjamin und Henri Lefebvre Abstract: After breaking with the communist party Henri Lefebvre adopts a non-dogmatic interpretation of historical materialism in his article “Vers un romantisme révolutionnaire” (1957). Lefebvre’s position has parallels in the 1920s and 1930s in Walter Benjamin’s works among others. The starting-point is a critical attitude in regard to an uncompromising ideology of progress and the evolutionary belief in progress. For Lefebvre and Benjamin one aspect of modern times is that hitherto certain and generally valid codes as an inherent part of knowledge and social practice are disintegrating. An increasingly abstract world leaves the individual without orientation and an easy prey to conditioning. The general loss of coherence entails that man’s links to nature and to his own past get lost. Restricted to a mythical consciousness, the individual becomes the plaything of the ruling classes and their interests. Technological progress turns into an uncontrollable weapon. In the name of pre-modern social positions and values both Lefebvre and Benjamin plead against the “Entzauberung der Welt” (Max Weber) and against the “entgötterte Natur” (Friedrich Schiller), insisting on the visionary character of the revolt. By turning to the past man can attempt to recover remnants of his paradisiacal origins, he can avoid losing contact with his own history and develop perspectives for the future from his experience and analysis. Key terms like “Eingedenken, Jetztzeit, Momente, Residuen, Phantasmagorie, Utopie” guide this comparison of common and divergent positions of Henri Lefebvre and Walter Benjamin. The aim is the revolutionary demand for the interruption of continuing development and the withdrawal from the fatal course of history.

1 Romantische Revolution und Eingedenken Die Wurzel der Geschichte, aber ist der arbeitende, schaffende, die Gegebenheiten umbildende und überholende Mensch. Hat er sich erfasst und das Seine ohne Entäußerung und Entfremdung in realer Demokratie begründet, so entsteht in der Welt etwas, das allen in die Kindheit scheint und worin doch Niemand war: Heimat.1 1 Bloch, Ernst. Das Prinzip Hoffnung. Frankfurt a.M.: Suhrkamp, 1985, 1628. https://doi.org/10.1515/9783110494983-003

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In einem Brief an den mexikanischen Schriftsteller Octavio Paz formuliert Henri Lefebvre, Paz habe in seinem Buch Conjunciones y Disyunciones (1969) eine allgemeine Geschichte über die Verbindung zwischen Leib und Seele, Leben und Tod geschrieben. Es fehle, so Lefebvre, eine allgemeine Geschichte, eine Phänomenologie im hegelschen Sinne des Körpers, der Liebe usw. Er, Lefebvre, habe versucht einige Kapitel eines solchen Werks „dans un style hélas c o o l“ zu schreiben – cool auch aufgrund seiner konzeptuellen und theoretisch analytischen Herangehensweise. Dabei liebe und schätze er die Poesie, das verbindlich Menschliche. Der nie abgeschickte Brief ist die Einleitung zu Lefebvres 1980 erschienenem Werk La présence et l’absence. Contribution à la théorie des représentations.2 Bereits in den dreißiger Jahren des zwanzigsten Jahrhunderts schreibt Lefebvre gegen das System einer allwissenden Philosophie und ihrer Ansprüche. Wie die Romantiker will Lefebvre das „Leben und die Gesellschaft poetisch machen“ und den stagnierenden Alltag revolutionieren. Die Kunst – Lefebvre selbst hat eine besondere Affinität zu Poesie und Musik – provoziere Möglichkeiten, die Realität und den Alltag in einem quasi permanenten Experiment immer wieder neu zu betrachten und zu gestalten. Forderungen, die bereits die Gruppe Philosophie um Georges Politzer, Norbert Guterman, Pierre Morhange, Paul Nizan sowie die surrealistische Bewegung um André Breton, Tristan Tzara, Max Jacob erhoben haben und die in den fünfziger, sechziger und siebziger Jahren ihre Renaissance in Frankreich in der situationistischen Bewegung um Guy Debord gefunden haben. „Nous pensons d’abord qu’il faut changer le monde. Nous voulons le changement libérateur de la société et de la vie où nous nous trouvons enfermés“,3 schreibt Debord 1957 im Rapport sur la construction des situations. Im „conflit perpétuel entre le désir et la réalité hostile au désir“4 liegt für Lefebvre das revolutionäre Potential, das das utopische Element des possible-impossible zum Ausgangspunkt des Denkens, vor allem des Kunstwerks macht. Da die Lösungsansätze nicht in den klassischen philosophischen Schulen zu finden sind, will Lefebvre eine Zeit neu entdecken, in der „es [noch] keinen Unterschied zwischen dem philosophischen und dem poetischen Sprechen“5 gab. Dieser romantisch revolutionären Position entspricht

2 Lefebvre, Henri. La présence et l’absence. Contribution à la théorie des représentations. Paris: Casterman, 1980. 3 Debord, Guy. „Rapport sur la construction des situations“ In: Œuvres, Jean-Louis Rançon (Hrsg.), 309–327. Paris: Gallimard, 2006. 4 Vgl. Debord, Rapport sur la construction des situations, 327. 5 Lefebvre, Henri. Metaphilosophie. Prolegomena. Frankfurt a.M.: Suhrkamp, 1975, 72.

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die kritische Grundhaltung Lefebvres gegenüber der kapitalistischen, modernen Zivilisation mit ihrer prosaischen, utilitaristischen Weltsicht. Der romantische Revolutionär plädiert im Namen vor-moderner sozialer Positionen und Werte gegen die Entzauberung der Welt (Max Weber) und gegen die entgötterte Natur (Fr. Schiller), betont dabei den visionären und zukunftsorientierten Charakter der Revolte. Indem Lefebvres Metaphilosophie (1965) Dimensionen im Denken und Handeln fordert, die über die Philosophie hinausgehen, überwindet sie das Feld des Realen (réel), setzt das Spekulative anstelle traditioneller Denkformen. Das oui et non, das Zusammenspiel der Gegensätze, soll ein unfertiges, vorläufiges, in den geschichtlichen Ablauf eingebundenes Denken definieren, das die Bereiche wissenschaftlicher und weniger wissenschaftlicher Arbeit aufgreift und verarbeitet. Das interdisziplinäre Arbeiten, das Einbinden möglichst breit gefächerter Denkansätze und wissenschaftlicher Disziplinen sowie das Vorläufige der Argumentationsketten, lassen die Stringenz für den Rezensenten oft ins Leere laufen. Lefebvre definiert seine Analyse als regressiv-progressiv. Eine Methode, die auf der Vorstellung von Karl Marx basiert, der Mensch könne erst als Erwachsener das Kind in seiner Wesenheit verstehen. Im historischen Kontext bedeutet dies, dass die Betrachtung und Analyse der Geschichte erst im Nachhinein möglich ist. Aber ebenso wie die Geschichte sich nur vom Gegenwärtigen aus interpretieren lässt (regressiv), gibt das Gewesene eine Bewegung zu erkennen, die hilft, eine virtuelle, zukunftsorientierte Hypothese zu erstellen (progressiv). Die regressiv-progressive Vorgehensweise schafft dabei ein Spannungsverhältnis zwischen den Zeitebenen, die unter einer permanenten gegenseitigen Beeinflussung sowohl erkenntnistheoretischen wie auch spekulativen Charakter haben. Im Rahmen der regressiv-progressiv Methode entwirft eine strategische Hypothese eine in der Zukunft liegende Möglichkeit, wendet dieses Mögliche auf die Gegenwart an, um die so gewonnenen Erkenntnisse erneut auf zukünftig Mögliches zu projizieren. Empirische Daten werden mit den erarbeitenden Konzepten in Verbindung gebracht, um diese wiederum in Frage zu stellen. Im Fall einer dynamischen Realität wie beispielsweise die fortschreitende Urbanisierung bedarf es der kontinuierlichen Erweiterung von Positionen und der Neuinterpretation von Gegebenheiten. Die Transduktion als logische Form bestimmt vorwiegend in den sechziger Jahren große Teile von Lefebvres Schriften. Im Vorwort zur zweiten Ausgabe von Logique formelle, logique dialectique (1947) wird die „transduction“ als eigenständig wissenschaftliche Methode, das Spekulative als Teil wissenschaftlicher Arbeit vorgeschlagen.

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A côté de la déduction et de l’induction, la méthodologie approfondie dialectiquement devait présenter des opérations nouvelles, telles que la transduction, opération de la pensée sur/vers un objet virtuel pour le construire et le réaliser. Ce serait une logique de l’objet possible et/ou impossible.6

Lefebvres Metaphilosophie ist alltagsbezogen, bewegt sich zwecks Erhellung der gesellschaftlichen Zustände im Kontext konkret utopischer Zukunftsdimensionen unter permanenter Evaluierung gegenwärtiger und vergangener Situationen. Der Mensch geht über sich, das bisher Erreichte, das Bewusstsein und das was dem Bewusstsein entgeht, hinaus. Ein Akt, der gelingt oder misslingt. Für Lefebvre Chance und Notwendigkeit, das vorherrschende Reale (réel) zu überwinden.7 Der Denkansatz trifft sich in relevanten Aspekten mit der Philosophie Ernst Blochs. Lefebvre stellt wie Bloch die Dialektik von Bedürfnis und Wunsch im Alltagsleben als Faktoren kritischer Erfahrung heraus. Das Andere, das MöglichUnmögliche, das Noch-Nicht-Bewusste bestimmt das utopische Bewusstsein. Kein einsamer, beziehungsloser Geistes- oder Seelenzustand, kein von der Realität gänzlich abgelöstes Phantasieprodukt, sondern der Geburtsort des Neuen: die psychische Repräsentierung des Noch-Nicht-Gewordenen. Das Bewusstmachen ist „konkrete Antizipation“, in der der „Vulkan der Produktivität sein Feuer“ wirft. Das Feuer brennt im Kunstwerk, dem Geniewerk, das über seine Zeit hinaus etwas zu sagen hat – „ein weiterdeutendes Novum, das die vorige Zeit an ihnen noch nicht bemerkt hatte“.8 Das Noch-Nicht-Gewordene schöpft aus der Vergangenheit, in die man sich hineindenkt. Um die Geschichte in ihren Zusammenhängen erkennen und hinterfragen zu können, bedarf es des Eingedenkens. Ein Weiterdenken, das [...] einen Überschuss an Sinn zum Ausdruck [bringt], der über das Gegebene hinausgeht. Das Vergangene fruchtbar für die Gegenwart machen, beinhaltet zugleich eine Verpflichtung für die Zukunft. [...] das Pochende, Unterdrückte, Zukünftige, das nicht werden konnte in all dem zähen Teig des Gewordenen, reumütig zu lockern, in immer noch lebendiger, besserwissender Mitverantwortlichkeit, es vor allem auch wertgemäß zu

6 Lefebvre, Henri. Logique formelle, logique dialectique. Paris: Éditions sociales, 1982, XXIII. „Neben der Deduktion und der Induktion musste [müsste]* eine profunde dialektische Methodologie neue Operationen anführen wie die Transduktion, ein gedankliches Verfahren auf ein virtuelles Objekt um es aufzubauen und zu realisieren. Das wäre eine Logik des möglichen oder/und unmöglichen Gegenstandes.“ (Übers. F.G.) *Im Original schreibt Lefebvre devait (Imparfait). M.E. müsste es devrait (Conditionnel) heißen. 7 Vgl. Lefebvre, Henri. Qu’est-ce que penser? Paris: Publisud, 1985, 96. 8 Vgl. Bloch, Das Prinzip Hoffnung, 143.

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beziehen, zu erleichtern und einzuschließen, ist die denkerische, geschichtsphilosophische Arbeit.9

Das in der Vergangenheit Ruhende enthält Elemente des Zukünftigen. Die Fixierungen der Zukunft sind von Unentschiedenheiten bestimmt, die bisher ungeahnte Alternativen bereithalten. Das Messianische – „auf uns wartende, unbekannte Götter“10 – ist bei Bloch das Unbestimmte, Unentdeckte, aber auch das Hoffnungsvolle, das zum Handeln Auffordernde, das die Genesis aus der Vergangenheit in die Zukunft verlegt, um „[d]as System des theoretischen Messianismus sturmreif zu machen [...] für den praktischen Messianismus.“11 Die Wasser der Vergessenheit fließen in der Unterwelt, aber der lastalische Quell der Produktivität entspringt auf dem Parnass ‚als einem Berge‘. So arbeitet Produktivität, obwohl sie aus der Tiefe kommt, gerade erst am Licht und setzt immer wieder neuen Ursprung, nämlich einen auf der Höhe des Bewusstseins.12

Der neue Ursprung auf der Höhe eines sich ständig erweiternden Bewusstseins, das das „überwiegend statische Denken“ und die „Welt der Wiederholung oder des Großen Immer-Wieder“ in ihrem fatalen Stillstand zu unterbrechen sucht,13 impliziert einen Einschnitt in die Linearität der Abläufe. „Denken heißt überschreiten“ ist über die Kritik an der Philosophie der „fertigseiend gesetzten Formen, Idee oder Substanz“14 hinaus eine Aufforderung, den Ablauf der Geschichte immer wieder dort anzuhalten, wo sie sich gegen den Menschen entwickelt.

2 Passagen und abstrakter Raum Die gesellschaftliche Entwicklung begleitet und kommentiert Lefebvre in Critique de la vie quotidienne (1947, 1961 und 1981). Der Alltag ist Ausgangspunkt seiner soziologischen Studien vor allem aber der Positionierung des Individuums in Raum und Zeit. Der zentrale Gedanke findet sich ebenfalls in Lefebvres Theorie der fortschreitenden Urbanisierung, der Theorie des Raumes, in seinen diversen 9 Bloch, Ernst. Geist der Utopie. Frankfurt a.M.: Suhrkamp, 1971 [1918], 335. 10 Bloch, Geist der Utopie, 335. 11 Bloch, Geist der Utopie, 337. 12 Bloch, Das Prinzip Hoffnung, 144. 13 Bloch, Das Prinzip Hoffnung, 4. 14 Bloch, Das Prinzip Hoffnung, 2 f.

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Annäherungen an eine Theorie der Momente und in den, gegen Ende seines Lebens verfassten und posthum veröffentlichten Éléments de rythmanalyse15 (1992): Der Alltag besteht aus den Interferenzen zwischen Prozessen und zyklischen Zeiten und Prozessen und linearen Abläufen. Zwei unterschiedliche Modalitäten der Wiederholung. Die zyklische Zeit – in Lefebvres La révolution urbaine (1970) Merkmal der archaischen Gesellschaftsstrukturen, in denen das Immerwiederkehrende in der Natur ein zeitloses Dasein ohne Anfang und Ende bestimmt – geht im aufkommenden Industriezeitalter über in eine lineare Zeitvorstellung, die sich weniger an dem von der Natur vorgegebenen Abläufen orientiert als an den Vorgaben der wirtschaftlichen Interessen und Kalkulation: „L’espace économique se subordonne le temps.“ 16Durch den Prozess der Reproduktion der Produktions- und der gesellschaftlichen Verhältnisse entstehen zyklusähnliche Strukturen. Die der kapitalistischen Gesellschaftsstruktur immanente „Vorherrschaft der Wiederholung“ bestimmt die „Konsumgesellschaft, (die in Wahrheit eine bürokratische Gesellschaft des gelenkten Konsums ist)“. Das Authentische und das Nachgemachte, das Original und die Kopien sind nicht mehr unterscheidbar.17 Die komplexen Zusammenhänge zwischen linearer und zyklischer Zeit werden zum undurchschaubaren Geflecht im Dienste der herrschenden Ideologie. Lefebvres Darstellung entspricht der Welt des aufstrebenden Kapitalismus in Walter Benjamins Passagen-Werk: ein Universum der Wiederholung des Immergleichen, das furchtbare und infernale Mythos der ewigen Wiederkehr.18 Der Besucher bewegt sich in einem traumähnlichen Zustand durch die Pariser Passagen im 19. Jahrhundert. Die überdeckten Räume sind Inbegriff für die Reproduktion des produzierten Raumes am Eingang der Moderne. In dieser „Hohlform, aus der das Bild der Stadt gegossen wurde“, sind Innen und Außen, Wirklichkeit und Schein untrennbar miteinander verbunden. Die Phantasmagorie bestimmt den Alltag. Der „Fortschritt der Naturbeherrschung“ wird zum „Rückschritt der Gesellschaft“. Das Neue, das die Moderne verspricht, ist einzig die Wiederholung des Immer-Gleichen.

15 Lefebvre, Henri. Éléments de rythmanalyse. Introduction à la connaissance des rythmes. Paris: Éditions Syllepse, 1992. 16 Lefebvre, Henri. La production de l’espace. Paris: Anthropos, 2000 [1974], 114. 17 Vgl. Lefebvre, Henri. Die Zukunft des Kapitalismus. München: Paul List Verlag, 1974, 38. 18 Vgl. Benjamin, Walter. „Paris, Capitale du XIXème siècle“ In: Gesammelte Schriften. Bd. V/1: Das Passagen-Werk, Rolf Tiedemann und Hermann Schweppenhäuser (Hrsg.), 60–78. Frankfurt a.M.: Suhrkamp, 1991, 61; 71; 75; 77.

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Es handelt sich nicht darum, dass ‚immer wieder dasselbe‘ geschieht, sondern darum, dass das Gesicht der Welt, das übergroße Haupt, gerade in dem, was das Neueste ist, sich nie verändert, dass dies ‚Neueste‘ in allen Stücken immer das Nämliche bleibt. Das konstituiert die Ewigkeit der Hölle und die Neuerungslust der Sadisten.19

Der Verlust des Originals bedeutet die Liquidation des Gedächtnisses an das Ursprüngliche, an das von der Natur Vorgegebene. Das Menschenmaterial vermengt sich mit dem Baumaterial der Passagen: „Zuhälter sind die eisernen Naturen dieser Straße und ihre gläsernen Spröden sind Huren.“20 Die ewige Wiederkehr ist die Grundform des urgeschichtlichen, mythischen Bewusstseins. (Es ist wohl eben darum ein mythisches, weil es nicht reflektiert.)21

Die Essenz des mythischen Geschehens beinhaltet die sysiphosische Vorstellung von der Vergeblichkeit eines verändernden Handelns. Durch das Unreflektierte fällt das menschliche Verhalten zurück auf eine mythische Stufe. Benjamins Bestandsaufnahme der Großstadt Paris im 19. Jahrhundert findet Parallelen bei Henri Lefebvres Charakterisierung des abstrakten Raums. Der Raum, ein historisches Produkt, steht mit allen Eigenheiten für die Menschheitsgeschichte. Produkt und Produktion des Raumes sind, da in ständiger Wechselwirkung befindlich, verschränkt, „de sorte que la production et le produit se présentent comme deux côtés inséparables et non comme deux représentations séparables“.22 Entstanden aus den Produktionsverhältnissen der jeweiligen Gesellschaftsstrukturen, gibt der Raum „als soziales Produkt“23 Aufschluss über den Prozess, der dieser Entwicklung zugrunde liegt. Zugleich zeichnet er den Status der ‚Entwicklung‘ und den diese Entwicklung spiegelnden Alltag. Da die Geschichte in all ihren Dimensionen in den Raum eingeschrieben ist, dient auch hier die regressiv-progressiv Methode zur Analyse des Raumes.

19 Benjamin, Walter. „Erste Notizen: Pariser Passagen I“ In: Gesammelte Schriften. Bd. V/2: Das Passagen-Werk, Rolf Tiedemann und Hermann Schweppenhäuser (Hrsg.), 991–1038. Frankfurt a.M.: Suhrkamp, 1991, 1011. 20 Benjamin, Walter. „Pariser Passagen II“ In: Gesammelte Schriften. Bd. V/2: Das Passagen-Werk, Rolf Tiedemann und Hermann Schweppenhäuser (Hrsg.), 1044–1059. Frankfurt a.M.: Suhrkamp, 1991, 1044. 21 Benjamin, Walter. „Aufzeichnungen und Materialien“ In: Gesammelte Schriften. Bd. V/1: Das Passagen-Werk, Rolf Tiedemann und Hermann Schweppenhäuser (Hrsg.), 79–654. Frankfurt a.M.: Suhrkamp, 1991, 177. 22 Lefebvre, La production de l’espace, 47. 23 Vgl. Lefebvre, La production de l’espace, 39.

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Le passé a laissé ses traces, ses inscriptions, écriture du temps. Mais cet espace est toujours, aujourd’hui comme jadis, un espace présent, donné comme un tout actuel, avec ses liaisons et connexions en acte.24

Obwohl Lefebvres Raumtheorie auf dem historischen Materialismus basiert, entsprechen die Merkmale des Raumes nur annähernd der Abfolge von Produktionsweisen wie Marx sie definiert. Entdeckungen und technischer Fortschritt sind Teil eines kumulativen Prozesses, begleiten das Wachstum durch Akkumulation. Deren zunehmende Bedeutung und die Tendenz zur Abstraktion durch Signale und Zeichen über- und hintergehen die Sinne als Basis der Wahrnehmung. Die Ökonomie als determinierende Kraft entfremdet Individuum und Gruppe von der ihnen eigenen Geschichte, macht sie, da ihr Handeln größtenteils vom ökonomischen Prozess bestimmt wird, blind.25 Bis dato sichere und allgemeingültige, dem Wissen und der sozialen Praxis inhärent erscheinende Codes, befinden sich zunächst in einem unauffälligen Verfallsprozess. Bruchstücke aus Wörtern, Bildern, Metaphern vermögen nur zusammenhanglos die Welt wiederzugeben.26 Die „zugleich äußerliche und abstrakte Welt“ bewirkt, dass das Individuum in all seinen Gesten und seinem Handeln orientierungslos und konditionierbar ist. Die rasante technische Entwicklung fördert eine weitere Ausgrenzung des Menschen, der in einem Traumschlaf in einem Traumhaus27 dem vermeintlichen Fortschrittsprozess apokalyptische Züge verleiht. Transportés hors de soi, transférés, les corps vivants se vident par les yeux: appels, interpellations, sollicitations multiples proposent aux corps vivants des doubles d’eux-mêmes, enjolivés, souriants, heureux: et les évacuent dans la mesure exacte où la proposition correspond à un ‚besoin‘ que d’ailleurs elle contribue à façonner.28

24 Lefebvre, La production de l’espace, 47. „Die Vergangenheit hat ihre Spuren hinterlassen, ihre Einträge, eine Handschrift der Zeit. Aber dieser Raum ist immer, heute wie damals, ein gegenwärtiger Raum, gegeben als ein aktuelles Ganzes mit seinen geschaffenen und im Entstehen befindlichen Verbindungen und Zusammenhängen.*“ (Übers. F.G.) * Lefebvre benutzt den Begriff „en acte“ in Anlehnung an Aristoteles. Der Akt bezieht sich auf das, was dabei ist sich zu erfüllen oder/und das, was bereits erfüllt ist. 25 Vgl. Lefebvre, Henri. Kritik des Alltagslebens. Frankfurt a.M.: Fischer, 1987, 580. 26 Vgl. Lefebvre, La production de l’espace, 34. 27 Benjamin, Aufzeichnungen und Materialien, 490. 28 Lefebvre, La production de l’espace, 418. „Außerhalb ihrer selbst gebracht, transferiert, entleeren sich die lebendigen ‚Leiber‘ durch ihre Augen: Anrufe, Interpellationen, verschiedenste Verlockungen bieten den lebendigen Leibern* Doppelgänger ihrer selbst an, geschönt, lächelnd, glücklich: und scheiden in dem Maße aus wie das Angebot einem Bedürfnis entspricht, das es übrigens selbst zu entwerfen hilft.“ (Übers. F.G.) *Der Begriff „corps“ ist in Anlehnung an Merleau-Ponty mit „Leib“ zu übersetzen – die Vollzugsinstanz eines sinnhaft wahrnehmenden und aktiven Zur-Welt-Seins.

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Die Merkmale des „abstrakten Raumes“ sind ein abstrahierendes, reduzierendes und homogenisierendes Denken, „une pensée qui sépare (qui disjoint la logique et la dialectique), qui réduit (les contradictions à la cohérence), qui mélange les résidus de la réduction (la logique et la pratique sociale, par exemple)“.29 Die Homogenität selbst steht im Dienst der Herrschenden – der abstrakte Raum ist für Lefebvre durchaus politisch, „institué par un état, donc institutionnel“ –, die alle Unebenheiten weghobeln, wie „ein Bulldozer, ein Kampfpanzer“ zermalmen.30 Die „instrumentelle Homogenität“ spiegelt sich in einer empirischen Darstellung des Raumes, die kritiklos die herrschende reduzierende Ideologie übernommen hat.

3 Jetztzeit und Momente In These VII von Über den Begriff der Geschichte fordert Benjamin, die Geschichtsschreibung nicht den „Erben aller, die je gesiegt haben“ zu überlassen. Sie sind die „Herrschenden, die ihren „Triumphzug [...] über die dahinführt, die heute am Boden liegen“. Die „Geschichte gegen den Strich zu bürsten“31 heißt, sich einem Fortschritt zu verweigern, der im Strom der Geschichte schwimmt. Einer Geschichte, die von den Siegern geschrieben wird. Wahre Geschichte konstituiert sich erst, indem sie erzählt wird. Dabei hängt die Darstellung wesentlich von der erzählenden Gegenwart, dem Bewusstseinszustand und der Erfahrung des Erzählers ab. Für Walter Benjamin ist das Rekonstruieren der Geschichte keine objektive Gegebenheit, die sich an einem linearen Zusammenhang orientieren kann. Geschichtliche Abläufe sind weder in einer unendlichen Kette von Ursachen und Wirkungen begründet, noch basieren sie auf historischen Gesetzen, die eine Zukunft voraussehen lassen. Das Kontinuum in der Geschichte ist das der Unterdrücker. Während die Vorstellung des Kontinuums alles dem Erdboden gleichmacht, ist die Vorstellung des Diskontinuums die Grundlage echter Tradition.32

29 Lefebvre, La production de l’espace, 354. 30 Vgl. Lefebvre, La production de l’espace, 328. 31 Benjamin, Walter. „Über den Begriff der Geschichte“ In: Gesammelte Schriften. Bd. I/2: Abhandlungen, Rolf Tiedemann und Hermann Schweppenhäuser (Hrsg.), 1223–1266. Frankfurt a.M.: Suhrkamp, 1980, 696. 32 Benjamin, Walter. „691–704. Über den Begriff der Geschichte.“ In: Gesammelte Schriften. Bd. I/3: Anmerkungen der Herausgeber, Rolf Tiedemann und Hermann Schweppenhäuser (Hrsg.), 691–704. Frankfurt a.M.: Suhrkamp 1991, 1236.

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Der Moment in der Gegenwart, die Jetztzeit, ist die Gegenwart der Erkenntnis, der Brennpunkt, aus dem Vergangenheit und Zukunft hervorgehen. Augenblicke der Vergangenheit aufleben zu lassen, die Gegenwart in ihr wiederzuerkennen, kann die Kontinuität der „Geschichte der Sieger“ durchbrechen, die „Geschichte der Besiegten“ vor dem Vergessen retten und den Augenblick des Vergangenen für die Gegenwart und Zukunft nutzbar machen. Die Jetztzeit entfaltet sich erst in ihrem Verhältnis zu Augenblicken in der Vergangenheit, die sie hervorholt, in ihr fündig wird und so das tradierte politische Bewusstsein der Gegenwart durchschaut und überwindet. In These XIV von Über den Begriff der Geschichte spricht Benjamin von einem „Tigersprung ins Vergangene“, der nicht in der „Arena der herrschenden Klasse“ stattfindet, sondern unter dem freien Himmel der Geschichte jederzeit dazu ansetzt, das Kontinuum der Geschichte aufzusprengen.33 Wie bei Lefebvre bleiben bei Benjamin die Dimensionen der geschichtlichen Zeit – Vergangenheit, Gegenwart, Zukunft – miteinander verbunden und erhalten. Dient die Verschränkung der Zeitebenen bei Lefebvre dazu, aus der Vergangenheit in einem permanenten Austausch mit der Gegenwart, einer ständigen Neu- und Weiterinterpretation, Rückschlüsse für die Zukunft zu gewinnen, geht Benjamin über diesen erkenntnistheoretischen Aspekt hinaus. Er will die Gegenwart ständig neu schaffen, das Vergangene immer wieder neu bewerten und auf den moralischen Prüfstand stellen. „Jeder Augenblick ist der des Gerichts über gewisse Augenblicke, die ihm vorangegangen sind.“34 Indem er die Menschen über die Geschichte richten lässt, distanziert Benjamin sich von Hegels Ansicht, die Geschichte richte über die Menschen. Eingedenken bedeutet nicht nur, die Begebenheiten der Vergangenheit im Gedächtnis zu bewahren. Sie sollen, im Sinne der jüdischen Kategorie des Zekher, in der gegenwärtigen Erfahrung reaktualisiert werden. Das Eingedenken vermag so zu „retten, was gescheitert ist“, „zu vollenden, was uns vorenthalten wurde“. Am Ende der Gedanken steht keine strategische Hypothese, an der es sich zu orientieren gilt, sondern die ständige Wachsamkeit gegenüber einer fehlgeleiteten, verhängnisvollen Entwicklung, die sich in der Geschichtsschreibung der Herrschenden als kontinuierlich darstellt, die „einen Kausalnexus von verschiedenen Momenten der Geschichte“ aufzeigt und sich „die Abfolge von Begebenheiten durch die Finger laufen“ lässt „wie einen Rosenkranz“.35 Es gibt kein Ziel, auf das sich die Menschheit unweigerlich zubewegt. Das Unweigerliche in der Entwicklung der Geschichte ist illusorisch oder fingiert. Wie

33 Vgl. Benjamin, Über den Begriff der Geschichte, 701. 34 Benjamin, 691–704. Über den Begriff der Geschichte, 1245. 35 Vgl. Benjamin, Über den Begriff der Geschichte, 704.

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Benjamin will Lefebvre die Geschichte in ihrer unheilvollen Entwicklung unterbrechen. Er sucht Momente in der Vergangenheit, die er für den gegenwärtigen Erkenntnisprozess nutzbar machen kann. Einer dieser konkreten Momente ist die Pariser Kommune von 1871. In La proclamation de la commune (1965) begibt sich Lefebvre auf eine Zeitreise. Anhand von Dokumenten und der progressivregressiv Methode ‚rekonstruiert‘ er minutiös die historischen Tage des Aufstands und stellt fest, dass aufgrund der Komplexität der Ereignisse nicht länger mit dem klassischen Schema der ‚marxistischen Analysen‘ („base économique structure sociale - superstructures idéologiques et institutionnelles“) gearbeitet werden kann.36 Ein Reduzieren auf die Produktionsverhältnisse allein vermag die unheilvolle Entwicklung nicht zu entschlüsseln. Ein „mélange de nécessité et de hasard, de déterminisme et de contingence, de prévisible et d’imprévu“37 hat aus der anfänglich ausgelassenen Festtagsstimmung der Pariser Kommune ein blutiges Drama werden lassen. Die in der Retrospektion auftauchenden, neuen Aspekte erhellen den historischen Prozess und geben Anleitung und Anregung für zukünftiges Handeln. Auf der Suche nach Elementen, die verbinden und gleichzeitig dazu geeignet sind, das verheerende Kontinuum der Geschichte zu durchbrechen, entwickelt Lefebvre seine „Theorie der Momente“: Das Moment ist eine höhere Form der Wiederholung, des Neubeginns, des erneuten Auftauchens, des Wiedererkennens gewisser bestimmbarer Beziehungen zum Anderen (oder zum Nächsten) und zu sich selbst.38

Obwohl d a s Moment sich als Kategorie jeder Fixierung entzieht – es taucht in Lefebvres Schriften immer wieder auf, ohne konkret greifbar zu werden –, hat es etwas Geschichte-und-Menschen-Verbindendes. Es begleitet die Individuen in diversen Formen durch die Zeit, erlaubt ihnen, miteinander zu kommunizieren und die Geschichte als gemeinsame zu erkennen. Dieses Etwas ‚definiert‘ das Moment.39 Das Moment beinhaltet die Wiederholung und den Neubeginn. Es erlaubt, sich zum anderen und zu sich selbst immer wieder neu zu definieren.40 Steht der Begriff der durée (Dauer) bei Bergson für einen kontinuierlichen Prozess der Kumulation

36 Lefebvre, Henri. La proclamation de la Commune. Paris: Gallimard, 1965, 30. 37 Lefebvre, La proclamation de la Commune, 11. 38 Lefebvre, Kritik des Alltagslebens. Bd. III: Grundrisse einer Soziologie der Alltäglichkeit. München: Hanser, 1975, 600. 39 Vgl. Lefebvre, Kritik des Alltagslebens. Bd. III, 598. 40 Vgl. Lefebvre, Kritik des Alltagslebens. Bd. III, 600.

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von Erlebtem im Bewusstsein, erkennt Lefebvre in diesem Bewusstseinsstrom keinen geradlinig linear verlaufenden Prozess. In ihm gibt es eine Fülle von selbstständigen Zeitspannen, den Momenten, die richtungsverändernd wirken können.41 Die Eigenschaften dieser unzähligen Momente sind komplex und jeweiligen Begrifflichkeiten zuzuordnen, die persönliche und gesellschaftliche Erfahrungen und Zustände in der Zeit wiedergeben. Ein Moment, das neben dem Spiel, der Poesie, der Kunst und dem Traum, in Lefebvres Schriften immer wieder auftaucht, ist die Liebe. In ihr erkennt er die Voraussetzung für menschliches Leben und Überleben. Sie ist „Modalität der Präsenz (des ‚Daseins‘ für sich, für andere und für die ‚Welt‘)“ und „Kreation (von Präsenz, von Freude, Lust oder Schmerz oder allem zugleich)“.42 Je n’écrirai pas en soupirant‚ ‚l’amour est une passion‘; ni les yeux baissés: ‚l’amour est un plaisir‘; ni les yeux au ciel: ‚l’amour est une joie‘, ni en rougissant: ‚l’amour est une folie‘. Je dirai simplement: ‚L’amour est un moment‘.43

Als Moment ist die Liebe jeder Ordnung widerspenstig, den Auflagen einer homogenisierenden und reduzierenden Gesellschaft entgegengesetzt. Die Liebe ist das Moment des nicht zu zügelnden Lebenstriebes, das unbändige Feuer des Lebens immer wieder neu entfachend. Es ist dieses romantische, lebenserhaltende Moment, das Lefebvre in seinem Brief an Octavio Paz am Eingang von La présence et l’absence zitiert und zum Geheimnis der menschlichen Wiederauferstehung (résurrection) macht: Pour la première fois apparaît au fil de ces réflexions le mot présence et le mot amour; ils ont été la semence de l’Occident, l’origine de notre art et de notre poésie. En eux se trouve le secret de notre résurrection. D’accord Octavio Paz.44

Die Liebe als jenes entscheidende Moment vermag nach Lefebvre die eigene und die allgemeine Geschichte in eine andere Richtung lenken. Ihre zeitlose Kraft 41 Vgl. Lefebvre, Henri. La somme et le reste. Paris: Anthropos/Economica, 2009, 226. 42 Vgl. Lefebvre, Metaphilosophie, 338. 43 Lefebvre, La somme et le reste, 335. „Ich werde nicht unter Seufzen schreiben, die Liebe ist eine Leidenschaft; noch mit gesenktem Blick: ‚Die Liebe ist ein Vergnügen‘; noch mit den Augen zum Himmel: ‚Die Liebe ist eine Freude‘, nicht indem ich erröte: ‚Die Liebe ist eine Verrücktheit‘. Ich werde einfach nur sagen: ‚Die Liebe ist ein Moment.‘“ (Übers. F.G.) 44 Lefebvre, La présence et l’absence, 11. „Zum ersten Mal erscheinen im Laufe dieser Überlegungen der Begriff Dasein und das Wort Liebe; sie waren die Saat des Westens, der Ursprung unserer Künste und unserer Poesie. In ihnen befindet sich das Geheimnis unserer Wiederauferstehung. Einverstanden Octavio Paz.“ (Übers. F.G.)

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schöpft sie aus der Tatsache, dass sie ein Residuum ist. Ein nichtreduzierbares Element, das, da in seinem Innersten nicht von der Abstraktion (Entfremdung) betroffen, es ermöglicht, sich „ein realeres und wahreres (universaleres) Universum“45 vorzustellen und zu schaffen. Residuen sind Spuren, Restbestände einer anderen, besseren Welt, die trotz aller Versuche der Nivellierung und der Homogenisierung das Andere, Ursprüngliche in sich tragen. Sie stehen den Fetischismen „der Ware und des Geldes, der Sprache und der Kommunikation“ gegenüber, „die mit beunruhigenden Zersetzungen und Zerstörungen Hand in Hand gehen“.46 In Baudelaires Gedicht „Correspondances“ erkennt Benjamin die nostalgische Rückbesinnung auf eine vie antérieure. Die Katastrophe, die in der aktuellen Situation empfunden wird, gewinnt durch die Erinnerung an ein vergangenes paradiesisches Zeitalter eine neue Dimension. Sie lenkt den Blick von den Ereignissen der Gegenwart in die Vergangenheit und erkennt in ihrer Gegenüberstellung die missgeleitete Entwicklung. Die correspondances als Residuen oder als Data der Vorgeschichte sind bei Walter Benjamin Data des Eingedenkens.47 Ein Eingedenken, das die Gegenwart als Jetztzeit begründet. In die Jetztzeit sind „Splitter der messianischen Zeit eingesprengt“,48 die blitzartig auftauchen und einen Bewusstseinsprozess einleiten können. Der Geschichtsschreibung der Herrschenden wird ein Hoffnungsfunken entrissen, der in der Vergangenheit eingeschlossen war. Es ist der politische Augenblick des Aufstandes, der Revolte der Unterdrückten. Der Kairos, den Benjamin metaphorisch in Anlehnung an die jüdische Tradition als den Augenblick beschreibt, in dem der Messias durch die kleine Pforte treten könnte. Er ist Hoffnung, Aufforderung und Utopie zugleich.49

4 Die offene Geschichte In Benjamins allegorischer Interpretation des Angelus Novus (1920) von Paul Klee ist der Fortschritt ein Sturm, der den Engel der Geschichte fortreißt von seinem Ursprung, dem Paradies. Sein Antlitz ist einer Vergangenheit zugewendet, die

45 Vgl. Lefebvre, Metaphilosophie, 18. 46 Vgl. Lefebvre, Metaphilosophie, 348 f. 47 Vgl. Benjamin, Walter. „Über einige Motive bei Baudelaire“ In: Gesammelte Schriften. Bd. I/2: Abhandlungen, Rolf Tiedemann und Hermann Schweppenhäuser (Hrsg.), 605–654. Frankfurt a.M.: Suhrkamp. 1980, 639. 48 Vgl. Benjamin, Über den Begriff der Geschichte, 704. 49 Vgl. Benjamin, Über den Begriff der Geschichte, 704.

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„unablässig Trümmer auf Trümmer häuft und sie ihm vor die Füße schleudert“. Der Sturm, der sich in seinen Flügeln verfangen hat, ist derart gewaltig, dass jeder Versuch zu verweilen, „die Toten zu wecken“, das, was in der Entwicklung falsch gelaufen ist, zu korrigieren, unmöglich scheint.50 Die Lokomotive der Geschichte, die sich auf der „Bahn des Fortschritts“ bewegt, rollt mit steigernder Geschwindigkeit geradewegs in den Abgrund, macht alles platt, was sich ihr in den Weg stellt: „Dass es ‚so weiter geht‘, ist die Katastrophe der Gegenwart. Der Begriff des Fortschritts selbst ist in der Idee der Katastrophe fundiert.“51 Es ist für Benjamin eine fundamentale, revolutionäre Arbeit, die „brennende Zündschnur“ – Metapher für die „kontinuierlich fortschreitende Katastrophe“52 – zu durchtrennen, „bevor der Funke an das Dynamit kommt“.53 In Lefebvres Metaphilosophie steht die Frage der Technik als Motor des Fortschritts in Verbindung mit Heideggers Prognose, die Technik trage zur „Verwüstung der Erde, dem Verschwinden der alten Götter, dem Sterben Gottes“ bei und führe in ein Reich der Mittelmäßigkeit. Lefebvre ergänzt, die Technik simuliere „mit ihren Mitteln, den Maschinen, das Leben und Denken“ und der Mensch, ähnlich dem Gott der Genesis, lasse „aus der Natur sein eigenes Abbild erstehen [...], das sich nun vor ihm aufrichtet“.54 Lefebvres Prophetie basierte auf der noch jungen Informationstechnik wie die Erfassung der Bevölkerung durch Lochkarten („les machines à traiter l’information“), die sich der empfindlichsten Energien der sozialen Praxis bemächtigen kann.55 L’informatique avec ces implications et les disciplines annexes ira-t-elle jusqu’à transformer les rapports sociaux de production, de reproduction et de domination? Voilà le problème.56

Im dritten Band der Critique de la vie quotidienne tritt das sich ankündigende Informationszeitalter (l’informationnel) stärker in den Fokus. Der „Agora

50 Benjamin, Über den Begriff der Geschichte, 697 f. 51 Benjamin, Aufzeichnungen und Materialien, 592. 52 Benjamin, Walter. „Zentralpark“ In: Gesammelte Schriften. Bd. I/2: Abhandlungen, Rolf Tiedemann und Hermann Schweppenhäuser (Hrsg.), 655–690. Frankfurt a.M.: Suhrkamp. 1980, 683. 53 Benjamin, Walter. „Einbahnstraße“ In: Gesammelte Schriften. Bd. IV/1: Kleine Prosa. Baudelaire-Übertragungen. Rolf Tiedemann und Herrmann Schweppenhäuser (Hrsg.), 83–148. Frankfurt a.M.: Suhrkamp, 1980, 122. 54 Lefebvre, Metaphilosophie, 147 f. 55 Vgl. Lefebvre, Henri. Le manifeste différentialiste. Paris: Gallimard. 1970, 99. 56 Lefebvre, Henri. Critique de la vie quotidienne. Bd. III. Paris: L’Arche Editeur. 1981, 136. „Geht die Informatik mit ihren Implikationen und ihr angegliederten Disziplinen so weit, dass sie die sozialen Verhältnisse von Produktion, Reproduktion und Herrschaft dominieren wird?“ (Übers. F.G.)

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electronique“ attestiert Lefebvre prophetisch eine Reduktion der Erkenntnis (connaissance) und der Spontaneität. Erkennen bedeutet nicht länger Konzepte entwickeln und anwenden, sondern Informationen empfangen und verwalten.57 Das Kreative und Produktive des Menschseins verliert sich zusehends in dem Abstrakten, nicht zu Kontrollierenden: Charakteristika des abstrakten, homologisierenden Raumes. L’informationnel pourrait bien parachever la destruction du sens, en remplaçant la valeur par le signe, la totalité par le combinatoire, la parole vivante par le message (en termes classiques: l’esprit par la lettre).58

Lefebvres Vorstellung vom revolutionären Potential, basierend auf dem idealisierten Bild vom totalen Menschen, der in engem Kontakt zum Rhythmus der Natur sich kreativ in das Alltagsleben einbringt, trifft am Ausgang des zwanzigsten Jahrhunderts auf den homo technicus (bzw. homo digitalicus). Mit Hilfe ‚technischer‘ Entwicklungen verabschiedet er sich nicht nur von tradierten ästhetischen Kategorien wie Raum und Zeit, sondern schlägt neue evolutionsspezifische Wege ein. Da die Dynamik irreversibel ist („impossible, impensable de revenir en arrière“59), erweitert Lefebvre seine strategische Hypothese einer vollkommen urbanisierten Welt, alle Möglichkeiten der Existenz zusammenführend, die vielfältigen Bedürfnisse in ein gemeinsames Zusammenleben integrierend, um die Dimension vom anderen Menschen, dessen sinnlichen Voraussetzungen sich veränderten Lebensumständen anpassen müssen. Die bevorstehende „lutte titanique“,60 die Schlacht der Giganten, wird zum showdown mit offenem Ausgang. Einerseits die Residuen, die nicht zu reduzierenden Originale („des résidus, des originalités irréductibles“61) als Restbestand und Basis einer ursprünglichen, besseren Welt, an denen der Mensch sich orientiert, um als Bestandteil der Natur nicht nur Produkte, sondern auch sich selbst zu

57 Vgl. Lefebvre, Critique de la vie quotidienne. Bd. III, 148. 58 Lefebvre, Critique de la vie quotidienne. Bd. III, 152. „Der Informationsinhalt könnte sehr wohl die Zerstörung des Sinns vollenden, indem sie den Wert durch das Symbol ersetzt, die Totalität durch das kombinatorisch Mögliche,* die lebendige Rede durch die Botschaft (in klassischer Terminologie: Der Verstand durch den Buchstaben.)“ (Übers. F.G.) * Das Substantiv combinatoire ist eigentlich weiblich („la“) und heißt übersetzt Kombinatorik, d.h. auf welche und auf wie viel verschiedene Arten gewisse Mengen von Dingen angeordnet und zusammengefasst werden können. 59 Lefebvre, Critique de la vie quotidienne. Bd III, 133. 60 Lefebvre, Le manifeste différentialiste, 129 f. 61 Lefebvre, Henri. La fin de l’histoire. Paris: Anthropos, 2001, 172.

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produzieren. Andererseits die homogenisierenden Kräfte in der Gesellschaft, die zunehmend auf die Möglichkeiten einer zerstörerischen Technik zurückgreifen. Wie bei Benjamin folgt auch Lefebvres Interpretation des historischen Materialismus weder der von Marx postulierten Geschichte als eine Geschichte von Klassenkämpfen, noch ist sie durchdrungen von dem Gedanken der sich selbst erfüllenden Vernunft. Für beide gilt die Aufforderung nach dem unmittelbaren Ausstieg aus einem in die Katastrophe führenden Geschichtsverlauf. Sich der Komplexität eines derartigen Ausstieges bewusst, versucht Lefebvre den Spagat zwischen Hegel, Marx und Nietzsche: L’hypothèse d’une sortie de l’histoire [...] comporte un dépassement à concevoir en fonction du dépassment hégelien et marxiste (Aufheben) mais aussi du dépassement nietzschéen (Überwinden – surmonter).62

Um sich der Gefahren der Gegenwart gewahr zu werden, bezieht Walter Benjamin verstärkt die Vergangenheit in sein Denken ein. Nichts in der Geschichtsschreibung steht fest oder ist definitiv. Das geschehene Unrecht war weder unausweichlich noch notwendig. Indem Benjamin der Opfer der Geschichte (ein)gedenkt, ‚entlockt‘ er ihnen den heiligen Funken der Kabbala, die winzigen Spuren des göttlichen Lichts, die bei dem Bruch der Gefäße zusammen mit den Scherben über die ganze Welt verstreut wurden und darauf warten heimgeführt zu werden. Erst dann hat sich eine erlöste Menschheit ihre Gegenwart zu eigen gemacht. In einer tief gespaltenen und zum Teil prekären gesellschaftlichen Lage, wie sie Lefebvre und Benjamin zu unterschiedlichen Zeitpunkten und unter unterschiedlichen Voraussetzungen erleben, sind die utopischen Gedanken von Charles Fourier ein gemeinsamer Ausgangspunkt. Fouriers société du désir – sie hebt neben der Gleichstellung der Frau, der Auflösung tradierter Familien- und Gesellschaftsstrukturen vor allem die zentrale Bedeutung des Eros hervor – beeinflusst Lefebvre ebenso wie die utopische Vision der phalanstères, Vorbilder für die revolutionären Architekturmodelle insbesondere der späten fünfziger und frühen sechziger Jahre des zwanzigsten Jahrhunderts. Der unitäre Urbanismus, die Einheit von Lebensweise und Lebensumfeld, strebt die totale Einheit der menschlichen Umwelt an. Die Trennung von Arbeit, Freizeit und Privatleben sollen aufgelöst, Dynamik und Wandlungsfähigkeit der Stagnation und Vereinheitlichung des Alltags entgegengesetzt werden. Das Ziel der Situationisten um Guy Debord

62 Lefebvre, La fin de l’histoire, 9. „Die Hypothese von dem Ausstieg aus der Geschichte (...) beinhaltet ein Überwinden im Sinne von Aufheben bei Hegel und Marx, aber auch ein Überwinden im Sinne Nietzsches (überwinden – hinter sich lassen, übersteigen).“ (Übers. F.G.)

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entspricht Lefebvres Vorstellung, eine Lebensweise zu schaffen, in der Kunst, Politik und Alltagspraxis in einer Einheit zusammenzufinden. Die endlos transformierbare Stadt soll die technischen Möglichkeiten der jeweiligen Zeit miteinbeziehen, sie aber aus dem Einflussbereich der herrschenden, utilitaristischen Weltsicht lösen, zweckentfremden, umfunktionieren. Dieser détournement bietet die Möglichkeit, die Geschichte der Herrschenden ‚umzuleiten‘, um sie so zu unterbrechen. Das Motiv des Phantastischen und der Phantasmagorie stellt für Benjamin eine Verbindung zwischen der „Urgeschichte“ der Menschheit und dem Traum des Möglichen her. In der ‚Erinnerung‘ an das verlorene Paradies liegt das revolutionäre Potential, den mythischen Bann der Passagen zu sprengen und aus dem lähmenden Traum der Gegenwart zu erwachen. Die phalanstères sind für Benjamin aber auch Metapher für eine ‚technische‘ Weiterentwicklung des Menschen mit dem utopischen Ziel, wie Fische im Wasser zu leben und wie Vögel in der Luft zu fliegen [...] und mindestens ein Alter von 144 Jahren [zu] erreichen [...], dass eine Zeit kommen werde, in welcher Orangen in Sibirien blühen und die gefährlichsten Tiere durch ihre Gegensätze werden ersetzt werden.63

Die These, Fortschritt führe die Menschheit unweigerlich in die Katastrophe, gilt demnach auch für Benjamin nicht blank. Sein Kulturpessimismus unterscheidet zwischen wissenschaftlichem und technischem Fortschritt und dem Fortschreiten einer fehlgeleitenden, unheilvollen Geschichte, die sich die Errungenschaften des Fortschritts zu Eigen macht. Das Schaffen einer zweiten „verbesserten Natur“ mit Hilfe einer „nicht mehr ausgebeuteten Arbeit“64 beinhaltet nach wie vor den Anspruch der Naturbeherrschung durch den Menschen. „‚Non! Personne ne sait ni detient le secret de l’avenir‘.“ Nur ein flüchtiger Augenaufschlag ist möglich. Den Horizont zu erhellen, die Schleier zu lüften, neue Wege zu öffnen ist allein durch revolutionäres Handeln möglich, zitiert Benjamin im Passagenwerk den französischen Revolutionär und Philosophen Auguste Blanqui (1805–1881).65 Ausgangspunkt für den revolutionären Impetus ist die geistige Leere – le vide spirituel du moment, le mal de la jeunesse, le mal de vivre66 – die annähernd Baudelaires spleen, jenem romantischen Lebensgefühl 63 Benjamin, Walter. „Aufzeichnungen und Materialien [Fortsetzung]“ In: Gesammelte Schriften. Bd. V/2: Das Passagen-Werk, Rolf Tiedemann und Hermann Schweppenhäuser (Hrsg.), 655–990. Frankfurt a.M.: Suhrkamp 1991, 766. 64 Benjamin, Aufzeichnungen und Materialien, 456. 65 Vgl. Benjamin, Aufzeichnungen und Materialien [Fortsetzung], 894. 66 Vgl. Lefebvre, Henri. Vers un romantisme révolutionnaire, Paris: Nouvelles Éditions Lignes, 2011, 55.

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(une manière de sentir), geprägt von der Sehnsucht nach dem Unendlichen (aspiration vers l’infini), entspricht. Der romantische Revolutionär teilt aber nicht unabdingbar Baudelaires Abneigung gegenüber Fortschritt und Technik. Der spleen als „das Gefühl, das der Katastrophe in Permanenz entspricht“67 drängt auf ein Zusammenführen des „Nüchternen und des Romantischen“,68 auf eine Analyse der Gegenwart mit dem „romantischen Wille zur Schönheit, dem romantischen Wille zur Wahrheit, dem romantischen Wille zur Tat“.69 „L’homme en proie du possible“ charakterisiert Lefebvre den romantischen Revolutionär, auf den die Hoffnungslosigkeit nicht länger lähmend (maladie de langueur) wirkt. Sie führt zu Wut, Zorn und Raserei, formuliert er am Ende seines kleines Textes Vers un romantisme révolutionnaire (1957) und betont fast schon trotzig: „Cependant ‚nous‘ affirmons la beauté et la grandeur intrinsèque de la vie moderne, en tant qu’instables, problématiques et déchirés entre le passé et l’avenir.“70

Literatur Benjamin, Walter. „Über einige Motive bei Baudelaire“ In: Gesammelte Schriften. Bd. I/2: Abhandlungen, Rolf Tiedemann und Hermann Schweppenhäuser (Hrsg.), 605–654. Frankfurt a.M.: Suhrkamp, 1980. Benjamin, Walter. „Zentralpark“ In: Gesammelte Schriften. Bd. I/2: Abhandlungen, Rolf Tiedemann und Hermann Schweppenhäuser (Hrsg.), 655–690. Frankfurt a.M.: Suhrkamp, 1980. Benjamin, Walter. „Über den Begriff der Geschichte“ In: Gesammelte Schriften. Bd. I/2: Abhandlungen, Rolf Tiedemann und Hermann Schweppenhäuser (Hrsg.), 691–704. Frankfurt a.M.: Suhrkamp, 1980. Benjamin, Walter. „691 – 704. Über den Begriff der Geschichte“ In: Gesammelte Schriften. Bd. I/3: Anmerkungen der Herausgeber, Rolf Tiedemann und Hermann Schweppenhäuser (Hrsg.), 1223–1266. Frankfurt a.M.: Suhrkamp 1991. Benjamin, Walter. „Romantik“ In: Gesammelte Schriften. Bd. II/1: Aufsätze. Essays. Vorträge, Rolf Tiedemann und Hermann Schweppenhäuser (Hrsg.), 42–46. Frankfurt a.M.: Suhrkamp, 1980. Benjamin, Walter. „Einbahnstraße“ In: Gesammelte Schriften. Bd. IV/1: Kleine Prosa. Baudelaire-Übertragungen, Rolf Tiedemann und Hermann Schweppenhäuser (Hrsg.), 83–148. Frankfurt a.M.: Suhrkamp, 1980. Benjamin, Walter. „Paris, Capitale du XIXème siècle“. In: Gesammelte Schriften. Bd. V/1: Das Passagen-Werk, Rolf Tiedemann und Hermann Schweppenhäuser (Hrsg.), 60–78. Frankfurt a.M.: Suhrkamp, 1991.

67 Benjamin, Aufzeichnungen und Materialien, 437 und Zentralpark, 660. 68 Benjamin, Walter. „Romantik“ In: Gesammelte Schriften. Bd. II/1: Aufsätze. Essays. Vorträge, Rolf Tiedemann und Hermann Schweppenhäuser (Hrsg.), 42–46. Frankfurt a.M.: Suhrkamp, 1980, 46. 69 Walter Benjamin, Romantik, 46. 70 Lefebvre, Vers un romantisme révolutionnaire, 69.

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Benjamin, Walter. „Aufzeichnungen und Materialien“ In: Gesammelte Schriften. Bd. V/1: Das Passagen-Werk, Rolf Tiedemann und Hermann Schweppenhäuser (Hrsg.), 79–654. Frankfurt a.M.: Suhrkamp, 1991. Benjamin, Walter. „Aufzeichnungen und Materialien [Fortsetzung]“ In: Gesammelte Schriften. Bd. V/2: Das Passagen-Werk, Rolf Tiedemann und Hermann Schweppenhäuser (Hrsg.), 655–990. Frankfurt a.M.: Suhrkamp 1991. Benjamin, Walter. „Erste Notizen: Pariser Passagen I“ In: Gesammelte Schriften. Bd. V/2: Das Passagen-Werk, Rolf Tiedemann und Hermann Schweppenhäuser (Hrsg.), 991–1038. Frankfurt a.M.: Suhrkamp, 1991. Benjamin, Walter. „Pariser Passagen II“ In: Gesammelte Schriften. Bd. V/2: Das PassagenWerk, Rolf Tiedemann und Hermann Schweppenhäuser (Hrsg.), 1044–1059. Frankfurt a.M.: Suhrkamp, 1991. Bloch, Ernst. Geist der Utopie. Frankfurt a.M.: Suhrkamp, 1971. Bloch, Ernst. Das Prinzip Hoffnung. Frankfurt a.M.: Suhrkamp, 1985. Debord, Guy. „Rapport sur la construction des situations“ In: Œuvres, Jean-Louis Rançon (Hrsg.), 309–327. Paris: Gallimard, 2006. Lefebvre, Henri. La proclamation de la Commune. Paris: Gallimard, 1965. Lefebvre, Henri. Le manifeste différentialiste. Paris: Gallimard, 1970. Lefebvre, Henri. Die Zukunft des Kapitalismus. München: Paul List Verlag, 1974. Lefebvre, Henri. Metaphilosophie. Prolegomena. Frankfurt a.M.: Suhrkamp, 1975. Lefebvre, Henri. La présence et l’absence. Contribution à la théorie des représentations. Paris: Casterman, 1980. Lefebvre, Henri. Critique de la vie quotidienne. Bd. III. Paris: L’Arche Editeur, 1981. Lefebvre, Henri. Logique formelle, logique dialectique. Paris: Éditions sociales, 1982. Lefebvre, Henri. Qu’est-ce que penser? Paris: Publisud, 1985. Lefebvre, Henri. Kritik des Alltagslebens. Frankfurt a.M.: Fischer, 1987. Lefebvre, Kritik des Alltagslebens. Bd. III: Grundrisse einer Soziologie der Alltäglichkeit. München: Hanser, 1975. Lefebvre, Henri. Éléments de rythmanalyse. Introduction à la connaissance des rythmes. Paris: Éditions Syllepse, 1992. Lefebvre, Henri. La production de l’espace. Paris: Anthropos, 2000 [1974]. Lefebvre, Henri. La fin de l’histoire. Paris: Anthropos, 2001. Lefebvre Henri, La somme et le reste. Paris: Anthropos, 2009. Lefebvre, Henri. Vers un romantisme révolutionnaire, Rémi und Charlotte Hess (Hrsg.). Paris: Nouvelles Éditions Lignes, 2011.

Chris O’Kane

Henri Lefebvre and the Critical Theory of Society Introduction Despite the broad affinities attested to by their place in the canonical works on Western Marxism and Hegelian Marxism,1 the more precise parallels between Henri Lefebvre, Theodor W. Adorno and Adornian critical social theory2 remain largely unexplored. Lefebvre and Adorno’s iconic roles in these historical narratives may have something to do with this lack of close comparison. For whilst Lefebvre is often presented as “the leading prophet of alienation”3 an ever-optimistic romantic humanist who pointed to the myriad ways of creatively resisting the alienating stultification of everyday life in the lead up to and after May 1968. Adorno is likewise often portrayed as an incorrigibly stultified mandarin whose pessimism ultimately undermined his ability to see the resistance to the capitalist culture industry and instrumental reason emerging at the same point in time, thus undermining his own criticality. Although these characterizations flirt with cliché, they might, when coupled with other factors contributing to the reception of these two figures such as the onus on valorising resistance in cultural studies or the confinement of more sophisticated recent interpretations of Lefebvre to geography4 − inform the conclusion that Lefebvre and Adorno have little more in common than their Western Hegelian Marxism. This may be why, in spite of the renewed interest in Lefebvre and Adorno’s interpretation of Marx’s critique of

1 See, for instance, Anderson, Perry. Considerations on Western Marxism. London: Verso, 1979 and Jay, Martin. Marxism and Totality: The Adventures of a Concept from Lukács to Habermas. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1986. 2 I use the term Adornian critical theory to refer to the subterranean lineage of critical theorists, in this case Alfred Schmidt and Open Marxism, who sought to further develop Adorno’s critical theory of society with especial focus on the relationship between the former and the critique of political economy. 3 Merrifield, Andrew. Henri Lefebvre: A Critical Introduction. London: Routledge, 2006, XXXII. 4 See Charnock, Greig. “Challenging New State Spatialities? The Open Marxism of Henri Lefebvre” Antipode 42:5 (2010): 1279–1303 and Wilson, Japhy. “‘The Devastating Conquest of the Lived by the Conceived’: The Concept of Abstract Space in the Work of Henri Lefebvre” Space and Culture 16:3 (2013): 364–380. https://doi.org/10.1515/9783110494983-004

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political economy,5 recent work that touches upon Adorno and Lefebvre’s affinities continue to do some from the perspective of Western Marxism; pointing to the broad similarities between the “elaboration and application of the ideas of commodification and alienation” in their “analyses of modern capitalist society”.6 Yet such an approach ignores not only some instances of overlap between Lefebvre, the early Frankfurt School and its Adornian lineage,7 but the more precise affinities Alfred Schmidt and Greig Charnock have pointed to between Adornian critical theory and Lefebvre’s critical Marxism, let alone the productive relevance these affinities hold for contemporary critical theory. In what follows, I provide a new perspective on Henri Lefebvre’s social theory by examining his work in comparison to Adorno and Adornian critical social theory, ultimately pointing to their contemporary relevance for the critical theory of society. To do so, I first provide an overview of how Adorno’s critical social theory utilizes Marx’s critique of fetishism to articulate a critique of the social constitution and constituent autonomous supraindividual social domination of contemporary capitalist society in his negative anthropological critique of the negative totality of capitalist society. I then turn to reconstructing Lefebvre’s interpretation of Marx and the role the former plays in his theory of social space. Here I argue that Lefebvre mirrors Adorno’s critical theory of society; using his interpretation of Marx’s critique of fetishism to critique the constitution and constituent domination of capitalist society. But as I also demonstrate, in contrast to Adorno’s negative anthropology, Lefebvre’s critique of capitalist society proceeds from the basis of a humanism that constantly opposes the extent of domination to its inherently humane content. This leads me to show how Lefebvre’s interpretation of Marx serves as the basis for his critique of social space, where I also focus on

5 See Stanek, Łukasz. Henri Lefebvre on Space: Architecture, Urban Research, and the Production of Theory. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2011; Braunstein, Dirk. Adornos Kritik der politischen Ökonomie. Bielefeld, Transcript 2011; Bonefeld, Werner. Critical Theory and the Critique of Political Economy. London: Bloomsbury, 2014; Lotz, Christian. The Capitalist Schema: Time, Money, and the Culture of Abstraction. Lanham MD: Lexington Books, 2014. 6 Dahms, Harry. “How Social Science is Impossible Without Critical Theory” In: No Social Science Without Critical Theory, Harry Dahms (ed.), 249–305. Bingley: Emerald Publishing Limited, 2008, 159. 7 For instance Norman Guterman, Lefebvre’s associate and French co-translator of the Economic and Philosophical Manuscripts of 1844, later worked with the Institute for Social Research in New York City, co-authoring Prophets of Deceit with Leo Lowenthal. As Stuart Elden also points out Horkheimer, at least, mentions reading Lefebvre in a letter to Guterman from 25 February 1947. In addition, Alfred Schmidt not only translated Dialectical Materialism into German, but also included an article of Lefebvre’s in his edited collection commemorating the 150th anniversary of Capital. Finally, Adorno repeatedly comes up in Lefebvre’s writings from the 1960s on.

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how Lefebvre ties his humanist interpretation of Marx to a romantic humanist and expansive conception of alienation that problematically conflates a myriad of quantitative types of domination whilst promoting an eclectic array of humane types of resistance. Following this reconstruction, I draw on Alfred Schmidt and Greig Charnock’s work on Lefebvre and Adornian critical theory, along with my own comparative reconstruction, to point the contemporary relevance of a Lefebvrian and Adornian infused critique of contemporary capitalist society.

1 Adorno’s Critical Theory of Society Although it is often held that following Dialectic of Enlightenment Theodor W. Adorno’s critical theory amounted to a totalizing transhistorical critique of instrumental reason,8 in this section I show that the critical theory of society Adorno formulated in the 1960s drew on Marx’s critique of fetishism to construe the critical theory of society as a critique of the social constitution and constituent autonomous inverted supraindividual social domination of the negative totality of capitalist society, which compels individuals to reproduce the very relations of antagonism that maim them, thus perpetuating their inhumanity.9 Adorno’s introduction to The Positivist Dispute in German Sociology provides a cogent outline of this critical theory of society and its negative anthropology. According to Adorno, capitalist society is constitutive of a “society based on domination” which “has not simply robbed itself and human beings – its compulsory members – of […] dignity, but rather it has never permitted them to become the emancipated beings who, in Kant’s theory, have a right to dignity”. Consequently, such a society “as a relationship between human beings” mediated by the social dynamic of capital accumulation “is just as much founded in them as it comprehends and constitutes them”. Yet, since “included in the objective law-like nature

8 For the classic formulation of this interpretation see Habermas, Jürgen and Thomas Y. Levin. “The Entwinement of Myth and Enlightenment: Re-Reading Dialectic of Enlightenment” New German Critique 26 (1982): 13–30. For a recent characterization that recapitulates it see Chari, Anita. The Political Economy of the Senses. New York: Columbia, 2016. 9 For a more in depth reconstruction of the relationship between the late Adorno’s interpretation of Marx and his critical theory of society see O’Kane, Chris. “Introduction to Theodor W. Adorno on Marx and the Basic Concepts of Sociological Theory” Historical Materialism [forthcoming]. For an argument that further develops this interpretation of Adorno’s late critical theory in contrast to the predominant account of the development of Adorno’s thought, see O’Kane, Chris “Society Maintains Itself Despite all the Catastrophes That May Eventuate: Critical Theory, Negative Totality, and Crisis” Constellations 25:2 (2018): 287–301.

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of society is its contradictory character, and ultimately its irrationality, it is the task of social theory to reflect upon this too and, if possible, to reveal its origins”.10 As this passage indicates Adorno’s critical theory of society is thus premised on his account of the dominating law-like nature of “exchange.” More specifically it entails how Adorno interprets Marx’s critique of fetishism − wherein the “definite social relation between men themselves […] assumes […] the phantasmagoric form of a relation between things”11 constituent of a supraindividual and inverted form of social domination in which individuals “own movement within society has for them the form of a movement made by things, and these things, far from being under their control, in fact control them”12 as a critical theory of social constitution and social domination. This is because, in Adorno’s view, the late, rather than the early, Marx’s critique of political economy delineates how capitalist society dominates external nature and internal human nature in a historically-specific way, insofar as the social form of the metabolic interaction with the former entails class relations of production for profit.13 Moreover, since this process occurs through ‘exchange’ in

10 Adorno, Theodor W. The Positivist Dispute in German Sociology. London: Ashgate Pub Co, 1981, 41 f. 11 Marx, Karl. Capital. Volume I: A Critique of Political Economy, Ben Fowkes (trans.). London: Penguin Classics, 1992, 165. 12 Marx, Capital. Volume I, 167 f. 13 For Adorno’s critique of the early Marx and the Marxist humanist interpretation of alienation see Adorno, Theodor. W. The Jargon of Authenticity. London: Routledge, 2002, 61–63; and “Dasein in Itself Ontological” In: Negative Dialektik. Frankfurt a.M.: Suhrkamp, 1997. In the following, I  will cite the English version: Negative Dialectics, Dennis Redmond (trans.). http://members. efn.org/~dredmond/ndtrans.html (05/07/18). Against Personalism. (As Redmond’s translation is web based, I will provide the name of the aphorism in lieu of a page number in what follows.) For his negative anthropology in conjunction with the critique of political economy see “The subject is the lie, because it denies its own objective determinations for the sake of the unconditionality of its own domination; the subject would be only what detached itself from such lies, what had thrown off, out of its own power, which it owes to identity, its shell. The ideological bad state of affairs of the person is immanently criticizable. What is substantial, which according to that ideology would lend the person their dignity, does not exist. Human beings are above all, and without exception, not yet themselves. Their possibility is justifiably to be thought under the concept of the self, and it stands polemically against the reality of the self. This is not the least reason that the talk of self- alienation is untenable. It has, in spite of its better Hegelian and Marxist* days, or for their sake, succumbed to apologetics, because it gives us to understand with a fatherly mien that human beings would have fallen from an existent-in-itself, which it always was, while they have never been such and thus have nothing to hope from recourse to its archai [Greek: ancient, old] except submission to authority, precisely what is alien to them. That this concept no longer figures in the Marxist Capital, is conditioned not only by the economic thematics of the work but makes philosophical sense.”

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two ways – as the means by which (1) workers are compensated for selling their labour power and (2) profit is obtained when commodities are sold on the market – exchange is not only central to this metabolic process, but that in mediating it, exchange comes to possess socially objective autonomous and supraindividual fetishistic properties, compelling individuals to reproduce the very relations that grant it these properties. For, on one side of the class relation workers must sell their labour power in order for them to survive, whilst on the other, capitalists must exploit workers to generate profits so that they remain capitalists. Consequently, this very same process of reproduction, which imbues exchange with its constituent fetish characteristic properties, maims the individuals within the antagonistic relations that perpetuate it. Finally, this process as a whole simultaneously mystifies its origins: for the autonomous and law-like properties of exchange disguise the social relations that constitute and reproduce these properties, leading to the perception that they are transhistorical and non-exploitative laws of nature.14 Accordingly, Adorno’s interpretation of Marx’s critique of fetishism, is ‘the key’ to Adorno’s critical account of the social constitution and constituent domination of social totality.15 As Hans-Georg Backhaus points out,16 such an explanation is conveyed in Adorno’s idea that society is subject and object. For the class relation of production for profit constitutes exchange as a “mediating conceptuality,” which in the fetish-form of the exchange abstraction, “provides the objectivity valid model for all essential social events”,17 inverting to simultaneously shape the individuals within these relations, perpetuating their inhumanity. This means that in capitalist society, “[t]he law which determines how the fatality of mankind unfolds itself is the law of exchange”.18 Yet, in contrast to post-Habermasian “critical theorists”, Adorno does not view the economy as a differentiated sphere of society. Rather by bringing together Hegel’s notion of totality and the concept with his interpretation of the fetishistic-form of the exchange abstraction, he holds that ultimately all spheres of modern life are implicated in this dynamic of the dominative reproduction of negative totality; for virtually everything from the activity of bureaucrats (who assure the stability of these relations) to the

14 See Adorno, Positivist Dispute and Adorno, Theodor W. “On Marx and the Basic Concepts of Sociological Theory” In: Historical Materialism, Verena Erlenbusch and Chris O’Kane (trans.) [forthcoming]. 15 Adorno, On Marx. 16 See Backhaus, Hans Georg. “Between Philosophy and Science: Marxian Social Economy as Critical Theory” In: Open Marxism, Werner Bonefeld et al. (ed.), 54–92. London: Pluto, 1992. 17 Adorno, Positivist Dispute, 79. 18 Adorno, Positivist Dispute, 80.

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minima moralia of everyday life in which our reliance on exchange is reinforced, are mediated by the fetishistic conceptuality of exchange. Thus: [T]he economic process, which reduces individual interests to the common denominator of a totality, which remains negative, because it distances itself by means of its constitutive abstraction from the individual interests, out of which it is nevertheless simultaneously composed. The universality, which reproduces the preservation of life, simultaneously endangers it, on constantly more threatening levels. The violence of the self-realizing universal is not, as Hegel thought, identical to the essence of individuals, but always also contrary. They are not merely character-masks, agents of value, in some presumed special sphere of the economy. Even where they think they have escaped the primacy of the economy, all the way down to their psychology, the maison tolère, [French: universal home] of what is unknowably individual, they react under the compulsion of the generality; the more identical they are with it, the more un-identical they are with it in turn as defenceless followers. What is expressed in the individuals themselves, is that the whole preserves itself along with them only by and through the antagonism.19

However, following Marx, the critical element of this social theory, does not accept the law-like nature of this dynamic nor, despite its maiming of human subjectivity, the inevitable relapse into barbarism. Rather it points out its contradictory character, and its ultimate irrationality which lies behind the objectively illusory appearance of exchange whilst pointing to its origins; the antagonistic class relations constitutive of the capitalistic form of the metabolic relation with nature. In so doing, critical theory moves to demystify and negate these relations, the fetishistic exchange dynamic that issues from and reproduces them and their crisis prone and miserable persistence. In sum, Adorno’s critical theory of society draws on his interpretation of Marx’s critique of fetishism in order to critique the social constitution and constituent dynamic of a society dominated by the supraindividual autonomous and inverted social objectivity of the fetishistic exchange dynamic which maims individuals, reducing them to character masks. Read in tandem with Adorno’s later remarks on natural history, his critical theory traces the development of human history as natural historical negative anthropology wherein the domination of external nature has culminated in the domination of humanity’s internal nature, preventing its realization. The critical theory of society, in deciphering the human relations that perpetuate this negative totality, aims to negate the dominative relationship between the former and the latter, instituting a society of non-coercive metabolic and interpersonal relations, consisting in freedom and human flourishing.

19 Adorno, Negative Dialectics, “Law and Fairness”.

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2 Lefebvre’s Critical Theory of Society Now that have I shown how Adorno’s critical theory of society uses Marx’s critique of fetishism, I turn to reconstructing Lefebvre’s social theory in this light. As I will show, Lefebvre mirrors Adorno’s critical theory of society insofar as he draws on Marx’s critique of fetishism to critique the constitution and constituent domination of capitalist society. Yet, as I will also show, rather than Adorno’s notion of negative anthropology and negative totality, Lefebvre does so in conjunction with a romantic humanism that is ultimately wedded to an expansive notion of alienation that constantly opposes the extent of domination to its inherently human content.20 To demonstrate this I first reconstruct Lefebvre’s interpretation of Marx and then turn to demonstrating how the former is drawn on in Lefebvre’s critique of abstract space.21 Lefebvre’s interpretation of Marx, and by extension his critical social theory, centers on his interpretation of the relationship between Hegel and Marx. This relationship is designated as “dialectical” by Lefebvre. In making this claim Lefebvre states that Marx “continues” and “breaks,” “extends” and ”transforms” the Hegelian method. This is particularly the case for logic and dialectics and “certain concepts (totality, negativity, alienation)”.22 Consequently, the theories

20 As I discuss in more detail in O’Kane, Chris. “Fetishistic Concrete Abstraction, Social Constitution and Social Domination in Henri Lefebvre’s Writings on Everyday Life, Cities and Space” Capital & Class, 42:2 (2018), 253–271. Lefebvre’s expansive notion of alienation refers to the instances when he uses the theory to characterize a range of inhumane types of domination that characterize the entirety of human history as well as the modern day. In these instances, this notion of alienation is contrasted with an eclectic array of “human” qualities, that draw on the young Marx as well as Heidegger, Nietzsche and Rabelais; amounting to a romantic humanism. This sets up a transhistorical and dualistic opposition between alienated quantity and humane quality. Yet, this opposition equates the Marxian categories of alienation, fetishism and reification and conflates them with different types of alienation that are not self-evidently and inherently dominating while opposing them to an eclectic array of qualitative acts that are likewise treated as interchangeable. Thus, for instance, formal logic, mathematics, reading the newspaper, watching television and the logic of the commodity-form are treated as equivalent types of alienated domination. Conversely, on the qualitative side, phenomena as disparate as festivals, artistic creativity, holidays, LSD (Lysergic acid diethylamide), debauchery and grass-roots democracy are seen as equivalent and inherently oppositional to this broad notion of domination. In The Production of Space, as I indicate below, such a notion of alienation is grounded in Lefebvre’s triadic dialectic, whilst his notion of romantic humanism is reflected in the wide array of oppositions he points to. 21 The next two sections on Lefebvre draw on O’Kane, Fetishistic. 22 Lefebvre, Henri. Dialectical Materialism. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2009, 17.

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of praxis and alienation are central to Lefebvre’s interpretation of Marx. Praxis, conceived as a broad category entailing the “dialectical relation between man and nature, consciousness and thing”23 serves as Lefebvre’s underlying theory of the objective/subjective constitution of society. Drawing on the terminology Marx uses when defining commodity fetishism, the “[f]undamental idea” of this conception of praxis is that “[s]ocial relationships […] constitute the core of the social whole”. Lefebvre’s conception of social constitution is thus based on this conception of social praxis. Alienation, in turn, articulates the constituent properties of all heretofore societies constituted by social praxis. Lefebvre thus conceives of alienation as “the form taken by dialectical necessity in human becoming” so that “human history consists in thirty centuries of human alienation”.24 In Lefebvre’s interpretation, Marx’s theory of social domination is thus based on this transhistorical conception of alienation. Yet in his critique of capitalist society, Lefebvre characterises this transhistorical theory of domination by drawing on Marx’s critique of fetishism wherein “social objects become things, fetishes, which turn upon him”.25 Fetishism, in Lefebvre’s view, thus provides the exemplary account of how praxis constitutes social forms of domination: “[t]he economic theory of Fetishism takes up again, raises to a higher level and makes explicit the philosophical theory of alienation and the ‘reification’ of the individual”.26 In this purview, social praxis, consisting of “social reality, i.e. interacting human individuals and groups”, creates “appearances which are something more and else than mere illusions”27 what Lefebvre calls “concrete abstractions”.28 The latter are thus indicative of the “practical power” of the economic entities of money and commodities and capital, which “have a concrete, objective reality: historically (as moments of the social reality) and actually (as elements of the social objectivity)”.29 Lefebvre’s exposition of how the commodity is created by social relations brings these points together. This discussion also indicates how the commodity possesses the properties of social domination by inverting to mediate the relations that collectively constitute them where the objective and

23 Lefebvre, Henri. The Sociology of Marx. London: Pantheon, 1969, 45. 24 Lefebvre, Henri. Critique of Everyday Life. Volume I. London: Verso, 2008, 169, 184. 25 Lefebvre, Critique, 71. 26 Lefebvre, Dialectical, 84. 27 Lefebvre, Dialectical, 77. 28 Lefebvre, Sociology, 54. 29 Lefebvre, Dialectical, 125.

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abstract properties that the commodity possesses are exemplary of Lefebvre’s interpretation of fetishism: Once launched into existence, the commodity involves and envelops the social relations between living men. It develops, however, with its own laws and imposes its own consequences, and then men can enter into relations with one another only by way of products, through commodities and the market, through the currency and money. Human relations seem to be nothing more than relations between things. But this is far from being the case; or rather it is only partly true. In actual fact, the living relations between individuals in the different groups and between these groups themselves are made manifest by these relations between things: in money relations and the exchange of products. Conversely, these relations between things and abstract quantities are only the appearance and expression of human relations in a determinate mode of production, in which individuals (competitors) and groups (classes) are in conflict or contradiction. The direct and immediate relations of human individuals are enveloped and supplanted by mediate and abstract relations, which mask them. The objectivity of the commodity, the market and money is both an appearance and a reality. It tends to function as an objectivity independent of men.30

Subsequently, Lefebvre conceives of fetishism as constitutive of social domination wherein the abstract, autonomous, and alienated properties of these abstractions invert and thereby intervene in society: Fetishism properly so called only appeared when abstractions escaped the control of the thought and will of man. Thus commercial value and money are only in themselves quantitative abstractions: abstract expressions of social, human relations; but these abstractions materialize, intervene as entities in social life and in history, and end by dominating instead of being dominated.31

Consequently, this supraindividual form of social domination imposes itself on both sides of the class relation. Capitalists are deprived of everything except money, while the “non-capitalist experiences a more brutal form of privation”.32 This social situation is also indicative of the subjective aspect of alienation, human estrangement – where “the essence of man has been handed over to a thing, to money, to the fetish”33 – and is reflected in everyone being alienated from human community because they are compelled to act as atomised individuals and to treat each other as means or instruments of self-perpetuation.

30 Lefebvre, Dialectical, 76. 31 Lefebvre quoted in Poster, Mark. Existential Marxism In Postwar France; From Sartre To Althusser. New Jersey: Princeton University Press, 1975, 71. 32 Lefebvre, Dialectical, 44. 33 Lefebvre, Dialectical, 45.

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Mirroring Adorno’s interpretation, Marx’s critique of fetishism is therefore interpreted by Lefebvre as a critique of the socially constituted fetishistic concrete abstractions of value that functions as an alienated, supraindividual, autonomous and inverted form of social domination mediating and compelling individuals’ action. However, Lefebvre also posits limits to the extent of domination, distinguishing himself from Adorno’s account of personification, maiming and negative anthropology. This is because Lefebvre asserts that “the thesis of reification misinterprets the essential meaning of the socio-economic theory expounded in Capital.”34 This is due to the fact that [t]he logic of commodities, however, for all its encroachments upon praxis and its complex interactions with other forms of society and consciousness does not succeed in forming a permanent, closed system. With its complex determinations human labour is not entirely taken over by this form, does not become an inherent element of its content.35

Thus, in opposition to what Lefebvre referred to as the totalising and sociologically deficient ‘watered down Marxism of critical theory”36 which rested on “the ‘long-obsolescent notion of ideology”.37 Lefebvre’s theory of social domination conceives of an internal opposition between these abstract and autonomous fetishistic social forms and the qualitative human content they cannot entirely determine. For, as indicated, Lefebvre is always adamant that qualitative inherently human content cannot be entirely subsumed by quantitative forms. Therefore, Lefebvre stresses that “the abstract thing, the form (commodity, money, capital) cannot carry the process of reification (‘thingification’) to its conclusion”.38 This is because “[i]t cannot free itself from the human relationships it tends to delineate, to distort, and to change into relations between things. It cannot fully exist qua thing.”39 As a result, this process “[d]oes not impose an entirely closed system. Human labour is not entirely taken over by form”.40 Instead “the world of commodities makes its way into praxis, penetrating it if not taking it over entirely.” Therefore, “[h]uman beings do not become things”. Rather “what is more likely is that human beings would be turned into animated abstractions, living, breathing, suffering fictions, did they not put up dramatic resistance to this process”.41 34 Lefebvre, Sociology, 47. 35 Lefebvre, Sociology, 48. 36 Lefebvre, Henri. The Production of Space. London: Wiley-Blackwell, 1992, 44. 37 Lefebvre, Production, 92. 38 Lefebvre, Sociology, 47. 39 Lefebvre, Sociology, 47. 40 Lefebvre, Sociology, 47. 41 Lefebvre, Sociology, 100.

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Thus, in promulgating such a critique, “men”, become “conscious of” and “can transcend the momentary form” of these “relations” seizing on the inherently human content and annulling the concrete abstractions that oppose them with “practical methods”, and “with practical energy”.42 In sum, like Adorno, Lefebvre’s interpretation of Marx centers on his interpretation of fetishism, which he argues Marx used to critique the social constitution of the concrete abstractions of commodities, money and capital. At the same time, Lefebvre’s interpretation of fetishism is also constitutive of how he construes social domination. In his view, the characteristics of the autonomous, inverted, alienated and alienating social domination of capitalism intervenes in social life mediating and compelling individual action. However, in contrast to Adorno, Lefebvre also holds that qualitative human content always internally opposes these quantitative forms, and that it resists becoming entirely determined by them preventing the transformation of humans into things, acting in tandem with critique, as the fulcrum of emancipatory praxis. This interpretation of Marx serves as “the starting point”43 for Lefebvre’s attempts to conceive of how domination is socially embedded in the various phases of his social theory.44 In the next section, I focus on their place in The Production of Space for two reasons. In the first place, the former is arguably Lefebvre’s most influential work and is bound to be of most interest to readers of this volume. In the second, Lefebvre himself stated that the “theory of social space encompasses on the one hand the critical analysis of urban reality and on the other that of everyday life.” For both “everyday life and the urban, indissolubly linked, [are] at one and the same time products and production, [and they] occupy a social space”.45

3 Lefebvre’s Critical Theory of Space In this section, I thus focus on how Lefebvre’s interpretation of the critique of the constituting and constitutive aspects of fetishistic concrete abstractions are drawn on and articulated in The Production of Space. To do so, I eschew a

42 Lefebvre, Dialectical, 82. 43 Lefebvre, Critique, 77. 44 See O’Kane, “Fetishistic” for an account of how Lefebvre utilizes these ideas in his work on everyday life and cities. 45 Lefebvre, Henri. “Part III. Space and Politics” In: Lefebvre, Henri. Writings on Cities, Eleonore Kofman and Elizabeth Lebas (eds./trans.), 185–202. London: Wiley-Blackwell, 1996, 185.

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discussion of the relationship between the triad of representational space, representations of space and spatial practice, instead focusing on how Lefebvre’s notion of abstract space and contradictory space, are developed within the realm of spatial practice. I also point out where they come into contact and are amalgamated with his expansive notion of alienation and his romantic humanism. This is because in order to articulate the former and the latter, Lefebvre draws on and extends his interpretation of the critique of political economy reconstructed above, aligning it with the production of social space: If the critique of political economy [...] were [...] to be resumed, it would no doubt demonstrate how that political economy of space corresponded exactly to the self-presentation of space as the worldwide medium of the definitive installation of capitalism46

From this it follows that Marx’s critique of the fetishistic concrete abstraction of the commodity-form must be supplemented by a critique of the space it inhabits: “the commodity world brings in its wake certain attitudes towards space, certain actions upon space, even a certain concept of space”,47 which Lefebvre calls abstract space. As the space of the commodity world, abstract space is therefore constituted by social labour and possesses the analogous autonomous, supraindividual dominating and inverted properties of fetishistic-forms. Like Adorno’s social theory, Lefebvre’s ensuing socio-theoretical account of space articulates the internal relation of these fetishistic forms of concrete abstraction in neo-capitalist society, thus formulating a critical theory of society viz his critique of social space via his interpretation of Marx’s critique of fetishism. To do so, Lefebvre uses Marx’s notion of the Trinity Formula as an analogical basis accounting for how the fetishistic concrete abstractions of bureaucracy and capital are related to, and indeed exist in, abstract space where the “[p]roducts and the circuits they establish (in space) are fetishized” and thus “become more “real” than reality itself”.48 Consequently, “the commodity as a concrete abstraction acts as the power of determinate ‘beings’ (human groups, fractions of classes)”49 whilst bureaucracy is used as an instrument of repressive rule to reproduce this logic and its class relations and thus the persistence of abstract space. As a result, abstract space, as the space where these abstract autonomous and inverted forms coalesce, transforms “‘lived experience’” and “bodies” into

46 Lefebvre, Production, 104. 47 Lefebvre, Production, 341. 48 Lefebvre, Production, 81. 49 Lefebvre, Production, 341.

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“lived abstractions”50 compelling individuals to perpetuate class relations, the forms and space they inhabit. Yet, as a consequence of Lefebvre’s insistence on the limits of formal determination, social domination also meets its internal opposition in contradictory space. In so doing, such a notion of contradictory space is meant to act as the fulcrum of his critique, providing Lefebvre with the theoretical vantage point that uncovers and points to the practical overcoming of the domination of abstract space. For it is here that Lefebvre articulates his internal opposition between dominating quantity and oppositional quality, form and humane content, wherein he amalgamates the aforementioned account of domination taken from the critique of political economy with his more far-flung notions of romantic humanism. On one side, this leads Lefebvre to conflate the abstract domination of individuals by the forms of neo-capitalism with the “transformation of bodies and lived experience” engendered by “quantitative” phenomena such as homogenous environments and sexual repression. On the other side of his dualistic opposition, moreover, Lefebvre outlines a number of qualitative, localised, differentiated aspects of resistance to abstract space. Here Lefebvre’s notion of re-appropriating space and workplace democracy are joined to the different theoretical elements reflective of his romantic notion of humanism, such as an espousal of difference over homogeneity, the qualitative space of leisure, the consumption of exchange value, and libidinal release, which promote a type of opposition to abstraction through a politicisation of hedonism. Whilst Lefebvre insists that all of these forms of domination and resistance coalesce in the relationship between the body and space, he doesn’t seem to grasp that rooting such a critique in “social practice (Marx)” and “art, poetry, music and drama (Nietzsche)”, both of which may very well be rooted in “the material body”, nevertheless points to very different notions of resistance and social transformation. More importantly, as I discuss below, it seems to foreclose the possibility that these romantic notions of humanism can be colonized by capitalism.51 Nonetheless, Lefebvre’s critique of abstract space can thus be seen as exemplary of his critical social theory insofar as his interpretation of the Marxian theory of fetishistic-forms of concrete abstraction forms the basis of his theory of how neo-capitalist abstract space is constituted and constitutive of social domination at the same time as its formal limits are contested by its inherently 50 “In face of this fetishized abstraction, ‘users’ spontaneously turn themselves, their presence, their ‘lived experience’ and their bodies into abstractions too. Fetishized abstract space thus gives rise to two practical abstractions: ‘users’ who cannot recognize themselves within it, and a thought which cannot conceive of adopting a critical stance towards it.” Lefebvre, Production, 93. 51 Lefebvre, Production, 406.

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human qualities. In so doing, such a critical theory parallels Adorno’s insofar as Lefebvre’s critique of the social constitution and social domination of capitalist society is incumbent upon his interpretation of Marx’s critique of political economy. Yet as I have also shown Lefebvre’s critical theory differs with Adorno: positing limits to domination premised upon a romantic notion of humanism and resistance, rather than a negative anthropology. Nonetheless, as I have shown, there are certainly points of convergence between Adorno and Lefebvre that warrant considering the latter’s work as a critical theory of society. In the next section I turn to and draw on Alfred Schmidt and Greig Charnock’s work, which has previously considered Lefebvre from the perspective of Adornian critical theory – before concluding by pointing to areas of compatibility between Adorno and Lefebvre that I hold are relevant for contemporary critical theory.

4 Lefebvre and Adornian Critical Theory Adorno’s and Horkheimer’s student, and noted scholar of critical theory, Alfred Schmidt was the first to consider Lefebvre’s critical Marxism from the perspective of Adornian critical theory. Schmidt made favourable mention of Lefebvre’s interpretation of Marx’s ‘progressive-regressive’ historical method in his pointed critique of structuralist Marxism, History and Structure. Yet Schmidt’s afterword to his German translation of Dialectical Materialism, translated into English as “Henri Lefebvre and Contemporary Interpretations of Marx”, is where one can find Schmidt’s distinctly Adornian consideration of Lefebvre’s Marxism. On one hand, Schmidt argues that Lefebvre’s writings are “indispensible”.52 This is due not only to the distinctly Hegelian elements of Lefebvre’s interpretation of Marx, but also because, mirroring Adorno, “for him Marxism is not a philosophy of being, but a philosophy of the concept”53 entailing an anthropology premised on the notion of alienation in the Marxian sense. In Schmidt’s view, Lefebvre’s anthropology is therefore critical insofar as it is a historical theory of human essence, which has thus far amounted to the alienated conflict “between man and nature”.54 Consequently, in Schmidt’s view, like Adorno, “Lefebvre, not incorrectly, believes that he remains true to the idea of a critique of political

52 Schmidt, Alfred. “Henri Lefebvre and Contemporary Interpretations of Marx” In: The Unknown Dimension: European Marxism since Lenin, Dick Howard and Karl E. Klare (eds.), 322–341. New York: Basic Books, 1972, 323. 53 Schmidt, Henri Lefebvre, 327. 54 Schmidt, Henri Lefebvre, 330.

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economy when he underlines the irreducibility of human and social spheres to the economic one” whilst also criticizing the alienated “natural objectivity of the historical process as a whole” by “defetishizing the world of commodities”55 from “the point of view of its ‘Aufhebung’”.56 Thus, as I have shown, following Marx and critical theory, [a]ll of Lefebvre’s work, including Dialectical Materialism, takes up the task of revealing the illusory character of this social objectivity. Evolved through practice, it can only be dissolved through practice.57

Greig Charnock’s more recent work on Lefebvre also indicates many of these parallels between Lefebvre and Adornian critical theory insofar as Charnock points to the similarities between Lefebvre and the Adornian critical theory of Open Marxism. Like Schmidt, Charnock points to Lefebvre’s “steadfast commitment to Marxism, to dialectical thought, and to a certain notion of critique”58 centered on his “enduring commitment to an approach developed around questions of fetishism” amounting to a “version of dialectical thought” that advocated deciphering “a fetishised social reality”.59 Yet Schmidt and Charnock also point to important dissimilarities in Lefebvre and Adornian critical theory. For Schmidt, these points of incongruity can be seen to stem from what he sees as the weaknesses in Lefebvre’s account of alienation and domination. In an Adornian register, Schmidt thus criticizes what I have pointed to as the romantic aspects of Lefebvre’s account of social domination, which Schmidt holds “disappear if the individual identifies with […] life-styles imposed on him”60 by the culture industry of negative capitalist totality. Consequently, “Lefebvre’s conception of alienation seems harmless, because it holds all too firmly to the continuity of the prerequisites of individualistic society, which were already becoming debatable in the second half of the previous century” and “overlooks the fact that theory must abstract from individuals to the extent that they become mere “personifications of economic categories”.61 Charnock, on the other hand, points to the “absence of a definitive Frankfurt School theory of space, form and urbanity” which can be said to hamper the applicability of Adorno’s critical theory to contemporary capitalist 55 Schmidt, Henri Lefebvre, 331. 56 Schmidt, Henri Lefebvre, 332. 57 Schmidt, Henri Lefebvre, 332. 58 Charnock, Challenging, 1279. 59 Charnock, Challenging, 1285. 60 Charnock, Challenging, 335. 61 Charnock, Challenging, 335.

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society, signaling how Lefebvre’s work might be incorporated into the critical theory of society.62

Conclusion In concluding, I draw on Schmidt, Charnock and my own comparative reconstruction to outline a Lefebvrian and Adornian infused critique of contemporary capitalist society. In the first place, such a contemporary critical theory would have to evaluate what aspects of Adorno and Lefebvre’s theory are still critical of our contemporary society. I contend that such an evaluation can close the gap between Adorno’s negative anthropology and Lefebvre’s romantic humanism. For, as Boltanski and Chiapello’s analysis of the New Spirit of Capitalism points out, much of the critique of alienation composed by the artistic avant-garde in the mid-20th century has been coopted by capitalism.63 This is particularly true of the more romantic aspects of Lefebvre’s theory insofar as the subsumption of the romantic elements of everyday life by capitalist accumulation that Lefebvre saw as inherently resistant − such as creativity, leisure, music, drama, poetry and sexual expression − might be said to concretize and draw out the applicability of Schmidt’s critique of Lefebvre for the present day. Consequently, if these transformations are taken into consideration and these romantic elements of Lefebvre’s humanism are eliminated, his anthropology is no longer as at odds with Adorno’s negativity, as Schmidt also indicates. Therefore, such a contemporary critical theory of society could also draw on the points of affinity that I point to. For, a proper critical theory of contemporary capitalism would not resort to the conspiratorial economism that portrays neoliberalism as an elite-driven theory of mass privatization, nor one that sees the latter in terms of the colonization of the democratic lifeworld by instrumental reason. Rather, as Clarke,64 Peck65 and others have shown the internal relation between state bureaucracy, the concrete abstraction of exchange and its dominating dynamic of reproduction in all spheres of modern

62 Charnock, Greig “Space, Form and Urbanity” In: The Sage Handbook of Frankfurt School Critical Theory, Beverly Best, Werner Bonefeld et al. (eds.). London: Sage, 2018 [in press]. 63 See Boltanksi, Luc and Eve Chiapello. The New Spirit of Capitalism. London: Verso, 2005. 64 Clarke, Simon. “The Neoliberal Theory of Society: The Ideological Foundations of Neoliberalism” In: Neoliberalism: A Critical Reader, Alfred Saad-Filho and Deborah Johnston (eds.), 50–60. London: Pluto Press, 2004. 65 Peck, Jamie. Constructions of Neoliberal Reason. London: Oxford University Press, 2010.

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society, parallels the internal relation between these domains in Adorno and Lefebvre’s critical social theory.66 Moreover, some of these similarities might be drawn together to overcome the blindspots in Lefebvre and Adorno’s respective work in order to move toward a critical account of contemporary society. This is notably the case with Adorno’s lack of a theory of space and Lefebvre’s account of domination, especially in light of its suggested modification. Thus, Lefebvre’s notion of abstract space and Adorno’s idea of negative totality might prove to be supplementary when accounting for the reproduction of neoliberal society, particularly the appropriation of the romantic elements of Lefebvre’s theory in the constitution of the negativity of the abstract space of creative cities. Adorno’s notion of integration could then explain the role that ‘creatives’, the artisan economy, community themed condos, and the commodification of desire play in reproduction, testifying that these romantic aspects of Lefebvre’s humanism are no longer inherently resistant but part and parcel of capitalist domination.67 Finally, such a critical theory could confront Lefebvre’s characterization of critical theory with its reality, pointing to the place of the non-identical in Adorno’s theory. Doing so would point out, contra Lefebvre, that Adorno never held that domination was entirely systematic and pervasive, but that in fact negative dialectics was premised on negating the objectivity of exchange and conceptuality on the bases of what these forms could not grasp; not only their constitution by social relations of antagonism incumbent on the domination of nature, but the very possibility of people upon realizing their predicament transforming these relations into a non-dominating society that will realize humanity. Taken these points into consideration suggests that Adorno and Lefebvre can then be utilized in a critical theory of contemporary society that critiques its dominating forms with recourse to the critique of fetishism by pointing to the relations that perpetuate and maim, but do not entirely determine, the individuals in these relations, and thus point to the possibility of overcoming such a society through the transformation of its relations. In so doing, this points not only to a new perspective on Lefebvre as a critical theorist of society and his parallels with Adornian critical theory, but also their contemporary relevance.

66 See O’Kane, Society, for an account of the relevance Adorno’s critical theory of negative totality holds for contemporary society. 67 For an account of the relationship between the artisanal economy and the new spirit of capitalism, see Munro, Kirstin and Chris O’Kane. “Autonomy and Creativity in the Aristan Economy and the New Spirit of Capitalism” Review of Radical Political Economics, 49:4 (2017): 582–590.

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References Adorno, Theodor W. Positivist Dispute in German Sociology. London: Ashgate Pub Co, 1981. Adorno, Theodor W. Negative Dialektik. Frankfurt a.M.: Suhrkamp, 1997. English translation online: Negative Dialectics, Dennis Redmond (trans.). http://members.efn. org/~dredmond/ndtrans.html (05/07/18). Adorno, Theodor W. The Jargon of Authenticity. London: Routledge, 2002. Adorno, Theodor W. “On Marx and the Basic Concepts of Sociological Theory”, Verena Erlenbusch and Chris O’Kane (trans.). Historical Materialism [forthcoming]. Anderson, Perry. Considerations on Western Marxism. London: Verso, 1979. Backhaus, Hans Georg. “Between Philosophy and Science: Marxian Social Economy as Critical Theory” In: Open Marxism, Werner Bonefeld et al. (eds.), 54–92. London: Pluto, 1992. Bonefeld, Werner. Critical Theory and the Critique of Political Economy. London: Bloomsbury, 2014. Boltanksi, Luc and Eve Chiapello. The New Spirit of Capitalism. London: Verso, 2005. Braunstein, Dirk. Adornos Kritik der politischen Ökonomie. Bielefeld, Transcript, 2011. Chari, Anita. The Political Economy of the Senses. New York: Columbia, 2016. Charnock, Greig. “Challenging New State Spatialities? The Open Marxism of Henri Lefebvre” Antipode 42:5 (2010): 1279–1303. Charnock, Greig. “Space, Form, Urbanity” In: The Sage Handbook of Frankfurt School Critical Theory, Werner Bonefeld et al. (eds.). London: Sage, 2018 [in press]. Clarke, Simon. “The Neoliberal Theory of Society: The Ideological Foundations of Neoliberalism” In: Neoliberalism: A Critical Reader, Alfred Saad Filho and Deborah Johnson (eds.), 50–60. London: Pluto Press, 2004. Dahms, Harry. “How Social Science is Impossible Without Critical Theory” In: No Social Science Without Critical Theory: Current Perspectives in Social Theory, Harry Dahms (ed.), 249–305. Bingley: Emerald Publishing Limited, 2008. Elden, Stuart. Understanding Henri Lefebvre. London: Continuum, 2004. Habermas, Jürgen and Thomas Y. Levin. “The Entwinement of Myth and Enlightenment: Re-Reading Dialectic of Enlightenment” New German Critique 26 (1982): 13–30. Jay, Martin. Marxism and Totality: The Adventures of a Concept from Lukács to Habermas. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1986. Lefebvre, Henri. The Sociology of Marx. London: Pantheon, 1969. Lefebvre, Henri. The Production of Space. London: Blackwell, 1991. Lefebvre, Henri. “Part III. Space and Politics” In: Lefebvre, Henri. Writings on Cities, Eleonore Kofman and Elizabeth Lebas (eds./trans.), 185–202. London: Wiley-Blackwell, 1996. Lefebvre, Henri. Critique of Everyday Life. Vol. I. London: Verso, 2008. Lefebvre, Henri. Dialectical Materialism. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2009. Lotz, Christian. The Capitalist Schema: Time, Money, and the Culture of Abstraction. Lanham MD: Lexington Books, 2014. Marx, Karl. Capital. Volume I: A Critique of Political Economy, Ben Fowkes (trans.). London: Penguin Classics, 1992. Merrifield, Andrew. Henri Lefebvre: A Critical Introduction. London: Routledge, 2006. Munro, Kirstin and Chris O’Kane. “Autonomy and Creativity in the Aristan Economy and the New Spirit of Capitalism” Review of Radical Political Economics 49:4 (2017): 582–590. O’Kane, Chris. “Fetishistic Concrete Abstraction, Social Constitution and Social Domination in Henri Lefebvre’s Writings on Everyday Life, Cities and Space” Capital & Class 42:2 (2018): 253–271.

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O’Kane, Chris. “Society Maintains Itself Despite all the Catastrophes That May Eventuate: Critical Theory, Negative Totality, and Crisis” Constellations 25:2 (2018): 287–301. O’Kane, Chris. “Introduction to Theodor W. Adorno on Marx and the Basic Concepts of Sociological Theory”, Historical Materialism [forthcoming]. Peck, Jamie. Constructions of Neoliberal Reason. London: Oxford University Press, 2010. Poster, Mark. Existential Marxism In Postwar France; From Sartre To Althusser. New Jersey: Princeton University Press, 1975. Schmidt, Alfred. “Henri Lefebvre and Contemporary Interpretations of Marx” In: The Unknown Dimension: European Marxism since Lenin, Dick Howard and Karl E. Klare (eds.), 322–341. New York: Basic Books, 1972. Stanek, Łukasz. Henri Lefebvre on Space: Architecture, Urban Research, and the Production of Theory. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2011. Wilson, Japhy. “‘The Devastating Conquest of the Lived by the Conceived’: The Concept of Abstract Space in the Work of Henri Lefebvre” Space and Culture 16:(3) (2013): 364–380.

II. Applying Lefebvre: Urban Space

Sebastian Dorsch

Rereading Henri Lefebvre’s La production de l’espace Appropriation, Nature, and Time-Space in São Paulo Spatial History at the turn from the 19th to the 20th century A second implication is that every society […] produces a space, its own space. […] For the ancient city had its own spatial practice: it forged its own – appropriated – space.1

While writing La production de l’espace (1974), Henri Lefebvre outlined several implications of his thesis regarding the production of space. In the second implication, he stated that societies such as the ancient city produced “its own – appropriated–space”. What does this mean, appropriation? In some colloquial and professional contexts, such as in sociology, anthropology, and law, the term “appropriation” figures prominently. Most often, it is used in the sense of usurpation and annexation, in the sense of using cultural elements in order to “colonize” the “origin”, in order to take over the original culture of these elements or even in the sense of stealing said “origin”. On the other hand, the term is not very intensively conceptualized; it is hardly possible to find a widely accepted definition. The following article seeks to show how the term appropriation can support social and historical analyses. Thus, I will begin by re-reading Lefebvre’s La production de l’espace and his discussion and uses of the term “appropriation”, firstly, as an essential and at the same time under-conceptualized element of his ideas concerning space, and, secondly, as the element with which he combined space and time as time-space. Then, I will adopt the term for a – short – analysis of some São Paulo’s spatio-temporal techniques in the turn from the 19th to the 20th century.

1 Lefebvre, Henri. The Production of Space, Donald Nicholson-Smith (trans.). Malden/Oxford/ Victoria: Blackwell Publishing, 2012 [1991], 31. Quoted in the following as “PS” in the text. For the French quotations, see Lefebvre, Henri. La production de l’espace. Paris: Anthropos, 1986 [3rd ed.]. https://doi.org/10.1515/9783110494983-005

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1 Production, Appropriation and Domination of Space and Nature As outlined in the introduction and the preface of this edited volume, Henri Lefebvre and his considerations on space have received renewed attention in the last few years – Susanne Rau called it the third renaissance. In his La production de l’espace, edited in 1974 and published in English in 1991, he introduced for his spatial analysis a famous triad of concepts to be applied in interwoven dependency to each other: Spatial practice, representations of space, and representational spaces.2 In his definition of two of these three notions, the idea of appropriation is crucial. The definition of the concept of spatial practice reads in the English translation by Donald Nicholson-Smith: “The spatial practice of a society secretes that society’s space; it propounds and presupposes it, in a dialectical interaction; it produces it slowly and surely as it masters and appropriates it.” (PS, 38) According to Lefebvre, a society produces its space “as it masters and appropriates it”.3 A few lines later, he defined the third element of his spatial triad, the representational space, as “the dominated – and hence passively experienced – space which the imagination seeks to change and appropriate” (PS, 39). Thus, in Lefebvre’s thinking, domination and appropriation became interrelated intensively and appropriation, in contrast to domination, seems to receive a positive meaning. The relationship between these two terms is the focus of chapter two, part XV. The dominated and dominant space is, as quoted above, on the one hand described as “passively experienced” (PS, 39) space. Later, Lefebvre also called it this space “transformed – and mediated – by technology, by practice” which is “usually closed, sterilized, emptied out” (PS, 164). Is the dominated space thus an artificial, in a sense a corrupted-denaturalized space – and, consequently, is domination a denaturalizing technique? Taking this as given, how can it be brought together with Lefebvre’s statement that the representational spaces are not just the dominated-denaturalized spaces but in the first run the spaces “lived through its associated images and symbols” (“l’espace vécu à travers les images et symboles qui l’accompagnent”4), the “space[s] of ‘inhabitants’ and ‘users’” 2 For more details of these concepts see the introduction. 3 “From the grammatical perspective, the subject ‘it’ could mean also the ‘spatial practice’, but as a (spatial) practice apparently cannot act, it makes more sense to read it like this.” In the French original, we encounter the same problem, here it reads: “La pratique spatiale d’une société secrète son espace; elle le pose et suppose, dans une interaction dialectique; elle le produit lentement et surement en le dominant et en se l’appropriant.” Lefebvre, La production, 48. 4 Lefebvre, La production, 49.

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(PS, 39)? Is there not a contradiction between a lived space/espace vécu and a dominated space/espace dominé? For finding an answer to these questions one has, first, to look closer at the idea Lefebvre developed about domination, appropriation, and nature. Lefebvre characterized dominated (and dominant) spaces as technological constructions, not seldom with a “rectilinear or rectangular form” (PS, 165) and he mentioned as examples chequered concrete slabs or the brutalizing landscapes of motorways. They are “not yet ‘products’” in Lefebvre’s sense, but “the realization of a master’s project” and still “closed, sterilized, emptied out” (PS, 165). Following this argument, the emphasis in the description of representational spaces as dominated spaces is not that they are lived but that they are lived through their associated images and symbols, that they are mediated by technology, realized, but not yet products in the Lefebvrian sense. They are not (yet?) appropriated by their users. In this sense Lefebvre points out that domination “attains its full meaning only when it is contrasted with the opposite and inseparable concept of appropriation” (PS, 164). But, what did appropriation mean to him? Lefebvre criticized Marx for not having discriminated between appropriation and domination – and here he brought in (again) the concept of nature. In the work of Marx, nature was seen as a force of production and as such it was supposed to be dominated by human labor and technology: “Thus nature was converted directly from an enemy, an indifferent mother, into ‘goods’.” (PS, 165) In contrast to Marx’s times, Lefebvre drew a distinction between domination and appropriation of nature and, consequently, he could describe nature not just as a resource but also as a “source of use value” (PS, 343). He alludes here to “nature” – that did not happen accidentally. In his argumentation, nature as well as natural space are core elements for understanding appropriation and how it is differentiated from the domination of space. The ideal form of an appropriating act is that of modifying “natural space […] in order to serve the needs and possibilities of a group” (PS, 165).5 Lefebvre defined natural space in a rather romantic way as “the origin, and the original model, of the social process – perhaps the basis of all ‘originality’” (PS, 30). For a critique of his definition of nature and his distinction between social and natural space see below. Defining nature, he emphasized that it cannot produce, because production means to generate exchangeable and reproducible goods whereas nature as trees, flowers and so forth, is connected to creativity: Nature does not produce,

5 Contrasting Marx, in the thinking of Lefebvre, property is not oppositional to appropriation but can be seen as “precondition and most often merely an epiphenomenon” (PS, 165).

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but it creates unique, un-exchangeable works. Whereas products are measurable and quantifiable, nature is associated with quality. Connected to critics of modernity he postulated a “qualitative leap” and the end of “the process of purely quantitative growth” (PS, 357). But – as stated in his first implication – the “natural space is disappearing”, it had already been “defeated”, waiting “for its ultimate voidance and destruction” (PS, 31). As defeated but resistant, nature remained in our present times alive like childhood merely “via the filter of memory” (PS, 30). A society appropriates a natural space, it modifies it to its own space in a way that the space serves the needs and possibilities of this group. Further concretizing the term, following Lefebvre, “appropriation” does not include the cases when space “outlive[s] its original purpose and the raison d’être which determines its forms, functions, and structures”, when it “in a sense become[s] vacant”. These cases Lefebvre described as “reappropriation” (PS, 168) or diversion (“détournement”, PS, 167): space can be “diverted, reappropriated and put to a use quite different from its initial one” (PS, 167). Following this, appropriation sensu stricto is bound to the original purpose, to natural space and to creative practices. Only in a wider sense, Lefebvre called practices appropriative also in cases which he labelled here as diversion, which “is in itself merely appropriation, not creation – a reappropriation” (PS, 168). In this context, it is remarkable which examples Lefebvre mentioned for appropriated spaces. With particular emphasis he pointed to peasant houses, “les maisons paysannes et les villages”,6 to igloos, oriental straw huts, traditional Japanese houses (PS, 166) and, later on, to Latin American favelas (PS, 373f.). It is remarkable, firstly because Lefebvre listed buildings, the “the indoor space of family life” which should be “in the best of circumstances” appropriated and he contrasted them versus the dominated “outside space of the community” (PS, 166). As widely spread in Western thinking, the home is assumed to be an implicitly safe place, whereas the public sphere is alienated and, in a way, dangerous. Secondly, the examples are remarkable because Lefebvre highlighted hetero(chrono)topic buildings, meaning buildings in non-urban or/and non-European/Western regions. Is it because they are more “natural”, closer to the “origin”? It seems so and I will come to this aspect later. A few lines onward, these buildings appear as witnesses of an (ideal?) past: “There was once such a thing as appropriation without domination” (PS, 166). But afterwards with “history – which is to say the history of accumulation” and with the emergence of wars, armies, of the state and political power, dominated spaces have grown and as quoted “natural space is disappearing” (PS, 31).

6 Lefebvre, La production, 192.

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We can maintain that dominated space is thought as corrupted-denaturalized and that it is lived not in concordance with nature but mediated/alienated by technologies – it is the opposite to appropriated space as closer to (romanticized) nature and its original purpose. This statement is emphasized when Lefebvre insinuated, at the end of chapter two, part XV, the connection between space and body and described body cultures and techniques since antiquity (mis)appropriating the body (sports, gymnastics, sexuality). He ends with a halfway romantic prospect: “The true place of pleasure, which would be an appropriated space par excellence, does not yet exist.” (PS, 167) Lefebvre called his lifetime, that is the second half of the twentieth century, a “difficult” (PS, 167) period because appropriation became the only role of proclaiming its importance. He described his present as characterized by an omnipresent state weighing “down on society (on all societies) in full force” and organizing society “‘rationally’” (PS, 23). Against this state “seething forces are still capable of rattling the lid of the cauldron of the state and its space, for differences can never be totally quieted” (PS, 23). He dreamed of a revolution on the way with the goal of (re)appropriating spaces: “any revolutionary project” (“tout projet actuel, utopique ou réaliste”)7 had to contain “the reappropriation of the body, in association with the reappropriation of space” (PS, 166 f.). When we are asking what concept of nature and revolution he had in mind we need to look closer at his understanding of time and history.

2 Time-Space I: “Le bien suprême, c’est le temps-espace” […] and indeed appropriation cannot be understood apart from the rhythms of time and life. (PS, 166)

“The supreme good is time-space” (PS, 350) – but what did Lefebvre mean by time and by time-space? Reading some of the quoted passages of La production de l’espace, Lefebvre seems to build up a (Hegelian/Marxist) timeline: Starting with nature and natural space which is/was vanishing and which became defeated and destroyed, coming to appropriated spaces and then – sometimes via diversion as “temporary halt” (PS, 168) – arriving to dominated spaces and, as he hoped, finally to revolution and reappropriation. In the introductory paragraphs of his book addressing the “history of space” the first period is that of 7 Lefebvre, La production, 193.

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absolute/natural space, followed by historical space – with the emblem of the Western town dominating the countryside – and then ending in abstract, state dominated spaces (see below). He looked at history like a geologist, writing about “stratum” and “superimposed spaces” (PS, 164). History interpreted as “productive process” (PS, 46) was for him “the history of accumulation” (PS, 31) and as such the interference of wars, armies, state and political power against natural space and originality. Did he think about time as a lawlike process? When we link this statement with that concerning the “period as difficult as the present” one could get the impression that he is narrating an enormous story of decadence and alienation. “The ‘dominance’ whose acme we are thus fast approaching has very deep roots in history.” (PS, 164) But looking closely at his text one can find several passages where Lefebvre pointed to another understanding of history, one that is not conceptualized as a lawlike decadent process. He described the “Renaissance town” (PS, 47) as historical godsend, establishing a period (until the nineteenth century) of “favourable circumstances” when the triad of spatial practice, representations of space and representational spaces constituted “a coherent whole” (PS, 40). In this period “the Western town […] was fortunate enough to enjoy such auspicious conditions” (PS, 40): “Tuscan painters, architects and theorists developed representations of space – perspective – on the basis of a social practice which was itself, as we shall see, the result of a historic change in the relationship between town and country.” (PS, 41) The conditions in Renaissance were auspicious because the mentioned representation of space, the “code of linear perspective” (PS, 41)8 was not only based on spatial practice but also “tended to dominate and subordinate a representational space” (PS, 40) – and thus all three parts of the spatial triad constituted “a coherent whole” (PS, 40). It becomes clear that Lefebvre understood history and time not as a lawlike process of decadence but as a rhythmical process made by humans, in this case by humans in (European) Renaissance, while appropriating and producing new spaces. What happens then to the historical “superimposed spaces” (PS, 164), to the former strata, the past? Lefebvre asserted that “no space ever vanishes utterly, leaving no trace” (PS, 164). As examples, he pointed to natural spaces/objects like trees that “continue to be perceived as part of their contexts in nature” (PS, 164) even when their surrounding space begins to fill with dominant space objects like streets. It is “current work, including brain work” that “takes up the results of the past and revivifies them” (PS, 349).

8 Lefebvre explicated this code as “vanishing line, the vanishing-point and the meeting of parallel lines ‘at infinity’ where the determinants of a representation, at once intellectual and visual, which promoted the primacy of the gaze in a kind of ‘logic of visualization’.” (PS, 41)

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In this respect, the argument of living, of doing time and space, of spacetime becomes important. Lefebvre proposed a history of space closely connected to a history of time converging in a study of “rhythms, and of the modification of those rhythms and their inscriptions in space by means of human actions” and beginning with “the spatio-temporal rhythms of nature as transformed by a social practice” (PS, 117).9 Appropriation is conceptualized as a technique which “itself implies time (or times), rhythm (or rhythms), symbols, and a practice” (PS, 356). In Lefebvrian thinking, appropriating seems to present a spatio-temporal practice par excellence.

3 Time-space II: Pax estatica of the State and the Second Nature of Urban Life The state crushes time […] and imposes itself as the stable centre […]. (PS, 23)

Refining the Marxist distinction between use value and exchange value, Lefebvre defined state and capitalist domination techniques by the fetish of functionalizing spaces, the intention of replacing subjectively lived, appropriated time-space by abstract, exchangeable, quantifiable and timeless spaces, replacing (re-) appropriation by domination. The fact is that use re-emerges sharply at odds with exchange in space, for it implies not ‘property’ but ‘appropriation’. […] The more space is functionalized – the more completely it falls under the sway of those ‘agents’ that have manipulated it so as to render it unifunctional – the less susceptible it becomes to appropriation. Why? Because in this way it is removed from the sphere of lived time, from the time of its ‘users’, which is a diverse and complex time. All the same, what is it a buyer acquires when he purchases a space? The answer is time. (PS, 356)

The intent of introducing interchangeability is for Lefebvre one of the main reasons for what he called “the tendency toward the destruction of nature” (PS,  343) in modernity. Furthermore, this transformation implicates that space

9 A rhythm “embodies its own law, its own regularity, which derives from space – from its own space – and from a relationship between space and time” (PS, 206), it possesses an own timespace. Rhythm-analysis for the analysis of the relationship of space and time is introduced in chapter three, part X.

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“is removed from the sphere of lived time, from the time of its ‘users’” (PS, 356)10 and from subjectivity and quality. The quantifiable abstract space it is not lived, not appropriated, but means domination and objectivation, it “tends towards non-appropriation – i.e. towards destruction” (PS, 343). Later, Lefebvre described the state as a particular institution developing dominant/dominated spaces. They are characterized by “a sort of pax estatica” because the state “implies a logic of stability” (PS, 387). “The state crushes time by reducing differences to repetitions or circularities […] and imposes itself as the stable centre” (PS, 23). It was the capitalist state and the bourgeoisie which promoted the mode of interchangeability, “the mode of production of things in space” (PS, 410) – a promotion which tried to cover its violent and destructive character. This abstract space acts as an “impersonal pseudo-subject” (PS, 51) negatively against “differential space-time” and positively “vis-à-vis its own implications: technology, applied sciences, and knowledge bound to power” (PS, 50). In contrast to “the mode of production of things in space”, Lefebvre connected with “the mode of production of space” (PS, 410) a revolutionary project, against the world of interchangeability, against the (capitalist) state and his space domination, a project in which “a ‘second nature’ may replace the first” (PS, 348). More concretely, this ‘second nature’ means “the city, urban life, and social energetics” (PS, 368), i.e. “the development of the urban sphere” (PS, 387). After humanity and especially the West destroyed nature, Lefebvre called the production of this second nature the “gigantic task” (PS, 109) laying before mankind. And, this is the task he aimed at with his proposals for spatial studies as a “science of use” (PS, 368) – versus a (state)society based on abstraction, exchangeability and domination and for urban societies based on second nature, use, time-space and appropriation. On the way to this goal, space and living labor are crucial to counter capitalist and state domination techniques. It is via the production of space that living labour can produce something that is no longer a thing, nor simply a set of tools, nor simply a commodity. […] In and by means of space, the work may shine through the product, use value may gain the upper hand over exchange value: appropriation, turning the world upon its head, may (virtually) achieve dominion over domination (PS, 349).

On an analytical level, Lefebvre hoped to dissolve the abstract separation between time and space, “between these two different yet closely connected terms” (PS, 351). When “space relegates time to an abstraction of its own” (PS, 393) as in 10 A few pages later Lefebvre criticized the state-capitalist marginalisation of those “referred to by means of such clumsy and pejorative labels as ‘users’ and ‘inhabitants’” (PS, 362).

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distances, pathways or transportation, Lefebvre denominated this as an oppressive and repressive practice of falsification. And this falsification results in what he called abstract space – a “fetishized” space, “that reduces possibilities, and cloaks conflicts and differences in illusory coherence and transparency” (PS, 393). Lefebvre pointed to artists such as Pablo Picasso, Paul Klee and especially Wassily Kandinsky, and to architects as Le Corbusier and the Bauhaus school as forerunners in a discussion concerning “the cult of rectitude, in the sense of right angles and straight lines” (PS, 305) – a cult which the state used for domination. Moreover, Lefebvre marked especially the middle classes as victims of these “brutal spatial practice” (PS, 308), of the “tranquilizing ideas and the image of a social world in which they have their own specially labelled, guaranteed place” (PS, 309). Similar to Foucault with his focus on normalization-practices, in the eyes of Lefebvre, the middle-classes voluntarily self-victimized themselves by overtaking and living the state forms of space and exchangeability. “Thus, step by step, society in its entirety is reduced to an endless parade of systems and subsystems, and any social object whatsoever can pass for a coherent entity.” (PS, 311) In this abstraction and domination of space, mimesis receives a double role: It “simulates primary nature, immediacy, and the reality of the body”. On the other side, “mimesis makes it possible to establish an abstract ‘spatiality’ as a coherent system that is partly artificial and partly real. Nature is imitated, for example, but only seemingly reproduced” (PS, 376). Finally, in the state of abstract space “mimesis (simulation, imitation) becomes merely a reproducibility” (PS, 377), reinforcing the established without poietic/creative forms of appropriation.11 Contrasting these oppressive abstraction techniques, time manifests itself as “the desire to ‘do’ something, and hence to ‘create’”, what “can only occur in a space – and through the production of a space” (PS, 393). In this sense, Lefebvre arrived at the conclusion that the “supreme good is time-space; this is what ensures the survival of being, the energy that being contains and has at its disposal.” (PS, 350) And, appropriation is the practice combining space and time: “Appropriation itself implies time (or times), rhythm (or rhythms), symbols, and a practice.” (PS, 356) Against the oppressive and tranquilizing pax estatica, against abstract space, in which time is reduced to serve the spatial, time and especially urban time(s) have revolutionary potential: “Le bien suprême, c’est le temps-espace”.12 11 Lefebvre differs between different forms of mimesis; see Lefebvre, Henri. Métaphilosophie. Prolégomènes. Paris: Éditions de Minuit, 1965. For a discussion of Lefebvre’s distinction between technology and mimesis and poiesis with their residual powers – fundamental to his concept of the subject – see Bauer, Jenny. Geschlechterdiskurse um 1900. Literarische Identitätsentwürfe im Kontext deutsch-skandinavischer Raumproduktion. Bielefeld: transcript, 2016, 82–87. 12 Lefebvre, La production, 403.

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4 A Short History of Time-Space in São Paulo In this section, I will appropriate the term appropriation and the connected ideas, presenting some potentials and problematic aspects for historical analysis. For this I will focus on São Paulo and its inhabitants, the Paulistanos,13 at the turn from the nineteenth to the twentieth centuries. As part of the Portuguese empire, São Paulo, founded in 1554, had a special position within a Brazil that was oriented to the Atlantic trade and harbors. In contrast to this Atlantic orientation, until the end of the seventeenth century São Paulo was the only larger settlement situated in, and oriented towards, the hinterland, established by the Jesuits for their proselytizing missions. From São Paulo, the “boca de Sertão” (mouth of the backland), many of the Bandeirantes, explorers in Brazil, usually motivated by expectations of profit, started for their excursions through the Amazon valley and for their hunting expeditions against runaway slaves. During the gold and diamond rush in the northern neighboring region of Minas Gerais in the eighteenth century, the city of São Paulo developed as a trading outpost. After the Brazilian declaration of independence from Portugal in 1822, the city established its own advanced school for jurisprudence (1828), but until the 1860s São Paulo remained a small and remote city with about 20,000 to 30,000 inhabitants. As not only Gilberto Freyre pointed out in his famous historical essay on “Sobrados e Mucambos” (translated as “The mansions and the shanties. The making of modern Brazil”) in 1936, Brazilian cities far into the nineteenth century were defined by the absence of elite urban life – the elites stayed in their country houses – and by a strict distinction between the private and the public. Urban street life remained a sphere of the poor.14 In São Paulo, the widely described coffee boom, the massive immigration from Europe and northern parts of Brazil, as well as the widening of the scope to the Atlantic region in many areas of life, had turned this former Jesuit settlement into a prospering metropolis within a very short period of time. By 1900, the number of inhabitants increased tenfold within thirty years, up to a quarter of a million. And within the next thirty years São Paulo, as it became an industrial 13 The inhabitants of the city of São Paulo are called Paulistanos, the inhabitants of the whole region Paulistas. 14 Freyre, Gilberto. Sobrados e mucambos. Decadencia do patriarchado rural no Brasil. São Paulo: Companhia Ed. Nacional, 1936 [trans. The Mansions and the Shanties. The Making of Modern Brazil, Harriet de Onís (trans.). New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1963], esp. ch. 1, 2, 5 and 6; Lauderdale Graham, Sandra. House and Street. The Domestic World of Servants and Masters in Nineteenth-Century Rio de Janeiro. 7th ed. Austin: University of Texas Press, 2006 [1988], esp. 50–54; Curtis, James R. “Praças, Place, and Public Life in Urban Brazil” The Geographical Review 90:4 (2000): 475–492, esp. 479 f.; Beattie, Peter M. “The House, the Street, and the Barracks. Reform and Honorable Masculine Social Space in Brazil, 1864 – 1945” Hispanic American Historical Review 76:3 (1996): 439–473.

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center, reached the status of a megacity with a million inhabitants. After the end of the centralized Brazilian Empire in 1889, which had been orientated towards the capital, the rival harbor city of Rio de Janeiro, São Paulo claimed political and economic supremacy. It was said: “São Paulo não pode parar”, São Paulo never can stop. Many of the leading politicians and economic leaders of the Old Republic (1889–1930) were situated in São Paulo. The political system was called “Café com leite” (“Coffee with milk”), indicating to the leading position of coffee producing São Paulo in cooperation with its neighbor, the milk-producing state of Minas Gerais. Self-confidently, the Paulistas put in 1917 the slogan “Non ducor, duco” (“I am not led, I lead”) on their coat of arms.15 What happened in this period to the city space? Especially from the 1870s onwards, immigrants were arriving from nearly all parts of Europe, but especially from the south (Italy, Spain, Portugal), as well as former slaves leaving the sugar plants in the northern parts of Brazil, migrated not only to the coffee producing areas of northern and western parts of the province of São Paulo. In a growing number they turned now to the city of São Paulo. And there the new Paulistanos from different social contexts appropriated the streets in very different manners compared to the traditional forms of avoiding the urban public sphere. Many historical studies have described and analyzed this change. An increasing number of people then worked and lived in the streets, they drove through the streets as small merchants selling and buying commodities, washing in the rivers, cooking on the streets, many without a fixed working place and without a fixed residence, others living in dwellings later called favelas – lifestyles that the urban historian María Pinto has termed “habits of nomadism”.16 And, besides the emergence of a new aspect of the street as working place, newly arrived inhabitants also introduced new forms of enlivening the urban space, such as playing football or going

15 Love, Joseph L. São Paulo in the Brazilian Federation: 1889–1937. Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1980, esp. chapter 1; quote on p. 1; Frehse, Fraya. Ô da Rua! O transeunte e o advento da modernidade em São Paulo. São Paulo: EDUSP, 2011; Odalia, Nilo and João Ricardo de Castro Caldeira (eds.). História do Estado de São Paulo. A formação da unidade paulista. São Paulo: UNESP/ Arquivo Público do Estado/Imprensa Oficial, 2010, especially v. 1 and v. 2; Dorsch, Sebastian and Michael Wagner. “Gezähmter Dschungel - industrialisierte Agrarwirtschaft - romantisierter  Landloser. Die Mystifizierung des Ländlichen in der deagrarisierten Gesellschaft Brasiliens” Geschichte und Gesellschaft 33:4 (2007): 546–574. For the following parts see also: Dorsch, Sebastian. “Die ‘Yankee City’ São Paulo im verzeitlichten Atlantik: Die Nerven- und Modernekrankheit Neurasthenie” In: Brasilien in der Welt. Region, Nation und Globalisierung 1870–1945 (Globalgeschichte 14), Georg Fischer et alt. (eds.), 296–319. Frankfurt/M. / New York: Campus, 2013. 16 Pinto, Maria Inez Machado Borges: Cotidiano e sobrevivência. A vida do trabalhador pobre na cidade de São Paulo (1890–1914). São Paulo: EDUSP, 1994, 151.

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for a walk through the streets. Now it became possible to observe even women from higher classes strolling through the city. Fraya Frehse maintained in her authoritative study examining the street life of São Paulo that the “public sphere” now became accessible to many more social groups.17 And, even migrants who owned property – the nuclei of future middle classes – used the public sphere in a different manner. Many founded stores in their houses, opening them to the streets. According to contemporary witnesses, clients became used to going shopping all day long.18 At the end of the nineteenth century, many old buildings in the city center were renovated in order to offer the purchase of items in newly established show windows. Following Pinto, different groups of immigrants created different “new spaces of cultural and collective life”.19 Sènia Bastos concluded that the former concept of São Paulo as a “small static town”20 collapsed. At this time, travelers and observers acknowledged and described these far-reaching changes. In 1899, the German traveler Moritz Lamberg wrote observing “the life and the drive in the streets” of São Paulo “active people which all are striving forward”,21 while others described a “ceaseless activity” and the “progressive character of the Paulistas”.22 The Italian Gina Lombroso-Ferrero described São Paulo in 1908 as “an American city, id est, a city filled with this spirit of pride, of adventure, eagerness, and of incessant activity, which the old Brazilian capitals are lacking”.23 And the French traveler Joseph Burnichon, also comparing São Paulo with other Brazilian cities, summarized that it is “without doubt the most active city of Brazil”, and asserted that the new metropolis would feature “something very precocious, it means, something very American”.24

17 Frehse, Da Rua, 179–186 and 430–445. 18 See for example Oficio do Chefe de Policia à Camara, in Papaies Avulsos, 1874, vol. 5, manuscrito; quoted in Bastos, Sênia. Na Paulicéia por Conta Própria. 1870–1886. São Paulo: Pontificia Universidade de São Paulo, 1996, 35 and 84. 19 Pinto, Cotidiano e sobrevivência, 27. 20 Bastos, Na Paulicéia, 95. 21 Lamberg, Moritz. Brasilien. Land und Leute in ethischer, politischer und volkswirtschaftlicher Beziehung und Entwicklung. Leipzig: H. Zieger, 1899, 291 f. 22 Wright, Marie Robinson. The New Brazil. Its Resources and Attractions, Historical, Descriptive, and Industrial. 2d ed., Philadelphia: Barrie, 1907 [1901], 205. 23 Lombroso-Ferrero, Gina. “Nell’America meridonale [1908]” In: Memória da cidade de São Paulo. Depoimentos de moradores e visitantes, 1553–1958, Ernani Silva Bruno (ed.), 145 f., São Paulo: Prefeitura do Município de São Paulo, 1981, 146. 24 Burnichon, Joseph. “Le Brésil d’aujourd’hui [1910]” In: Memória da cidade de São Paulo. Depoimentos de moradores e visitantes, 1553–1958, Ernani Silva Bruno (ed.), 153 f., São Paulo: Prefeitura do Município de São Paulo, 1981, 154.

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Consequently, in December 1900, the New York Times stated: “São Paulo is called the ‘Yankee City of Brazil’. It is a surprise to the travelling American to find among the mountains of southern Brazil a town so thriving and so full of local push and activity as to suggest naturally an American character.”25 Many leading figures in politics and society adopted – or may we talk about another form of appropriation? (see below for a critical perspective) – these everyday practices in the street. Assisted by a corresponding international recognition the Paulanistos developed a new concept of São Paulo. Continuing the “idea of the pioneering spirit of São Paulo” into the present and especially into the future, thereby counting on the enormous economic prosperity in the region, São Paulo was, according to the Brazilian historian Ana Claudia Fonseca Brefe, supposed to appear as “the engine of progress that would lead the country into a modern future”.26 Many disputes in this period sought to naturalize this claim for supremacy: They argued that the province’s special climate, the working and living within special spatial conditions of the Paulista highland led to the progressive character of this “complex and aggressive frontier civilization”.27 In this discourse Affonso Taunay and the Museu paulista (do Ipiranga), which he headed between 1917 and 1945, assumed a leading position.28 Space rather than history had the stronger impact on society in the Paulistanos quest for “identity”. In 1926, Alfredo Ellis Junior wrote in his sociological study, “Raça de gigantes” that “The Paulista highland is a region that is predestined for success and prosperity.”29 At the same time, he found intense selective forces at work along the frontier, on the basis of the maxim that only the fittest have survived to the present day. The elect members of the famous 400-year-old families thus set themselves apart from the newly arrived white as well as black immigrants. Not the collective merging in history but the individual and selective affection by the space can be pinned down as a concept, on which the Paulistanos had wanted to shape their future.

25 “Yankee City of Brazil. Sao Paulo, So-Called for Its Surprising Push and Activity” New York Times, 23/12/1900. In 1913 we find a similar statement in the New York Times: Reyes, Rafael. “Reyes in Sao Paulo, among the ‘Yankees of Brazil’” New York Times, 03/08/1913. 26 Brefe, Ana Claudia Fonseca. O Museu Paulista. Affonso de Taunay e a memória nacional 1917–1945. São Paulo: Museu Paulista/Universidade de São Paulo/UNESP, 2005, 190. 27 Love, São Paulo, 2. 28 See for further information Brefe, Museu Paulista. 29 Ellis Júnior, Alfredo. Raça de gigantes. A civilização no planalto paulista. Estudo da evolução racial anthroposocial e psychicológica do paulista dos seculos 16, 17, e 19, e das mesologias physica e social do planalto, São Paulo: Ed. Helios, 1926, 362.

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5 Appropriating & Dominating Street Life of São Paulo How, in this context, do Lefebvre’s ideas about the appropriation of space provide insight? New immigrants arriving in São Paulo lived in the space in a different manner compared to the tradition of avoiding the public sphere. New mobile inhabitants of the urban space sought to change the former representations of space, the concept of the “static city” (nearly) without public life, and the correspondent dominant representational spaces. The spatial practices of the newly arrived propounded and presupposed the space “in a dialectical interaction” (PS, 38), as Henri Lefebvre would have described it. As suggested above, it was not without conflict, but with the advance of the century the usage of the urban spaces changed, and it changed not only for the poor who had been on the street before but also for people who could be described as middle classes and even for women from higher strata of society – which is to say to nearly all parts of society. With and after international and internal elite recognition, this new form of living and enlivening the city space became the new dominant representational space, a new expression with a corresponding conceptualization. All facets of analysis seem to indicate a social act of appropriation and production of space. Might we say with Lefebvre, this society “produces it [its space] slowly and surely as it masters and appropriates it” (PS, 38)? Again, looking closer to the analysis and its potentials I would like to deal in more detail with the following three aspects. Firstly, there is the question of who the actors of appropriation (and production) of space were. On the one hand, Lefebvre maintained: Every space is already in place before the appearance in it of actors; these actors are collective as well as individual subjects inasmuch as the individuals are always members of groups or classes seeking to appropriate the space in question. (PS, 57)

As one could see already in the first chapters of the article, Lefebvre focused not on individuals, but on societies as actors, on the social production of space by societies. Only a few individuals play a role in his book, as the above-mentioned painters and architects. But, what did society mean to him and in which relation does it stand regarding “its” individuals and to other (sub)groups? He touched upon this question in another context, again incidentally and without further answers or explanations when he was discussing examples for appropriated spaces. Regarding them, he stated: “[…] it is not always easy to decide in what respect, how, by whom and for whom they have been appropriated.” (PS, 165) In the above short discussion of the history of space of São Paulo,

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one could tell the story from very different actors, be they individual or formed in groups, and from different angles. One could look from various individuals, and from different groups, i.e. of women, of immigrants, of the poor, former slaves, etc. or from different social spaces like the city center, parks, the new quarters for the upper classes, and so on. When one calls the new “non-static” way of living in São Paulo an act of (re-)appropriation one has to explain from which perspective. For some, especially for the poor, this wasn’t new, for others it was revolutionary: space became for rich women “diverted, reappropriated and put to a use quite different from its initial one.” A “‘second nature’”, means “the city, urban life, and social energetics” (PS, 368), “the development of the urban sphere” (PS, 387), replaced the first nature. What does this mean and for whom? For some social groups this (re-)appropriation was connected with the possibility of using the urban space, but for others it meant a pushing aside, for instance by forbidding living spaces for the poor in the city center or in the Várzea do Carmo, the wetlands/meadows of the river Carmo. This act of denaturalization of the formerly “wild” meadows into parks by regulating and channeling the rivers and the streets into “rectilinear or rectangular forms” (PS, 165) may mean, to some, an extension of mobility and of potential appropriative acts – or, if you like, an extension of time-space. To other classes, races, or even individuals, it was the opposite, it meant domination and the diminution of time-space, a construction of the possibilities “to ‘do’ something, and hence to ‘create’” (PS, 393). Apparently, it makes a difference who owned and controlled the city, the houses, but also the streets. For Lefebvre, it was the perspective of the social space and of society from which he developed his narrative, and not the one of individuals. Additionally, in his Marxist approach he focused on the conflicts of classes and to a lesser but as well interesting degree on the conflicts of sexes. Sometimes one gets the impression that, according to Lefebvre, only the sub-ordinated are enabled to appropriate space in a correct and that means in a revolutionary manner. Having this in mind, the analysis of appropriation and domination and at the same time also considering their actors may produce new insights into the changes of (city) space – changes not as a given process but as acted out, appropriated by humans. With that, we come to a second critical point to be taken into consideration and as we will see between the first and the second aspect are existing strong interrelations. The concept of nature is, as discussed above, in Lefebvre’s thinking essential for understanding his definition of appropriation. As the “basis of all ‘originality’” (PS, 30) natural space is – following Lefebvre – the only ground for appropriation in its narrow meaning. This and other similar statements hint to an essentialist-materialistic and romantic conception of natural space and nature: Nature is not what particular actors handle as nature, instead it means

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that nature/natural space is, in contrast to social space, not relative, but absolute, a vision of nature that consists of trees, flowers etc. This is clear from Lefebvre’s own perspective, from a Western perspective, as he mentioned in different contexts. The spatial history he was telling is a European one with an emphasis on the European Renaissance, European thinkers and the époque of the explicit Western state and capitalism trying to dominate nature. In this aspect, Lefebvre remained Eurocentric. As one can see from the above mentioned outline of São Paulo’s spatial history, it is hardly possible to maintain that nature meant the same to the people living in São Paulo for many centuries as it did to immigrants arriving from Europe, Asia or those coming from the sugar haciendas from Northern Brazil in the nineteenth century. This São Paulo spatial history can (and must?) be told otherwise. Some interested persons and social groups tried to anchor the “progressive character” of the Paulistanos in the nature of the altiplano (“Raza de gigantes”). They used the nature in another way, naturalizing it with the strategic aim of bringing this seemingly American nature in position against the European concept of history and civilization lived in the coastal cities. Despite his critique on the structuralist space thinking established in Michel Foucault’s early works like “Des espaces autres” (1967, in English “Of Other Spaces”), Lefebvre seems to have used the same heterotopic (and heterochronic) thinking when talking about igloos, traditional Japanese houses, oriental straw huts etc.30 He mentioned them as spaces differentiated from the rationally permeated, Western structures of the state. I would argue that Lefebvre is not only Euro-, but also ‘modernity-centric’. One can see this for example in the city-centered or in the society-based thinking he addressed. Both perspectives had a strong influence in his spatio-temporal thinking. Both aspects (actors and nature) are intrinsically linked to a third point that I would like to address for refining the potentials of space analysis via the complex of appropriation. This third aspect is Lefebvre’s distinction of appropriation of space and appropriation of things in space – and it leads to the introductory as well as to the final question, about Lefebvre’s concept of space. Space seems to be closer to something like a given structure as the exchangeable things in space. For Lefebvre it is more fundamental to appropriate space than to appropriate things in space. But, what is the analytical point of distinguishing both? Where is, for him, the difference for example between buildings as things in space and 30 See for the critique on Foucault’s Westernized, Eurocentric thinking: Stoler, Ann Laura. Race and the Education of Desire: Foucault’s History of Sexuality and the Colonial Order of Things. Durham: Duke University Press Books, 1995; Legg, Stephen “Beyond the European Province: Foucault and Postcolonialism” In: Space, Knowledge and Power: Foucault and Geography, Stuart Elden and Jeremy W. Crampton (eds.), 265–288. Ashgate: Aldershot, 2007.

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buildings like the igloo or the oriental straw hut as space, for example as “indoor space of family life” (PS, 166)? Combining the statements from above, time-space seems to be the crucial point: in contrast to appropriated things in space, appropriated space is where humans (re)vivify it, where they have their time-space, their rhythms – it means where they can live concretely as humans and not as pure rationally subordinated, abstract “sub-systems”. “The supreme good is timespace; this is what ensures the survival of being, the energy that being contains and has at its disposal.” (PS, 350)

References “Yankee City of Brazil. Sao Paulo, So-Called for Its Surprising Push and Activity” New York Times, 23/12/1900. Bastos, Sênia. Na Paulicéia por Conta Própria. 1870–1886. São Paulo: Pontificia Universidade de São Paulo, 1996. Bauer, Jenny. Geschlechterdiskurse um 1900. Literarische Identitätsentwürfe im Kontext deutsch-skandinavischer Raumproduktion. Bielefeld: transcript, 2016. Beattie, Peter M. “The House, the Street, and the Barracks. Reform and Honorable Masculine Social Space in Brazil, 1864 – 1945” Hispanic American Historical Review 76:3 (1996): 439–473. Brefe, Ana Claudia Fonseca. O Museu Paulista. Affonso de Taunay e a memória nacional 1917–1945. São Paulo: Museu Paulista/Universidade de São Paulo/UNESP, 2005. Burnichon, Joseph. “Le Brésil d’aujourd’hui [1910]” In: Memória da cidade de São Paulo. Depoimentos de moradores e visitantes, 1553–1958, Ernani Silva Bruno (ed.), 153–154. São Paulo: Prefeitura do Município de São Paulo, 1981. Curtis, James R. “Praças, Place, and Public Life in Urban Brazil” The Geographical Review 90:4 (2000): 475–492. Dorsch, Sebastian and Michael Wagner. “Gezähmter Dschungel - industrialisierte Agrarwirtschaft - romantisierter Landloser. Die Mystifizierung des Ländlichen in der deagrarisierten Gesellschaft Brasiliens” Geschichte und Gesellschaft 33:4 (2007): 546–574. Dorsch, Sebastian. “Die ‘Yankee City’ São Paulo im verzeitlichten Atlantik: Die Nervenund Modernekrankheit Neurasthenie” In: Brasilien in der Welt. Region, Nation und Globalisierung 1870–1945 (Globalgeschichte 14), Georg Fischer et al. (eds.), 296–319. Frankfurt/M./New York: Campus, 2013. Ellis Júnior, Alfredo. Raça de gigantes. A civilização no planalto paulista. Estudo da evolução racial anthroposocial e psychicológica do paulista dos seculos 16, 17, e 19, e das mesologias physica e social do planalto. São Paulo: Ed. Helios, 1926. Frehse, Fraya. Ô da Rua! O transeunte e o advento da modernidade em São Paulo. São Paulo: EDUSP, 2011. Freyre, Gilberto. Sobrados e mucambos. Decadencia do patriarchado rural no Brasil. São Paulo: Companhia Ed. Nacional, 1936 [trans. The Mansions and the Shanties. The Making of Modern Brazil, Harriet de Onís (trans.). New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1963].

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Lamberg, Moritz. Brasilien. Land und Leute in ethischer, politischer und volkswirtschaftlicher Beziehung und Entwicklung. Leipzig: H. Zieger, 1899. Lauderdale Graham, Sandra. House and Street. The Domestic World of Servants and Masters in Nineteenth-Century Rio de Janeiro. 7th ed. Austin: University of Texas Press, 2006 [1988]. Lefebvre, Henri. The Production of Space, Donald Nicholson-Smith (trans.). Malden/Oxford/ Victoria: Blackwell Publishing, 2012 [1991]. Lefebvre, Henri. La production de l’espace. 3rd ed. Paris: Anthropos, 1986 [1974]. Lefebvre, Henri. Métaphilosophie. Prolégomènes. Paris: Éditions de Minuit, 1965. Legg, Stephen “Beyond the European Province: Foucault and Postcolonialism” In Space, Knowledge and Power: Foucault and Geography, Stuart Elden and Jeremy W. Crampton (eds.), 265–288. Ashgate: Aldershot, 2007. Lombroso-Ferrero, Gina. “Nell’America meridonale [1908]” In: Memória da cidade de São Paulo. Depoimentos de moradores e visitantes, 1553–1958, Ernani Silva Bruno (ed.), 145–146, São Paulo: Prefeitura do Município de São Paulo, 1981. Love, Joseph L. São Paulo in the Brazilian Federation: 1889–1937. Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1980. Odalia, Nilo and João Ricardo de Castro Caldeira (eds.). História do Estado de São Paulo. A formação da unidade paulista. São Paulo: UNESP/Arquivo Público do Estado/Imprensa Oficial, 2010. Pinto, Maria Inez Machado Borges: Cotidiano e sobrevivência. A vida do trabalhador pobre na cidade de São Paulo (1890–1914). São Paulo: EDUSP, 1994. Reyes, Rafael. “Reyes in Sao Paulo, among the ‘Yankees of Brazil’” New York Times, 03/08/1913. Stoler, Ann Laura. Race and the Education of Desire: Foucault’s History of Sexuality and the Colonial Order of Things. Durham: Duke University Press Books, 1995. Wright, Marie Robinson. The New Brazil. Its Resources and Attractions, Historical, Descriptive, and Industrial. 2d ed., Philadelphia: Barrie, 1907 [1901].

Fraya Frehse

On Regressive-Progressive Rhythmanalysis Introduction In this paper I summarize how a particular “(re)reading” of the work by the French sociologist and philosopher Henri Lefebvre may provide methodological contributions to contemporary research as to the role of time in the production/ construction/constitution of urban space (depending on the theoretical approach respectively adopted). Rather than exploring the more well-known space triad, which has been used since the 1980s in empirical studies addressing the production of urban space,1 or its relation to the regressive-progressive method,2 or even its connection with rhythmanalysis,3 my (re)reading chiefly approaches rhythmanalysis and its association with the regressive-progressive method. While the former focuses on an analytical differentiation of the sequential repetitions that permeate and envelop the human body in everyday life, the latter is an operational as well as interpretive approach for analytically identifying and conceptually explaining the possibilities of social transformation in varied empirically given research locations. My statement is that what I call regressive-progressive rhythmanalysis carries at least two major contributions for spatial-temporal researches on the generation of urban space – and here I am especially concerned with establishing a dialogue

1 See, among others, Harvey, David. The Condition of Postmodernity. Oxford/Cambridge: Blackwell, 1989; Soja, Edward. Postmodern Geographies. London/New York: Verso, 1989; Schmid. Christian. Stadt, Raum und Gesellschaft. München: Franz Steiner Verlag, 2005; Löw, Martina. “Die Rache des Körpers über den Raum? Über Henri Lefèbvres Utopie und Geschlechterverhältnisse am Strand” In: Soziologie des Körpers, Markus Schroer (ed.), 241–270. Frankfurt a.M.: Suhrkamp, 2005; Stanek, Łukasz, Ákos Moravánsky and Christian Schmid (eds.). Urban Revolution Now. Surrey: Ashgate, 2014; Fischer, Robert. “Mobility and Morality at the Border – A Lefebvrian Spatio-Temporal Analysis in Early Twentieth-Century Ciudad Juárez and El Paso” Historical Social Research 38:3 (2013): 176–196. 2 See Frehse, Fraya. “For Difference ‘in and through’ São Paulo: The Regressive-Progressive Method” In: Urban Revolution Now: Henri Lefebvre in Social Research and Architecture, Łukasz Stanek, Ákos Moravánsky and Christian Schmid (eds.), 243–262. Surrey: Ashgate, 2014; Bertuzzo, Elisa T. “During the Urban Revolution – Conjunctures on the Streets of Dhaka” In: Urban Revolution Now: Henri Lefebvre in Social Research and Architecture, Łukasz Stanek, Ákos Moravánsky and Christian Schmid (eds.), 49–69. Surrey: Ashgate, 2014. 3 See Fischer, Mobility, 177 f. https://doi.org/10.1515/9783110494983-006

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with some recent efforts to conceptualize spatial transformations in cities with the methodological aid of temporal categories.4 A major trend in these studies is the exploration of how subjective temporal practices of urban space interfere with its generation, and thus the concept of temporality,5 not to mention “life historicity”,6 and Lefebvrean rhythms7 – all of them often in explicit connection with the human bodies that subjectively experience time in various ways in streets, squares and other urban public places.8 Another trend, albeit less frequent,9 addresses how the historical dimension of time – the entanglements between temporal categories that Western common sense names ‘present’, ‘past’ and ‘future’ – becomes manifest in the human bodies that physically move around the public places of those cities and ultimately contribute to urbanization as a process of socio-spatial transformations – more or less contradictory, as Lefebvre would say.10 But how does the historicity of urbanization express itself in the pedestrians’ bodies occupying those streets and squares? This issue remains underdeveloped, although it is crucial when, as has been my case for years, one’s intent is a methodological operationalization of how the temporalities of everyday life, as well as wider historical processes express themselves in the bodies of pedestrians moving in central public spaces in Western megacities such as São Paulo.11 It is precisely at this point where regressive-progressive 4 For an overview regarding accounts publicized as sociological, see Frehse, Fraya. “Relational Space through Historically Relational Time – in the Bodies of São Paulo’s Pedestrians” Current Sociology, 65:4 (2017a): 513–514. Among historical accounts see e.g. Rau, Susanne, “The Urbanization of the Periphery: A Spatio-Temporal History of Lyon since the Eighteenth Century” Historical Social Research 38:3 (2013): 151–152; as to geography see among others Lindón, Alicia. “La construcción socioespacial de la ciudad: el sujeto cuerpo y el sujeto sentimento” Cuerpos, Emociones y Sociedad 1:1 (2009): 6–20; Lindón, Alicia. “Urbane Geographien des alltäglichen Lebens” In: Stadtforschung aus Lateinamerika, Anne Huffschmid and Kathrin Wildner (eds.), 39–79. Bielefeld: Transcript, 2013; Kärrholm, Mattias. “The Square of Events. Rhythmanalyising the Time-Spaces of an Urban Public Place” Lo Squaderno 32 (2014): 9–13; Kärrholm, Mattias. “The Temporality of Territorial Production – The Case of Stortorget, Malmö” Social & Cultural Geography 18:5 (2017): 684–685; Bertuzzo. During the Urban, 49–69. 5 See Lindón, La construcción, 14–16; Lindón, Urbane Geographien, 65; Rau, The Urbanization, 166. 6 Weidenhaus, Gunter. Soziale Raumzeit. Frankfurt a. M.: Suhrkamp, 2015, 36. 7 See Fischer, Mobility, 188 f.; Kärrholm, The Square, 9 f.; Kärrholm, The Temporality, 2, 15 f. 8 See Lindón, La construcción; Fischer, Mobility, 183; Kärrholm, The Temporality, 15. 9 See Frehse, Fraya. “Zeiten im Körper: Das Potenzial der Lefebvre’schen Methode für die (lateinamerikanische) Stadtforschung” In: Stadtforschung aus Lateinamerika, Anne Huffschmid and Kathrin Wildner (eds.), 145–169. Bielefeld: Transcript, 2013a; Bertuzzo, During the Urban, 49–69; Frehse, Relational Space, 511–532. 10 See Lefebvre, Henri. La révolution urbaine. Paris: Gallimard, 1970; see also Schmid, Stadt, 132. 11 See Frehse, Fraya. Ô da Rua! São Paulo: Edusp, 2011; Frehse, Zeiten im Körper; Frehse, For Difference; Frehse, Relational Time.

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rhythmanalysis enters the scene, and provides a double contribution to the set of spatial-temporal approaches to the generation of space: on the one hand, by means of the specific cognitive approach that regressive-progressive rhythmanalysis encourages the researcher to adopt; on the other hand, by means of the research object that the approach invites the scholar to address. Initially presented on other occasions,12 thus far the association between rhythmanalysis and the regressive-progressive method remains underexplored not only in Lefebvrean studies themselves, but also in works addressing the relationship between time and the production of (urban) space13 – despite the fact that there is no lack of interpretations regarding rhythmanalysis or the regressive-progressive method. Or, better stated, comparatively speaking, studies that address the first tool are more common. In turn, the regressive-progressive method remains, above all, a niche interest of sociology in France and Brazil.14 In order to develop my argument, this essay consists of three sections. First, I shall clarify what rhythmanalysis means and how it articulates itself within academic research on Lefebvre’s oeuvre. This will underline the peculiarity of my proposal, whose empirical relevance I shall subsequently demonstrate. To this end, in the second section, I shall resort to empirical data on my São Paulo research about the human bodies that nowadays move past or physically remain in the streets and squares of the city’s historically oldest perimeter, in order to disclose what they reveal about the historical dynamics of sociocultural changes in this contemporary Latin American megacity. The concluding section will summarize that regressive-progressive rhythmanalysis firstly informs the researcher about the cognitive relevance of practicing a historical and anthropological estrangement of the body rhythms of both the researcher and the subjects that surround him or her in the streets and public squares, when the purpose is to analytically apprehend clues of historical transformations in cities implicit in everyday life. Furthermore, the approach encourages the researcher interested in the relations between time and space in the

12 See Frehse, Fraya. “Quando os ritmos corporais dos pedestres nos espaços públicos urbanos revelam ritmos da urbanização” Civitas 16:1 (2016): 100–118. This paper, in turn, is a translated and reviewed version of my paper “When Pedestrians’ Body Rhythms Disclose Rhythms of Urbanization”, which was given on 19/03/15 at the Conference “Technospaces. Persistence – Practices – Procedures – Power” at the Technische Universität Darmstadt. I thank Jenny Bauer for the invitation for this event, which was the starting point for the reflections upon which this chapter aims to advance. 13 See note 4. 14 See Frehse, Zeiten, 149 f.

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production of the urban space to tackle a singular research object: the historicity of the rules of body behaviour in urban public spaces.

1 Rhythmanalysis in Lefebvrean Thought In the last thirty years of his long life, Lefebvre referred to rhythmanalysis with relative consistency. The second volume of the Critique de la vie quotidienne contains an allusion to “sociological rhythmology or ‘rhythmanalysis’”, followed by a footnote with the following indication: ‘[t]erm borrowed from Gaston Bachelard”.15 The latter, in turn, in Dialectique de la durée,16 wrote that he borrowed the concept from Portuguese philosopher Lúcio Alberto Pinheiro dos Santos,17 for whom, according to one commentator, the analysis of physiological rhythms could cure mental depression or apathy.18 After this first citation in Lefebvre’s work, the term reappears at least in La production de l’espace,19 in La présence et l’absence,20 and in the third volume of Critique de la vie quotidienne.21 Such works are prior to two articles published together with his last wife22 and the posthumously published book Éléments de rythmanalyse23 – including a sort of digression in the form of an article with Cathérine Régulier from 1968 – which are solely dedicated to the subject. In his monographic treatise on rhythmanalysis, Lefebvre defined it as “science, a new domain of knowledge: the analysis of rhythms”.24 These, in turn, would be made up of the dialectical relations between cyclical repetitions (stemming from the “cosmic, nature: days, nights, seasons, oceanic waves and 15 Lefebvre, Henri. Critique de la vie quotidienne. Vol. II. Paris: L’Arche Éditeur, 1961, 233. All the translations from languages other than English are my own. 16 Bachelard, Gaston. La dialectique de la durée. Paris: Presses universitaires de France, 1950. 17 Baptista, Pedro. O Filósofo Fantasma: Lúcio Pinheiro dos Santos. Sintra: Zéfiro, 2010. 18 See Meyer, Kurt. “Rhythms, Streets, Cities” In: Space, Difference, Everyday Life, Kanishka Goonewardena, Stefan Kipfer, Richarld Milgram and Christian Schmid (eds.), 147–160. New York/ London: Routledge, 2008, 147. 19 Lefebvre, Henri. La production de l’espace. Paris: Anthropos, 2000 [1974]. 20 Lefebvre, Henri. La présence et l’absence. Contributions à la théorie des représentations. Paris: Casterman, 1980. 21 Lefebvre, Henri. Critique de la vie quotidienne: Vol. III. Paris: L’Arche Éditeur, 1981. 22 Lefebvre, Henri and Cathérine Régulier. “Le projet rythmanalytique” Communications 41 (1985): 191–199; Lefebvre, Henri and Cathérine Régulier. ”Rythmanalyses des villes méditerranéennes [1986]” In: Éléments de rythmanalyse, Henri Lefebvre, 97–109. Paris: Syllepse, 1992. 23 Lefebvre, Henri. Éléments de rythmanalyse. Paris: Syllepse, 1992. 24 See Lefebvre, Éléments, 11.

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tides, monthly cycles, etc.”) and linear repetitions (deriving from “social practices, thus from human activity: the monotony of actions and gestures, imposed frameworks”), which in “reality” – as Lefebvre emphasizes – constantly interfere with each other, but which analysis would disassociate.25 Hence a crucial question: how do we investigate rhythms? Two complementary paths would coexist: a comparison between concrete cases concerning body rhythms (of living beings or otherwise); or stemming from notions, from abstract categories.26 All this for an objective that Lefebvre made explicit with Régulier: “We shall demonstrate the relations between everyday life and rhythms, that is, the concrete modalities of social life.”27 In fact, the reference point lies in the notion of everyday life as a “level of social reality”28 explored by Lefebvre during the course of his intellectual trajectory. Being “simultaneously the most visible and indiscernible side of social practice, where banality and depth coexist, for it is about existence and the ‘lived’ not speculatively transcribed”,29 everyday life is a historical product. Hence, “the everyday” (“le quotidien” in the original French formulation) is a way of life historically typical to societies whose day-to-day existence, with the advent of modernity, became engulfed by the contradictions of programming and calculation steered by the market, the system of equivalences, and marketing and advertising. This includes the extreme dialectical moment, no less rife with contradictions, signalled by “the everydayness” (“la quotidienneté”), a notion that underlines the homogeneous, repetitive, fragmentary dimension of everyday life.30 Indeed, the preface to the first revised volume of Critique de la vie quotidienne explicitly mentions the existence of a “critical program” founded on the critique of alienation in capitalism in the second post-war period.31 In theoretical terms, it was about updating the Marxian postulations on the subject in order to understand the social reality of the second half of the twentieth century. In other words, an attempt to grasp the possibilities for a historical transformation of this reality amid the growing prevalence of reproductive mechanisms in everyday life.

25 See Lefebvre, Éléments, 16 f.; emphasis in original. 26 See Lefebvre, Éléments, 13. 27 See Lefebvre and Régulier, Le projet, 191. 28 See Lefebvre, Critique. Vol. II, 56. 29 See Lefebvre, Henri. Critique de la vie quotidienne. Vol. I. Paris: L’Arche Éditeur, 1958 [1947], 56 and 52. 30 See Lefebvre, Henri. “Henri Lefebvre” In: Entrevistas ao Le Monde: Idéias Contemporâneas, Olivier Corpet and Thierry Paquot (eds.), Maria Lúcia Blumer (transl.), 134. São Paulo: Ática, 1989 [1972], 134. 31 See Lefebvre, Critique. Vol. I, 68.

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How do we empirically access the rhythms that pervade everyday life? In Éléments de rythmanalyse, Lefebvre outlines the basic methodological procedures. The analysis rests on “isolating from the organized whole a particular movement and its rhythm”,32 a procedure which, in turn, demands from the “rhythmanalyst” a defined attitude: to make one’s body into a metronome, hence a special kind of parameter for “listening” to the bodies of others in search of the mutual integration of the outside and the inside of these same bodies.33 Indeed, the experience and knowledge of the body are the foundations of rhythmanalysis, as summarized in the book’s conclusion.34 Driven by these instructions, all of which are presented in the first two chapters of the book, the remaining five and the conclusive digression present different rhythmanalytical exercises regarding defined knowledge objects involving the author in his day-to-day life in late twentieth-century Europe: a Parisian street, the training of bodies, the media, music, Mediterranean cities. As I see it, this explicit focus on spaces and times of everyday life in the 1980s, by reference to the human body, has contributed significantly to a certain pattern in the reception of rhythmanalysis in urban studies. As far as I can tell, the (few) authors who have delved into such approach ground themselves precisely on this emphasis by Lefebvre, in order to recognize, in rhythmanalysis, a conceptual contribution to the question of everyday life in the capitalist world of the late twentieth century. Inspired by the final two volumes of Critique de la vie quotidienne,35 in addition to the previously mentioned three treatises on rhythmanalysis – and which he co-translated into English – the geographer Stuart Elden underlines in his introduction to Rhythmanalysis36 the importance of these works for a more precise understanding of the notion of everyday (its “dual sense” of mundane and repetitive, in English and French) as well as a reflection on the union and separation of space and time. Furthermore, he considers Lefebvre’s three specific works on rhythmanalysis as evidence of his concern with the “contrast” between the capitalist system and the everyday life of individuals. By relying on similar sources, the philosopher Kurt Meyer, on the other hand, considers that rhythmanalytical studies lead to the “core” of Lefebvre’s critique of everyday life; that

32 See Lefebvre, Éléments, 27. 33 See Lefebvre, Éléments, 32, and Lefebvre and Régulier, Le projet, 195. 34 See Lefebvre, Éléments, 91. 35 See Lefebvre, Critique. Vol. II; Lefebvre, Critique. Vol. III. 36 See Elden, Stuart. “Rhythmanalysis: An Introduction” In: Elements of Rhythmanalysis, Henri Lefebvre, Stuart Elden and Gerald Moore (transl.), ix-x. London/New York: Continuum, 2004.

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is, “the analyses on the temporal ordering of rhythms in everyday life”.37 These would investigate the continuity of rhythmic time in the linear temporal flux of modern industrial society, and how both times interfere with each other. In turn, sociologist Carlos Fortuna emphasizes, based upon the Éléments de rythmanalyse and La production de l’espace, the innovative nature of Lefebvre’s “conviction” that sensory experience in everyday life is inseparable from external stimuli, from the “material world of objects”.38 Lastly, historian Robert Fischer applies Lefebvre’s notion of rhythm to the space triad presented in La production de l’espace, by arguing that empirically given contradictions between linear and cyclical rhythms may be best depicted in analytical terms in lived space.39 My statement focuses precisely on the reception pattern of Lefebvre’s perspective. When, rather than conceptually associating rhythmanalysis to the author’s specific works, but instead connecting it with his theoretical and methodological considerations about his transductive mode of thought scattered among several publications across decades, what we find at the forefront is the methodological role in an approach for apprehending the historically possible social transformations in everyday life. In fact, transduction is the epistemological foundation of Lefebvre’s oeuvre. Transduction was first mentioned in Logique formelle, logique dialectique,40 which was published in the same year as the first volume of Critique de la vie quotidienne. However, perhaps the most accomplished synthesis of transduction can be found in the subsequent volume of the trilogy: it “goes from the real (given) to the possible”, that is, “it constructs a virtual object from information, arriving at the solution from the data”.41 As a dialectical Marxist, Lefebvre always sought out the historical possibilities of the production of social innovations within a reality that he conceived as an open and contradictory totality, and whose limits for innovation lay precisely in contradictions of a past not yet overcome, a past that the present carried at the level of everyday life. Human praxis, after all, is essentially contradictory: innovative, mimetic, and repetitive. In light of these references, one may understand why the critique of everyday life is a lifelong project, and why, according to his friend Armand Ajzenberg, Lefebvre considered Éléments de rythmanalyse the fourth volume of his “critique

37 Meyer, Rhythms, 147 f. 38 See Fortuna, Carlos. “(Micro)territorialidades: metáfora dissidente do social” Terr@Plural 6:2 (2012): 199–214, here 203 f. 39 See Fischer, Mobility, 189. 40 Lefebvre, Henri. Lógica Formal, Lógica Dialética, Carlos Nelson Coutinho (transl.). Rio de Janeiro: Civilização Brasileira, 1983 [1947], 15. 41 See Lefebvre, Critique. Vol. II, 121.

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of everyday life”.42 Decisive for my current essay, however, is the fact that, as a sociologist, Lefebvre was not wholly satisfied with the philosophical nature of transduction. His oeuvre also conveys a constant commitment to operationalize, methodologically speaking, his transductive way of thinking. The major outcome in this sense is the regressive-progressive method, first presented in an article in 195343 and whose procedure Lefebvre since adopted for several empirical “fields” of research, ranging from defined cities to the “field of representations”, as well as to the production of space.44 Both facets of this method, the investigative and the interpretive, are found in three dialectical procedures. The first moment is descriptive, followed by an analytical historical dating of the material as well as immaterial elements found in any empirical field of research. We then arrive at a third moment, that is, the identification of the existing historical contradictions within this social reality in order to analytically indicate the possibilities for social transformations therein. When we consider the methodological dimension of Lefebvre’s oeuvre as a whole, rhythmanalysis appears as knowledge about the rhythms of everyday life that is based on a well-defined type of analysis of such an object. But the author, however, never explicitly stated it as such. Given that cyclical and linear rhythms are so fundamental to the critique of everyday life, Lefebvre often dated them historically for analytical purposes: cyclical repetitions prevail in the pre-capitalist world, whereas the analysis of the abstract, quantitative time of the capitalist clock emphasizes linear repetitions, although both coexist in mutual interference within the contradictory and open totality that is empirical reality.45 From this standpoint, I would like to argue here that rhythmanalysis is invariably regressive-progressive; it presumes, in operational terms, the regressiveprogressive method. While Lefebvre never made this connection explicit, he did make operational use of it at various points in his oeuvre. The first reference to rhythmanalysis happens in the context of a reflection on the interaction between times and 42 See Ajzenberg, Armand. “À partir d’Henri Lefebvre, vers un mode de production écologiste”. Paper at the Colloquium “Traces de futurs. Henri Lefebvre: le possible et le quotidien”. Paris, 1994 [unpublished manuscript], 5. 43 Lefebvre, Henri. “Perspectives de sociologie rurale” In: Du rural à l’urbain, Henri Lefebvre, 63–78. Paris: Anthropos, 2001 [1953]. 44 See Frehse, For Difference, 246. 45 See for example Lefebvre, Critique. Vol. II, 55; Lefebvre, Henri. La vie quotidienne dans le monde moderne. Paris: Gallimard, 1968, 78; Lefebvre, La production, 138–142; Lefebvre, La présence, 31 and 181; Lefebvre, Critique. Vol. III, 130; Lefebvre and Régulier, Le projet, 193; Lefebvre and Régulier, Rythmanalyses, 100.

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spaces in the historically specific way of life that is everyday life: the approach “strives to categorize periodicities and study their relationships and intersections”.46 A few years later, in turn, we find an indirect reference to the connection between rhythmanalysis and the regressive-progressive method. The “critique of everyday life” should demonstrate “historically the constitution and formation of the everydayness”, among others, “the separation of ‘man-nature’, the displacement of rhythms, the rise of nostalgia [...], the deterioration of drama, or rather, of the tragic and temporality”.47 A decisive element in the possibility of a critique of everyday life seems to be, among others, that rhythms hold clues of their underlying historical processes. Rhythmanalysis is explicitly mentioned once again when the investigative gaze turns to the production of space as the central historical process of modernity; and again in connection with the apprehension of historical transformations – “in and through” the space that is the human body itself in everyday life, considering that for Lefebvre both “every living body is a space and has its space”, and “social relations only have real existence in and through space”.48 Moreover, since “social time is produced and reproduced through space; but this social time is reintroduced with its traits and determinations; repetitions, rhythms, cycles, activities”,49 then “(scientific) knowledge about the use of spaces” is invariably linked to the “analysis of rhythms, the effective critique of representative and normative spaces”.50 In effect, rhythmanalysis “completes the exhibition [l’exposé] of the production of space”.51 In 1980, another research object gained prominence: the “non-philosophical representations”52 that emerge in everyday life. Rhythmanalysis can also be useful for grasping the “presence of the absent”: cyclical rhythms lie beneath the qualitative use of the body and, therefore, presence; linear rhythms, in turn, “only imprint a feeling of absence that invades the everyday”.53 And so, in the third volume of Critique de la vie quotidienne, the approach is acknowledged for the first time as “new science in the making”.54 However, we

46 See Lefebvre, Critique. Vol. II, 232 f. 47 See Lefebvre, La vie, 78; emphasis added. 48 See Lefebvre, La production, 199 and 465; emphasis in original. 49 See Lefebvre, La production, 392. 50 See Lefebvre, La production, 412. 51 See Lefebvre, La production, 465. 52 See Lefebvre, La présence, 147–184. 53 See Lefebvre, La présence, 181. 54 See Lefebvre, Critique. Vol. III, 130.

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still find the author’s connections with the critique of everyday life as a historical process: From the organization of work – divided and composed, measured and quantified – quantification won society as a whole, contributing to the implementation of the mode of production [...]. The qualitative has almost disappeared. But here, once again, the ‘almost’ gains chief importance.55

Lefebvre recognized the specific dynamics of rhythms as a trait of contemporary society: “the crushing of rhythms and natural times by linearity” is a “situation” that engenders a need for rhythms expressed in the rhythmic innovations found in music and dance.56 Lastly, four years later, the first article entirely devoted to the “rythmanalythical project” appeared, followed by the aforementioned two monographs. If, in such context, the theoretical foundations of the methodological procedures of rhythmanalysis gain importance, the argumentative structure of all such works continues to associate certain historical transformations of capitalist society in the cities with rhythms. Given this theoretical and methodological trajectory, which I have merely outlined, I hope it will become easier to acknowledge that rhythmanalysis favours the empirical apprehension as to how the possibilities for social transformation appear in the everyday life of contemporary cities. Thus, the regressive-progressive dimension implicit within rhythmanalysis becomes decisive. Nevertheless, a question remains open: how is the methodological potential of regressive-progressive rhythmanalysis achieved in practice? In my personal search for answers I found it suitable to analytically approach the bodies of pedestrians in the public streets and squares in downtown São Paulo.

2 What Do Pedestrians’ Body Rhythms Reveal about the Rhythms of Urbanization? By understanding urbanization in Lefebvrean terms, that is, as a set of contradictory processes that encompass the economic, social, and cultural dimensions of the geographical expansion of cities,57 I would like to address, based on the 55 See Lefebvre, Critique Vol. III, 130; emphasis in original. 56 See Lefebvre, Critique Vol. III, 134 f. 57 See Lefebvre. La révolution; see also Schmid, Stadt, 132.

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ethnographic data from my current research project,58 the following question from a rhythmanalytical inspiration: Which different characteristics regarding contemporary urbanization come to the foreground when, as a “regressive-progressive rhythmanalytical” researcher, one’s body becomes a metronome in the public places of the historical birthplace of this megacity with over 12 million inhabitants (and the heart of a metropolitan region home to over 20 million inhabitants)? I refer here to the Lefebvre’s stance of making the researcher’s own body the decisive parameter for apprehending the rhythms of other bodies in favour of a reciprocal integration of the outside and the inside – only in this case in pursuit of differences that become evident in São Paulo’s urbanization process when one relates it with contemporary urbanization as an ongoing historical process all over the globe, and which I understand as an open and contradictory totality. It was precisely the anthropological estrangement of the São Paulo downtown streets and squares that resulted from this methodological approach that inspired me at a different time.59 What I mean by estrangement is the ethnographic dialectics within the epistemological process of making the strange familiar and the familiar strange during all the phases of empirical research.60 Indeed the aim was to sociologically and anthropologically explore, based on documentary research, the onset of a modernity historically typical to Western Europe in a city that until the mid-nineteenth century was still grounded on slavery, intensely rural, and home to circa thirty thousand inhabitants (including the rural zone). But the regressive-progressive rhythmanalysis of the body rhythms of pedestrians in the streets and squares of São Paulo’s oldest urbanized nucleus – currently known as Centro Velho on the so-called historical hill – between 1808 and 1917 led me to a crucial point for the question mentioned in the previous paragraph. It encouraged me to estrange my own body rhythms in the contemporary São Paulo public places in comparison with the ones of this city’s nineteenth-century past. Hence the discovery that the passer-by, as the essence of the modern urban type (with its own variations commonplace for Western Europe the dandy, the flâneur, etc.) – therefore a type of pedestrian which I personally identify with in bodily terms in the streets and squares of any city – is a very specific temporal and spatial sociocultural invention. The passer-by corresponds to a very particular way of using one’s body through gestures and postures: one physically passes by streets and squares, whereas a stop just happens in a fleeting way, as a more or less quick 58 Frehse, Fraya. “The Bodily Production of Urban Space in Twenty-First Century São Paulo” National Council for Scientific and Technological Development (CNPq) Research Project (n. 313285/2017-9), 2017. 59 See Frehse, Ô da Rua!. 60 See Frehse, Ô da Rua!, 34.

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pause before/after the next/last body behaviour of passing-by. But a decisive element for the characterization of the passer-by is that this “body technique”, in accordance with Marcel Mauss,61 takes place in a defined, regular rhythm, linear in nature and corresponding to the rhythms of work and leisure of the passer-by. Thus, in rhythmanalytical terms what particularizes the passer-by is the regular physical passing by urban streets and squares. From a regressive-progressive standpoint, this body behaviour is inseparable from the nineteenth-century modernity in Western Europe, that is, from a social and cultural reality strongly grounded on the simultaneous belief and critique that everything and everyone is transient, fashionable, and “modern”.62 The regular physical passing-by, or circulation, through São Paulo’s central streets and squares started to establish itself as a norm of civility with an increasing empirical scope from the 1880s, with the final crisis in African slavery in the country (it was officially abolished in 1888). Hence circulation’s protagonist, the passer-by, even became a photographic subject within this context – we might just consider the human shapes fleetingly passing by both the left sidewalk and the street’s right-hand, in the lower half of the following photograph (Figure 1). Until then, the streets and squares of downtown São Paulo had been essentially places for regular physical permanence and, depending on the occasion, the gathering of certain types of pedestrians – especially of people who, involved in the work and sociability of manual labour, were often captured by the heavy photographic cameras of the era while standing (Figure 2), sitting or even lying in front of some door sill,63 perhaps in front of one of the various artisans’ workshops that coexisted in that area of the still slave-based city (Figure 3). I refer here to men, women, and children, who were either captive, manumitted, or poor freemen. In turn, among the members of the seigniorial stratum – holding great social prestige in the city at the time – there were other implicit rhythms within the set of body techniques in the streets of São Paulo: the exceptional or periodic physical passing-by or gathering of men, women and children of the elite within the context of several Goffmanian “ceremonial” occasions, i.e. of “wider social affair[s]” made of rules that convey the symbolic appreciation one individual

61 Mauss, Marcel. “Les techniques du corps [1936]” In: Anthropologie et sociologie, Marcel Mauss, 363–386, Paris: Quadrige/Puf 1997 [1950]. 62 See Lefebvre, Henri. Introduction à la modernité. Paris: Éditions de Minuit, 1962, 10. 63 See Frehse, Fraya. “O começo do fim da São Paulo caipira” In: Militão Augusto de Azevedo, Rubens, Fernandes Jr., Heloisa Barbuy, Fraya Frehse and Henrique Siqueira (eds.), 50–73. São Paulo: Cosac Naify, 2012, here 61 and 58.

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Figure 1: Militão A. de Azevedo, Medium shot from the street-level of what is presently known as Rua 15 de Novembro, 1887 [Source: Album Comparativo da Cidade de São Paulo 1862–1887/ Arquivo do Estado de São Paulo]

therein makes of other participants of the occasions.64 In nineteenth-century São Paulo, such ceremonial occasions were implicit in the frequent weekly “payment” of visits to relatives or acquaintances. Furthermore, there were the sporadic religious and civil festivities that also governed the city’s day-to-day (Figure 4). Based on such observations about the nineteenth-century past of downtown São Paulo, I began to stroll along the same streets and squares during afternoon business hours (from 2:00 to 7:00 p.m. during workdays) of the 2010s in search of clues as to how historical processes become evident in everyday life and, more so, point to characteristics of contemporary urbanization in São Paulo. What surprised me was not – unlike what was the city’s most urbanized area during the nineteenth century – the currently numerous passers-by (Figure 5). What caught my attention the most was the multiplicity of what I have been terming non-passers-by.65 They were the ones who challenged me conceptually

64 See respectively Goffman, Erving. Behavior in Public Places. Toronto: Collier-Macmillan, 1963, 18; Goffman, Erving. Interaction Ritual. Garden City: Anchor Books, 1967, 54. 65 See Frehse, Fraya. “Os tempos (diferentes) do uso das praças da Sé em Lisboa e em São Paulo” In Diálogos Urbanos: Territórios, culturas, patrimónios, Carlos Fortuna and Rogerio Proença Leite (eds.), 127–173. Coimbra: Almedina, 2013b, here 135.

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Figure 2: Militão A. de Azevedo, Medium shot from the street-level of a street presently integrating São Paulo’s cathedral square, c. 1862 [Source: Collection Jamil Nassif Abib]

as to the different traits of the present-day urbanization, given that the sociological literature on contemporary Western metropolises commonly associates streets with spaces of mobility and the hastened flow of pedestrians and vehicles66 (Figures 6–8). Whether artists or artisans, street vendors or street preachers, as well as self-appointed street-dwellers, retired or unemployed people of varying ages and genders, in the midst of the transit either of passers-by – whether fleetingly rushing or pausing natives or foreigners –, of vehicles, and public transportation, these pedestrians of varying socioeconomic, sociocultural, and socio-spatial backgrounds unknowingly share a defined set of body techniques and body rhythms. They remain there physically in linear regularity, whether for the purpose of economic survival or for the sake of social bonds therein reactivated from day to day. At 7:00 p.m., when the stores close their doors and the public hostels have already opened theirs, not just passers-by but also the plethora of non-passers-by disappear from São Paulo’s downtown streets and public squares.

66 See, among others, Urry, John. Mobilities. Cambridge: Polity, 2007.

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Figure 3: Militão A. de Azevedo, Medium shot from the street-level of the alleyway in presentday Rua José Bonifácio (left) and of what is presently known as Rua de São Francisco (right), c. 1862 [Source: Collection Jamil Nassif Abib]

Figure 4: Militão A. de Azevedo, Medium shot from the street-level of what is presently known as the Pátio do Colégio, the oldest São Paulo square, on a day of civic festivity, c. 1862 [Source: Album Comparativo da Cidade de São Paulo 1862–1887/Arquivo do Estado de São Paulo]

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Figure 5: Fraya Frehse, Open shot from the street-level of São Paulo’s Roman Catholic Metropolitan Cathedral on the northeast side of the cathedral square, Monday 21 October 2013 [Source: Private Collection]

Only those who, out of necessity or desire to sleep there, remain physically and regularly on the streets and alleyways at night. When, in light of this empirical scenario, the analytical focus falls on the rules of social interaction that make historically possible the re-production of this street society in São Paulo’s oldest urbanized perimeter during working day business hours, we may recognize that cyclical repetitions condition the day-to-day linear rhythm of regular physical permanence in that space. Fatigue transforms the squares and sidewalks into a bench, a wall or a public sculpture into beds. Moreover, in an attempt to cope with growing hunger, there is nothing like the necessary ingredients gathered via buying

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Figure 6: Fraya Frehse, Close shot from the street-level of a musician in Rua 15 de Novembro, Thursday 22 November 2012 [Source: Private Collection]

or begging, and a small campfire on the same wall. The nearby cops do not seem to bother... In short, what Lefebvre considers a bodily, qualitative use of space, conditioned by cyclical rhythms, is true in such public places urbanistically conceived for the linear body rhythms of the passer-by during business hours. And all of this takes place amid the incisiveness of linear body rhythms of people passing by, and of stopping pedestrians of native or foreign origin right there and then.

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Figure 7: Fraya Frehse, Medium shot from the street-level of the northeast side of São Paulo’s cathedral square, Wednesday 20 April 2011 [Source: Private Collection]

These empirical data reinforce the impression that, at least during the daytime workdays, this rhythmic dialectic is a vital element in São Paulo’s downtown public streets and squares. There and then, the passer-by is definitely not hegemonic. In the daytime street society of São Paulo’s historic downtown in the second decade of the twenty-first century, linear and cyclical repetitions seem to coexist in absolute indifference to the periodic disciplinary pressures of the public power and the police, which in the current context of economic globalization, whether voluntarily or involuntarily, fit into a specific political conception typical of so-called gentrification – the urban requalification of specific areas in cities, particularly the historically older urbanization nuclei, for the purposes of tourism, housing, or consumption by higher income groups.67

67 For a summary on the debate about the issue, see Rubino, Silvana. “Enobrecimento urbano” In: Plural de Cidade: Novos léxicos urbanos, Carlos Fortuna and Rogerio Proença Leite (eds.), 25–40. Coimbra: Almedina, 2009.

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Figure 8: Fraya Frehse, Medium shot from the balcony-level of a banking building westward from the far north of São Paulo’s cathedral square, Wednesday 20 April 2011 [Source: Private Collection]

In an attempt to explain the “commercial and useful” incisiveness of this conjunction of rhythms, Lefebvre offers an answer: “[…] every rhythm implies the relation of a time to a space, a localized time or, if we prefer, a temporalized place. Rhythm is always connected to this or that place, to your place.”68 By mobilizing the historical estrangement implicit in the regressive-progressive method and hence by historically dating the body behaviour pattern that I call regular physical permanence in the downtown streets and squares of contemporary São Paulo during daytime workdays, we are able to recognize its intriguing similarity with other modes of body behaviour, which prevailed during daytime in the streets and squares of the same area in slave-based nineteenth-century São Paulo. The same holds true even though contemporary pedestrians are clearly very diverse, not to mention the socioeconomic, technical, and sociocultural mediations that make it historically possible for such pedestrians to coexist socially in São Paulo’s downtown streets and squares during daytime. From the point of view of the

68 See Lefebvre, Éléments, 99.

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body rhythm of the contemporary non-passers-by, these same streets and places remain peculiarly close to that past – remembering, and following Lefebvre, that place is a “level of social space” discernible through the “words of everyday discourse,” which, in turn, correspond to a certain use of the space, a spatial practice that such words say and compose.69 Based on these regressive-progressive rhythmanalytical findings, the temporal density of the body rhythms of non-passers-by suggests a process of urbanization that, at least at the level of the “business and workday” everyday in the public places of downtown São Paulo, is strongly conditioned by pre-modern rhythms. In this light, at least during daytime the city mainly transforms itself insofar as its historically central public places reproduce themselves day by day. And this in the midst of the periodic accumulation of supposedly innovative political-administrative and urbanistic measures, which precisely go against the rules of body behaviour that mediate the regular physical permanence of non-passers-by in such places.

Final Considerations Regardless of their differing theoretical and methodological standpoints, recent studies addressing how time interferes with the production of urban space end up pointing out the conceptual importance of empirically given both spatial and temporal practices in everyday life. It is through these practices that “spatiality and temporality”70 are produced, and hence also urban space. What is less emphasized is how the historical dimension of time – the entanglement between temporal categories Western common sense names ‘present’, ‘past’ and ‘future’ – manifests itself in these researched practices, and hence in the production of urban space. Regressive-progressive rhythmanalysis hopes to be an appropriate methodological tool for tackling this issue. Indeed, it bears at least two methodological contributions for this type of research. The approach suggests, firstly, the cognitive importance of the anthropological and historical estrangement of the body rhythms of both the researcher and the surrounding pedestrians in the public streets and squares, when what matters is the analytical comprehension of the historical possibilities implicit in urban everyday life. In this particular case, anthropological estrangement allows 69 See Lefebvre, La production, 108, 23 f. 70 Dorsch, Sebastian. “Space/Time Practices and the Production of Space and Time. An Introduction” Historical Social Research 38:3 (2013): 7–21, here 14.

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the researcher to recognize his sociocultural similarities and differences from the surrounding pedestrians in the analysed public places. Historical estrangement, in turn, allows the researcher to recognize that at least some of his or her own and others’ body rhythms bear an unforeseen historical dimension: they are historical products. Indeed, even in research on historical matters, body rhythms matter precisely as factors for a methodological problematization of how human beings, in their everyday lives, contribute to the production of the urban space by the mediation of their bodies. Secondly, regressive-progressive rhythmanalysis invites scholars exploring the influence of time in the production of urban space to tackle a peculiar investigative object: the historicity of body behaviour rules in urban public places. If, in addition to their innumerable definitions, cities as forms of specific human settlements are marked by the presence of spaces of passing by and of the physical gathering of pedestrians, which are signified as endowed with the broadest possible accessibility – whether legal, physical, material, or informational71 –, then uncovering the temporalities implicit in the rules of the pedestrians’ body behaviour reveals the distinct historical temporalities that therein bodily live and contribute, through the mediation of such bodies, to the urbanization rhythms of that place. These two dimensions, while embedded within a Lefebvrean perspective, were rarely stressed by the author as such. To discover the reason behind this parsimony, however, would go beyond the limits of this essay.

References Ajzenberg, Armand. “À partir d’Henri Lefebvre, vers un mode de production écologiste”. Paper at the Colloquium “Traces de futurs. Henri Lefebvre: le possible et le quotidien”. Paris, 1994 [unpublished manuscript]. Bachelard, Gaston. La dialectique de la durée. Paris: Presses universitaires de France, 1950. Baptista, Pedro. O Filósofo Fantasma: Lúcio Pinheiro dos Santos. Sintra: Zéfiro, 2010. Bertuzzo, Elisa T. “During the Urban Revolution – Conjunctures on the Streets of Dhaka”. In: Urban Revolution Now: Henri Lefebvre in Social Research and Architecture, Łukasz. Stanek, Ákos Moravánsky and Christian Schmid (eds.), 49–69. Surrey: Ashgate, 2014. Dorsch, Sebastian. “Space/Time Practices and the Production of Space and Time. An Introduction” Historical Social Research 38:3 (2013): 7–21.

71 See among others Lofland, Lyn. A World of Strangers. Prospect Heights: Waveland Press, 1985 [1973], 19; Klamt, Martin. “Öffentliche Räume” In: Handbuch Stadtsoziologie, Frank Eckart (ed.), 775–804. Wiesbaden: Springer, 2012, here 779; Harding, Alan and Talja Blokland. Urban Theory. Los Angeles/London/New Delhi/Singapore/Washington DC: Sage, 2014, 187 f.

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Elden, Stuart. “Rhythmanalysis: An Introduction” In: Elements of Rhythmanalysis, Henri Lefebvre, Stuart Elden and Gerald Moore (transl.), vii–xv. London/New York: Continuum, 2004. Fischer, Robert. “Mobility and Morality at the Border – A Lefebvrian Spatio-Temporal Analysis in Early Twentieth-Century Ciudad Juárez and El Paso” Historical Social Research 38:3 (2013): 176–196. Fortuna, Carlos. “(Micro)territorialidades: metáfora dissidente do social” Terr@Plural 6:2 (2012): 199–214. Frehse, Fraya. Ô da rua! O transeunte e o advento da modernidade em São Paulo. São Paulo: Edusp, 2011. Frehse, Fraya. “O começo do fim da São Paulo caipira”, In Militão Augusto de Azevedo, Rubens Fernandes Jr., Heloisa Barbuy, Fraya Frehse and Henrique Siqueira (eds.), 50–73. São Paulo: Cosac Naify, 2012. Frehse, Fraya. “Zeiten im Körper: Das Potenzial der Lefebvre’schen Methode für die (lateinamerikanische) Stadtforschung”, In Stadtforschung aus Lateinamerika, Anne Huffschmid and Kathrin Wildner (eds.), 145–169. Bielefeld: Transcript, 2013a. Frehse, Fraya. “Os tempos (diferentes) do uso das praças da Sé em Lisboa e em São Paulo” In Diálogos Urbanos: Territórios, culturas, patrimónios, Carlos Fortuna and Rogerio Proença Leite (eds.), 127–173. Coimbra: Almedina, 2013b. Frehse, Fraya. “For Difference ‘in and through’ São Paulo: The Regressive-Progressive Method” In Urban Revolution Now: Henri Lefebvre in Social Research and Architecture, Łukasz Stanek, Ákos Moravánsky and Christian Schmid (eds.), 243–262. Surrey: Ashgate, 2014. Frehse, Fraya. “Quando os ritmos corporais dos pedestres nos espaços públicos urbanos revelam ritmos da urbanização” Civitas 16:1 (2016): 100–118. Frehse, Fraya. “Relational Space through Historically Relational Time – in the Bodies of São Paulo’s Pedestrians” Current Sociology, 65:4 (2017a): 511–532. Frehse, Fraya. “The Bodily Production of Urban Space in Twenty-First Century São Paulo”. National Council for Scientific and Technological Development (CNPq) Research Project (n. 313285/2017-9), 2017b. Goffman, Erving. Behavior in Public Places. Toronto: Macmillan, 1963. Goffman, Erving. Interaction Ritual. Garden City: Anchor Books, 1967. Harding, Alan T. and Talja Blokland. Urban Theory. Los Angeles/London/New Delhi/Singapore/ Washington DC: Sage, 2014. Harvey, David. The Condition of Postmodernity. Oxford/Cambridge,MA: Blackwell, 1989. Klamt, Martin. “Öffentliche Räume” In Handbuch Stadtsoziologie. Frank Eckart (ed.), 775–804. Wiesbaden: Springer, 2012. Kärrholm, Mattias. “The Square of Events. Rhythmanalyising the Time-Spaces of an Urban Public Place” Lo Squaderno 32 (2014): 9–13. Kärrholm, Mattias. “The Temporality of Territorial Production – The Case of Stortorget, Malmö” Social & Cultural Geography 18:5 (2017): 683–705. Lefebvre, Henri. Elements of Rhythmanalysis. Stuart Elden and Gerald Moore (transl.). London/ New York: Continuum, 2004. Lefebvre, Henri. Éléments de rythmanalyse. Paris: Syllepse, 1992. Lefebvre, Henri and Cathérine Régulier. “Rythmanalyses des villes méditerranéennes [1986]”. In Éléments de rythmanalyse, Henri Lefebvre, 97–109. Paris: Syllepse, 1992. Lefebvre, Henri and Cathérine Régulier. “Le projet rythmanalytique” Communications 41 (1985): 191–199.

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Lefebvre, Henri. Critique de la vie quotidienne. Vol. III. Paris: L’Arche Éditeur, 1981. Lefebvre, Henri. La présence et l’absence. Paris: Casterman, 1980. Lefebvre, Henri. La production de l’espace. Paris: Anthropos, 2000 [1974]. Lefebvre, Henri. “Henri Lefebvre” In Entrevistas ao Le Monde: Idéias Contemporâneas, Olivier Corpet and Thierry Paquot (eds.), Maria Lúcia Blumer (transl.), 131–137. São Paulo: Ática, 1989 [1972]. Lefebvre, Henri. La révolution urbaine. Paris: Gallimard, 1970. Lefebvre, Henri. La vie quotidienne dans le monde moderne. Paris: Gallimard, 1968. Lefebvre, Henri. Introduction à la modernité. Paris: Éditions de Minuit, 1962. Lefebvre, Henri. Critique de la vie quotidienne. Vol. II. Paris: L’Arche Éditeur, 1961. Lefebvre, Henri. “Perspectives de sociologie rurale [1953]”. In Du rural à l’urbain, Henri Lefebvre, 63–78. Paris: Anthropos, 2001 [1970]. Lefebvre, Henri. Lógica Formal, Lógica Dialética. Carlos Nelson Coutinho (transl.). Rio de Janeiro: Civilização Brasileira, 1983 [1947]. Lefebvre, Henri. Critique de la vie quotidienne. Vol. I. Paris: L’Arche Éditeur, 1958 [1947]. Lindón, Alicia. “La construcción socioespacial de la ciudad: el sujeto cuerpo y el sujeto sentimento” Cuerpos, Emociones y Sociedad 1:1 (2009): 6–20. Lindón, Alicia. “Urbane Geographien des alltäglichen Lebens” In Stadtforschung aus Lateinamerika, Anne Huffschmid and Kathrin Wildner (eds.), 39–79. Bielefeld: Transcript, 2013. Lofland, Lyn. A World of Strangers. Prospect Heights: Waveland Press, 1985 [1973]. Löw, Martina. “Die Rache des Körpers über den Raum? Über Henri Lefèbvres Utopie und Geschlechterverhältnisse am Strand” In: Soziologie des Körpers, Markus Schroer (ed.), 241–270. Frankfurt a.M.: Suhrkamp, 2005. Mauss, Marcel. “Les techniques du corps [1936]” In: Sociologie et anthropologie, Marcel Mauss (ed.), 363–386. Paris: Quadrige/ Puf, 1997 [1950]. Meyer, Kurt. “Rhythms, Streets, Cities”. In: Space, Difference, Everyday Life, Kanishka Goonewardena, Stefan Kipfer, Richarld Milgram and Christian Schmid (eds.), 147–160. New York/London: Routledge, 2008. Rau, Susanne. “The Urbanization of the Periphery: A Spatio-Temporal History of Lyon since the Eighteenth Century” Historical Social Research 38:3 (2013): 150–175. Rubino, Silvana. “Enobrecimento urbano”. In Plural de Cidade, Carlos Fortuna and Rogerio Proença Leite (eds.), 25–40. Coimbra: CES/Almedina, 2009. Schmid, Christian. Stadt, Raum und Gesellschaft. München: Franz Steiner Verlag, 2005. Soja, Edward. Postmodern Geographies. London/New York: Verso, 1989. Stanek, Łukasz, Ákos Moravánsky and Christian Schmid (eds.). Urban Revolution Now. Surrey: Ashgate, 2014. Urry, John. Mobilities. Cambridge, Polity, 2007. Weidenhaus, Gunter. Soziale Raumzeit. Frankfurt a. M.: Suhrkamp, 2015.

Jacob Geuder and Lívia Alcântara

(Urban) Space, Media and Protests: Digitalizing the Right to the City? Thanks to technology, the domination of space is becoming, as it were, completely dominant. […] Dominated space is usually closed, sterilized, emptied out. The concept attains its full meaning only when it is contrasted with the opposite and inseparable concept of appropriation.1

Introduction Do technologies of social media and smartphones further ‘the domination of space’ or do media activists’ practices of appropriation open new avenues for emancipatory politics?2 This question has gained significant relevance in the face of the ‘digital revolution’. Research approaches capable of conceptualizing the relations between space, media, and protests, however, remain a desideratum. We argue that Lefebvre’s The Right to the City3 and The Production of Space4 offer important signposts for developing a potential analytical grid which is theoretically sound and simultaneously open for empirical investigation and adaptions. As we aim to show, Lefebvre’s thinking about space and protests is capable of being acclimated to current contexts of the digitalization of urban activism. Based on the assumption that the urban fabric is interwoven with the World Wide Web, we need to understand the complex relations of space, media and protests in their mutual and dialectical (re-)productions.

1 Lefebvre, Henri. The Production of Space. Oxford/Malden: Blackwell, 2011 [1974], 164. 2 For a deep discussion of potential media appropriations, Enzensberger presents inspiring ideas in: Enzensberger, Hans Magnus. “Constituents of a Theory of the Media” New Left Review 1 (1979): 13–36. 3 Lefebvre, Henri. Le droit à la ville. Paris: Economica-Anthropos, 2009 [1968]. 4 Lefebvre, The Production of Space. Note: More than one year of meetings in Rio de Janeiro, Lisbon and Barcelona, as well as numerous calls and emails, were necessary to produce this article. Our debates across disciplines (sociology and media studies) and across continents (Europe and South America) have finally resulted in this text, which remains a work “in progress”. The insights and discussions of our text here are strongly influenced by our respective PhD research as well as personal experiences. https://doi.org/10.1515/9783110494983-007

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By looking at the practices of media activists in Rio de Janeiro, we will illustrate our conceptual claims. The movement of media activists5 in Rio de Janeiro has grown exponentially since the massive protest of June 2013, where media activism played a significant role. Created out of individual and collective efforts, media activists have continuously reported in social media about instances of human rights violations and police attacks against activists. Media activist practices function as a double-edged sword against corporate media hegemonies on the one side and the capitalist domination of urban spaces on the other. These practices aim at opening up access to centralities and differential spaces as opposed to the inherent exclusion of capitalistic abstract spaces. We argue that media activists’ work towards constructions of ‘concrete utopias’. In order to emphasize the processual character and inherently contradictory environment in which these ‘concrete utopias’ of media activism are realized, we label them as ‘utopian practices’. Utopian practices aim at producing differential spaces within the hegemony of abstract spaces. As practices they employ techniques of participation, subversion and appropriation with the goal of prioritizing quality over quantity, use value over exchange value, participation over exploitation, subversion over domination, and appropriation over consumption. To offer a conceptualization of the relation between urban spaces, media, and protests, we will first review the literature from the fields of urban studies, media studies and social movement studies to present main arguments and major strands of research. Following this, we take up Christian Schmid’s trifold interpretation of the ‘right to the city’ to transpose it to the process of digitalization. Finally, we attempt to apply the developed analytical grid to a – necessarily selective – reading of media activism in Rio de Janeiro. As the examples from Rio de Janeiro’s media activism show, the production of online videos about protest in urban spaces for the online platforms YouTube and Facebook cannot be understood without embedding the production of digital media in their specific contexts.

5 Every list of media activist collectives in Rio de Janeiro is doomed to remain incomplete due to the dynamism in the field. Nevertheless, the collectives of Mídia Independente Coletiva-Mariachi (today Midiacoletiva), A Nova Democracia, Centro de Mídia Independente, Papo Reto, Maré Vive and MidiaNinja need to be mentioned here.

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1 A Literature Review of Dichotomization, Separation and Fragmentation6 If space is a product, our knowledge of it must be expected to reproduce and expound the process of production.7

For Henri Lefebvre, the objective of the “science of space” should be to reverse “the dominant trend towards fragmentation, separation and disintegration”.8 Ignorance, shallow knowledge, and/or unquestioned assumptions about the Euclidean nature of space can in fact be identified in various strands of research, leaving the impression that the pro-claimed “spatial turn”9 in the social sciences has not reached out that far. In debates about social movement and collective action, the spatiality of protests is oftentimes fully neglected10 or solely referred to as an analytical dimension without elaborating it any further.11 Gerbaudo made an important critique in this sense on the de-materialization and de-territorialization of activism, when

6 Although the empirical context of this work focuses on media activists, that is, activists concerned with performing specific media functions, we carry out the literature review in a broader sense, addressing digital activism as a whole, because our objective in the literature review is to analyse digital activism with an approach, which is sensitive to spatiality, in order to identify the main problems and contributions. Media activism is just one kind of activism within the process of digitalizing activism. 7 Lefebvre, The Production of Space, 37. 8 Lefebvre, The Production of Space, 9. 9 Warf, Barney and Santa Arias (eds.). The Spatial Turn: Interdisciplinary Perspectives. London/ New York: Routledge, 2009. 10 See AlSayyad, Nezar and Muna Guvenc. “Virtual Uprisings: On the Interaction of New Social Media, Traditional Media Coverage and Urban Space during the ‘Arab Spring’” Urban Studies 52:11 (2015): 2018–2034; Featherstone, David. Resistance, Space and Political Identities: The Making of Counter-Global Networks. London: Wiley-Blackwell, 2008; Nicholls, Walter J. “The Geographies of Social Movements” Geography Compass: 1:3 (2007): 607–622. 11 See Klandermans, Bert and Sjoerd Goslinga. “Media Discourse, Movement Publicity, and the Generation of Collective Action Frames. Theoretical and Empirical Exercises in Meaning Construction” In: Comparative Perspectives on Social Movements: Political Opportunities, Mobilizing Structures, and Cultural Framings, Doug McAdam, John D. Mccarthy and Mayer N. Zald (eds.), 312–337. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996; Dhaliwal, Puneet. “Public Squares and Resistance: The Politics of Space in the Indignados Movement” Interface: A Journal for and about Social Movements 4:1 (2012): 251–273; Parkinson, John. Democracy and Public Space: the Physical Sites of Democratic Performance. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2014; Klandermans, Bert, Jaqueline von Steklenburg and Stefan Walgrave. “Comparing Street Demonstrations” International Sociology 29:6 (2014): 493–503.

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he reminded us “that the importance of the struggle for public space” has been an over-arching characteristic in major social movements in 2011 with the “Arab Spring”, the “European Summer” and the “American Autumn”.12 For a long time theoretical analysis has located these forms of communication [the use of social media amongst activists] in another space, a ‘cyberspace’ or online space as opposed to offline space. This perspective is well exemplified by Manuel Castells’ description of the internet as a ‘network of brains’ […]13

Manuel Castells, who published his trilogy about the “information age”14 as early as in the 1990s, is certainly one of the most cited authors in studies discussing processes of digitalization. Christian Fuchs points to the lack of proper theorization in Castell’s writing, whose notions of “communication power” and “space of flows” refer to major social science concepts such as “power” without ever explicating any theoretical background.15 Moving beyond a simplistic technodeterminism remains a shortcoming in many discussions of digital activism. To analytically grasp the social complexity of processes of digitalization often employed tools like comparison and analogy are conceptually insufficient, as “obviously society is shaped by computers, but it is not a computer itself”.16 On the other side, in social movement studies, Antonio Negri and Michael Hardt’s notions of swarms, crowds and multitude are being criticized for overexaggerating the horizontality and evenness of social movements’ networks, as Mejias observes in his book Off the Network: [T]he dynamics of network growth means that the selection of messages and ideas that have the potential to reach large audiences may be more decentralized but not much more democratic, open, or horizontal than the mechanisms found within the state apparatus.17

Lefebvre’s critique that “‘space’ is mentioned on every page”18 without a thorough conceptualization of it, or explaining how space exactly relates to protests beyond anecdotal levels, seems to be as relevant today as almost forty years ago. 12 Gerbaudo, Paolo. Tweets and the Streets. London: Pluto Press, 2012, 21. 13 Gerbaudo, Tweets and the Streets, 11. 14 Castells, Manuel. The Information Age. Economy, Society, and Culture. Malden: Wiley-Blackwell, 2010. 15 See Fuchs, Christian. Social Media. A Critical Introduction. Los Angeles/London/New Delhi/ Singapore/Washington DC: Sage, 2014. 16 Fuchs, Social Media, 74. 17 Mejias, Ulises Ali. Off the Network: Disrupting the Digital World. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2013, 74 f. 18 Lefebvre, The Production of Space, 3.

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In our literature review on the topic of the digitalization of urban activism, we present three over-arching tendencies: the tendency to dichotomize online/ offline-dimensions of protests, to separate the phenomenon of social movements artificially into scales, and finally the fragmentation of knowledge into specialized but disconnected discourses. As historically space was constituted as an object of geography, the media as a theme of communication studies, and social movements and collective action as sociology’s own topic, we assume that the disciplinary division of knowledge production plays a crucial role in the disintegration of knowledge.

Space Online and Offline The trend towards dichotomization is reproduced in studies constructed on a division of ‘digital/virtual’ or ‘online/offline’ activism, which attempt to categorize different forms of action and political participation in binary pairs.19 At the heart of the problem, “these kinds of arguments essentialize […] the online and offline worlds as two distinct realms of reality, with no intersection between the two social realms”.20 Thus, various studies update classic conceptual tools in order to grasp processes of digitalization. This has given rise to terms such as “net war”,21 “electronic civil disobedience”,22 “virtual public spheres”23 or “online politic participation/ mobilization”.24 If, on the one hand, these expressions seek to explain the new dynamics of organization and activist forms of action, on the other, they reify the

19 See for example Arquilla, John and David Ronfeldt. The Advent of Netwar. Santa Monica: RAND, 1996. Laer, Jeroen Van and Peter van Aelst. “Internet and social movement action repertoires” Information, Communication & Society, 13 (2010): 1146–1171; Langman, Lauren. “From Virtual Public Spheres to Global Justice: A Critical Theory of Internetworked Social Movements” Sociological Theory 23:1 (2005): 42–74; Ogan, Christine, Roya Imani Giglou and Leen d’Haenens. “The Relationship between Online and Offline Participation in a Social Movement: Gezi Park Protests in the Diaspora” In: Taking the Square: Mediated Dissent and Occupations of Public Space, Maria Rovisco and Jonathan Corpus (eds.), 117–132. London/New York: Rowman & Littlefield, 2016; Wray, Stefan. “Electronic Civil Disobedience and the World Wide Web of Hacktivism: a Mapping of Extraparliamentarian Direct Action Net Politics”. http://nknu.pbworks.com/f/ netaktivizam.pdf (11/04/17). 20 Mejias, Off the Network, 57. 21 Arquilla and Ronfeldt, Netwar. 22 Ogan and d’Haenens, The Relationship. 23 See Langman, Virtual Public Spheres. 24 Wray, Electronic Civil Disobedience.

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polarization between the ‘space’ of the streets and the ‘space of the networks’, which accompanies some internet studies. Research relying on dichotomizations have their roots in Cartesian philosophy, which relies heavily on value-laden binaries such as nature/culture, body/ mind or space/time.25 In the analysis of digital activism, the great heir of these dichotomies is Manuel Castells. This author differentiates the “space of flow” from “space of places”,26 understanding the first as the new spatial form of globalization and referring to the structures of the networked society. The “space of places”, however, is related to the localized, from which it is isolated. From an evolutionary perspective, Castells projects an overlapping of the logic of flows over the logic of places, thus announcing the generalized global interconnection: The dominant tendency is towards a horizon of networked, ahistorical space of flows, aiming at imposing its logic over scattered, segmented places, increasingly unrelated to each other, less and less able to share cultural codes.27

The separation between ‘space and place’ implies a disregard for the fact that place-based political activity is also constructed from exchanges of identities and demands, through relations with other places and actors: “This contention of space and place, and their association with the ‘universal’ and the ‘local’, serves to marginalize the agency and dynamism of subaltern forms of political activity.”28 In a promising approach, Simon Springer argues that the “theology of neoliberalism produces a discourse that binds violence in place”29 and proposes, in contrast to common understandings of place, a relational understanding of space as is suggested here. The discursive formation to bind violence to place can 25 Much of the necessary post-colonial critique has dismantled these dichotomies as a line of thinking which is deeply entrenched in modernist, Eurocentric thinking, and the notion of online/offline may be another variation of that. Beyond this conceptual problem, there is another much more practical problem: The core of Lefebvre’s claim that only “the most industrialized and urbanized ones [countries] can exploit to the full the new possibilities opened up by technology and knowledge” (Lefebvre, Production of Space, 69) still holds true today, as the attention given to the comparatively small US occupy is absolutely over-represented in contrast to the revolts in Egypt, Turkey or Brazil. Scholars from the “Global South” therefore rightly demand a de-westernizing of social movement research. See for example Bringel, Breno and José Maurício Domingues. “Introduction” In: Global modernity and social contestation, Breno Bringel and José Maurício Domingues (eds.), 1–18. London: Sage Publications, 2015. 26 Castells, The Information Age, 453. 27 Castells, The Information Age, 459. 28 Featherstone, Resistance, 18. 29 Springer, Simon. “Violence Sits in Places? Cultural Practice, Neoliberal Rationalism, and Virulent Imaginative Geographies” Political Geography 30:2 (2011): 90–98, 90.

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be seen as a strategy to turn a blind eye to forms of “structural violence”30 inherent to neoliberal regimes.

Scale Changes Another variation of these tendencies lies in the approach of transnational activism based on Tarrow’s notion of “scale changes”31 (local, regional, national and global), which dichotomize internal (national/local) and external (international/ global). Influenced by the Contentious Politics32 research program and its proposal to understand collective action in the context of deepening globalization, part of this literature has sought to think about how protests and social movements transit between these scales. Tarrow asks, for example, how Gandhi’s repertoire of nonviolence moved from India to the United States.33 Communication, in the approach to scales, is almost always understood in an instrumental sense as the means or mechanism by which this internationalization/internalization of collective action takes place.34 The use of tools and communication strategies allows activists to break geopolitical barriers (repressive nation states for example)35 and create political-cultural bridges – for example the appropriation of a repertoire of action generated in another political-cultural context. Although important contributions on cultural space connections between social movements have been developed from the notion of ‘scale change’, this approach is not very dialogical. By fragmenting space into scales, the inherent simultaneity of scales and their complex relations are obscured. The fact that practices are simultaneously local, national, and global, as well as online and offline at the same time, is in danger of being neglected in analyses following these approaches rigidly. 30 Galtung, John. “Violence, Peace, and Peace Research” Journal of Peace Research 6:3 (1969), 167–191. 31 Tarrow, Sidney. “Diffusion and Modularity” In: The New Transnational Activism, Sidney Tarrow (ed.), 99–119. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2005. 32 The notion of contentious politics was developed by Charles Tilly in his book on 400 years of French revolts, which has strongly impacted the academic field of social movement studies. Tilly, Charles. The Contentious French. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1986. 33 See Tarrow, Diffusion and Modularity. 34 See Adams, Paul C. “Protest and the Scale Politics of Telecommunications” Political Geography 15:5 (1996): 419–441; Keck, Margaret E. and Kathryn Sikkink. Activists Beyond Borders: Advocacy Networks in International Politics. USA: Cornell University Press, 1998. 35 See Keck and Sikkink, Activists Beyond Borders.

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The Trivialization of Spatiality Another set of studies has been developing since the end of 2010, with the revolt starting in Tunisia, that emphasizes the study of places for protests. Since then, squares and public spaces occupied by activists – in Egypt (Tahrir Square), Turkey (Taksim Square and Gezi Park), Spain (Plaza del Sol and Plaza Cataluña) and in the United States (Zuccotti Park) – have been the focus of various publications. There are many ways in which spatiality has been approached from the fields of protest. Based on these experiences some perspectives have shown how occupations are a space of resistance to capitalist urban projects36 and emphasized the squares as places where activism could be created anew from the dimension of experience37 of capitalist exploitations. But at the same time this literature has in some instances overestimated the repertoire of action of these movements. Some authors over-exaggerate protest camps as a unique and new social phenomenon. Proposing to think of them as “an emerging field of social movement research”38 neglects the historical traits of such ‘repertoires of contention’. In this sense they announce in slogans the emergence of a new era of activism, characterized by this spatial repertoire: “#Occupy Everywhere”,39 “from indignation to occupation”40 and “taking the square”.41 Here, the movement or the waves of mobilizations are subsumed by one of its repertoires of action (the occupation): “public square movement”42 or in the Spanish version ‘movimiento de las plazas’.

36 See Ay, Deniz and Faranak Miraftab. “Invented Spaces of Activism: Gezi Park and Performative Practices of Citizenship” In: The Handbook of International Development, Daniel Hammett and Jean Grugel (eds.), 1–18. Palgrave MacMillan, 2016; Dhaliwal, Public squares; Orlowski, A. Margaret. Communication, Protest, and the Right to the City: Case of Vancouver 2010. [Master Thesis, University of Western Ontario, 2006, unpublished]. 37 See Capitaine, Brieg and Geoffrey Pleyers. “Introduction” In: Mouvements sociaux. Quand le sujet devient acteur, Brieg Capitaine and Geoffrey Pleyers (eds.), 7–24. França: Maison des Sciences de l’Homme, 2016. 38 Frenzel, Fabian, Anna Feigenbaum and Patrick McCurdy. “Protest Camps: An Emerging Field of Social Movement Research” The Sociological Review 62 (2014): 457–474. 39 Juris, Jeffrey S. “Reflections on #Occupy Everywhere: Social Media, Public Space, and Emerging Logics of Aggregation” American Ethnologist 29:2 (2012): 259–279. 40 Tejerina, Benjamín, Ignacia Perugorría, Tova Benski and Lauren Langman. “From Indignation to Occupation: A New Wave of Global Mobilization” Current Sociology 61: 4 (2013): 377–392. 41 Frenzel et al., Protest Camps. 42 Göle, Nilüfer. “Gezi – Anatomy of a Public Square Movement” Insight Turkey 13:3 (2013): 7–14.

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There is, in these interpretations, a “myopia of the present”43 that is an overvaluation of contemporary forms of activism (in this case, the repertoire of occupation of the squares) over others. Comparative studies among the various protest camps are scarce, and they do not always carry out a proper analysis of the spatial dimension, even though they extensively rely on spatial vocabularies. On the one side, overvaluing the occupation of the squares displays the extreme of exaggerating the importance of places for social movements, while, on the other side, studies of digital activism too easily proclaim these repertoires as spaceless. A mutual ignorance of these fields of knowledge production creates fragmentations, instead of dealing productively with challenging contradictions of current social movements: It is evident that at this level there is a deep contradiction between the spatial relationships intrinsic to the two practices which have become the trademarks of contemporary protest culture: social media and protest camps.44

As the three trends described – opposition between forms of online and offline activism, division of space into scales, and the trivialization of spatiality  – illustrate, the relationship between media, protest and space has not been sufficiently explored. We suggest that recovering Lefebvre’s concepts may open new avenues to understand spatiality in contemporary digital activism. To Henri Lefebvre a “dominant trend towards fragmentation, separation and disintegration”45 is a strategy of domination. Research – and the context of its production – is not innocent. Academic research has a political dimension. In our short literature review we have not aimed to reproduce and expound capitalistic productions of knowledge of space, but rather critically assess the existing studies. Presenting these debates, we have tried to illustrate how the relations of space, media and protests are too easily dis-integrated to create analytic commensurability for the prize of conceptual coherence. This amounts to avoiding full-fledged critiques of, for example, the inherent, structural violence of neoliberal capitalist regimes.

43 Bringel, Breno. “Miopias, sentidos e tendências do levante brasileiro de 2013” Insight Inteligência (2013): 43–51. 44 Gerbaudo, Tweets, 12. 45 Lefebvre, The Production of Space, 9.

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2 Spatializing Digitalization and Digitalizing the Right to the City? The right to the city is far more than the individual liberty to access urban resources: it is a right to change ourselves by changing the city. It is, moreover, a common rather than an individual right since this transformation inevitably depends upon the exercise of a collective power to reshape the processes of urbanization.46

The claim of a right to the city originates in the same-titled essay “Le droit à la ville”, written by Henri Lefebvre in Paris in 1968. Calling for a “transformed and renewed access to urban life”, the right to the city is articulated by Lefebvre as “a cry and demand”47 that gives access to centrality to all “citadins” and explicitly includes access to information: The right to the city, complemented by the right to difference and the right to information, should modify, concretize and make more practical the rights of the citizen as an urban dweller (citadin) and user of multiple services.48

This demands a “radical restructuring of social, political, and economic relations, both in the city and beyond”.49 The intense conceptual disputes that the right to the city has sparked,50 the variety of appropriations by different actors51 and not least the powerful social and technological transformations since it was

46 Harvey, David. “The Right to the City” New Left Review 53 (2008): 23–40, 23. 47 Lefebvre, Henri. “Part II. The Right to the City” In: Lefebvre, Henri. Writings on Cities, Eleonore Kofman and Elizabeth Lebas (eds./trans.), 61–181. Cambridge: Blackwell Publishers, 1996, 158. 48 Kofman, Eleonore and Elizabeth Lebas. “Part I. Introduction” In: Lefebvre, Henri. Writings on Cities, Eleonore Kofman and Elizabeth Lebas (eds./trans.), 2–60. Cambridge: Blackwell Publishers, 1996, 34. 49 Purcell, Mark. “Excavating Lefebvre: The Right to the City and its Urban Politics of the Inhabitant” Geo Journal 58 (2002): 99–108, 101. 50 See Harvey, The Right to the City; Lopes de Souza, Which Right to the City? 51 The Brazilian government in 2001 passed the addendum “City Statute” into the country’s constitution, which makes explicit references to the right to the city. Although Lefebvre did not construct the right to the city as a juridical law as such, Edésio Fernandes discusses whether and how the Brazilian attempt to translate the right to the city into jurisdiction has worked: Fernandes, Edésio. “Constructing the ‘Right to the City’ in Brazil” Social & Legal Studies 16:2 (2007): 201–219.

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published in 1968, make it necessary for us to sketch out more precisely in the following section how we are going to appropriate this concept, slogan, and utopia.52 Christian Schmid has elaborated three dimensions to characterize the right to the city: the urban level as mediating level, centrality as a form and, difference as its content.53 Thus, three questions and ‘strategic hypotheses’ guide our claims on how Lefebvre’s Right to the City might be applied in analysis that relates urban space, media and protest: 1. How does digitalization affect mobilization in specific urban spaces and how is digitalization affected by specific urban movements? Social media should be thought as part and parcel of the urban level: processes of digitalization and urbanization affect (and are affected) by activist practices. 2. How do social media and media activism contribute to the construction of (political) centralities and how are they affected by this? The urban level is marked by centralities and peripheries. Social media produces centralities and is produced in centralities by affecting the construction of new (in)visibility regimes. 3. How does activist media deal with the tension inherent in social media, which on the one hand, represents a certain horizontal and participatory character while, on the other hand, being inherently capitalistic? For Lefebvre, the centralities produced in abstract spaces should be distinguished from centralities produced in differential spaces: Commercial social media enterprises such as Facebook mostly function under the hegemony of (re-)producing abstract spaces but may be appropriated by (media) activists. In the following section, we discuss these questions on the three dimensions of the urban level, centrality and difference.

Urban Level For Lefebvre, the urban must first of all be read as a process of urbanization, which is marked by simultaneity and exploding centralities. In Schmid’s reading of Lefebvre, the urban level is situated between the global and the private level. It functions as mediating level where encounters take place. These mediations 52 See Schmid, Christian. “Henri Lefebvre, the Right to the City, and the New Metropolitan Mainstream” In: Cities for People, not for Profit, Neil Brenner, Peter Marcuse and Margit Mayer (eds.), 42–62. London/New York: Routledge, 2012. 53 See Schmid, Henri Lefebvre.

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take place between (worldwide) power structures such as geopolitics and the private level such as personal decisions. According to Schmid it is on the urban level where the global and the private encounter each other, are played out and realized in everyday practices. It is here, on the urban level, where humans and things assemble, interact and conflict in a constant process of the production of urban space.54 It is on the urban level where the conflictual processes and the “power of encounter” become possible.55 Andy Merrifield, who coined this notion of the “politics of encounter”, adds an important critique to Lefebvre’s right to the city, which he perceives as “too vast and at the same time too narrow”56: with the collapse of a unity of citizens and city-dwellers and the current de-centered centralities of political power, the right to the city as a claim to centrality has lost its subject with the implosion-explosion of the city itself. This debate is relevant and warns us about applying rigid scales as well as a too close reading of the levels as suggested by Schmid. Digitalization affects the current production of (urban) spaces on all levels: Be it on the private level, where personal encounters may now be guided by dating websites, the mediating urban level where people follow Google Maps and Airbnb triggers gentrification, or on the global level, where complete economic sectors like, for example, the taxi industry, is taken over by the globally acting company Uber. There is no doubt that digitalization forms urbanizations and is formed through urbanizations. On which level should the digitalization of urban movements be placed? Where can we position digitalization? There is no simple answer to that. If we base our arguments on Lefebvre, we may focus our attention on the digitalization of the urban level, but it all depends on the research question one asks. Social media sites like Facebook can neither be placed exclusively on a private, urban or global level, but they exist simultaneously in all of them and penetrate all of them. Looking at our example of media activism in Rio de Janeiro it is apparent how important it is to understand how exactly social media tools like sharing videos are appropriated and jump the levels and scales. What can be said here for sure is that urban space still matters, and digitalization will certainly not do away with that.

54 See Schmid, Henri Lefebvre. 55 Merrifield, Andy. “The Right to the City and Beyond” City: Analysis of Urban Trends, Culture, Theory, Policy, Action 15:3 f. (2011): 473–481, 478. 56 Merrifield, Right to the City, 478.

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Centrality Lefebvre’s concept of centrality is of crucial importance to the essay “The Right to the City”. This text marks the beginning of when Lefebvre started to focus on the ‘urban question’ and which culminated in his famous work The Production of Space. In “The Right to the City”, he defined his “cry and demand” as a “right to centrality” that means a right to “urban life, to renewed centrality, to places of encounter and exchange, to life rhythms and time uses, enabling the full and complete usage of these moments and places”.57 To illustrate this claim it is worth making a short historical detour into Lefebvre’s reading of the May 1968 student protests in Paris, that he published shortly after the events. In his empirical analysis The Explosion58 – published shortly after the conceptual essay “The Right to the City” – Lefebvre describes the student protests as sparked by the events at Nanterre University on the outskirts of Paris where he was active as a professor at the same time. The upheavals in Nanterre rapidly made their way into the inner city, and then the protests were picked up at Sorbonne University, leading to the re-appropriation of the Quartier Latin. The act of conquering the ‘heart’ of Paris must be read as an ‘activité’: The practice of accessing centrality with students’ demands and the occupying of places and institutions resembles events on Tahir or Taksim Square more than 40 years later and how activists struggled with similar difficulties in establishing a permanent appropriation of these places. However, there is a clear impact in this dialectical movement of occupation: the urban places received another layer of meaning during protest events while simultaneously the practices of protest were shaped by the sedimented meanings and physical outlays of these places. Protests produce centrality and appropriate existing centralities to make their claims. Two major mechanisms – participation and personalization – employed by social media affect the production of (in-)visibility, which has become of essential importance to the construction of centrality today. At first the call and opportunity for ‘participation’ expressed in slogans such as “Broadcast Yourself” (YouTube) – is certainly one of the defining characteristics of social media. On the one hand, participation offers new opportunities, which are often simplified to the claim that today everyone may produce and share content. Such simplifications ignore the digital divide, that still “reflects and reinforces existing geographies of power,”59 which means that “poor, elderly, ethnic minorities, and rural 57 Lefebvre, The Right to the City, 179. 58 Lefebvre, Henri. The Explosion. Marxism and the French Upheaval. New York/London: Monthly Review Press, 1969. 59 Warf, Barney. Global Geographies of the Internet. Dordrecht/New York: Springer, 2013, 4.

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areas enjoy markedly less access“60 to the world wide web. On the other hand, users must accept the terms and conditions of social media companies. Using social media means to produce value for those companies by creating and sharing data. Users are neither paid for their labor with which they generate the surplus of social media companies61 nor do they have a say in their decision-making. Authors of critical internet studies such as Christian Fuchs thus also speak of “pseudo-participation” in these contexts.62 The second mechanism that structures the architecture of social media platforms is personalization, which means that users get to see different contents based on the profiles that have been constructed about them. This increases the likeliness of being shown what one had shown interest in before and is based on massive data collection to allow for targeted advertising. Eli Pariser discusses the effects of personalization pointedly and warns that we might all end up in information ghettos: “In the filter bubble, there’s less room for the chance encounters that bring insight and learning.”63 The fragmentation of information distribution via personalization might have disastrous aspects. Andy Merrifield’s call for a “politics of encounter” and the claim of right to centrality certainly face new challenges when “the public is irrelevant”64 and ceases to appear on social media as Eli Pariser claims. The personalized internet, through which users navigate, drastically transforms the visibility regimes known from public broadcasting. At the same time the mechanisms and algorithmic calculations that decide who gets to see what do not only remain opaque to users, but open huge gateways for manipulation as well as censorship.

Difference With the connection between the right to the city as based on the “urban level” and a claim to the right to centrality, we have already sketched out two main aspects of our analytical grid to relate (urban) space, media and protest. In this 60 Warf, Global Geographies, 20. 61 A general explanation of this perspective can be found in Fuchs, Social Media. For a more detailed discussion of the political-economy of platforms such as YouTube see for example: Wasko, Janet and Mary Erickson. “The Political Economy of YouTube” In: The YouTube Reader, Pelle Snickars and Pantrick Vonderau (eds.), 372–396. Stockholm: National Library of Sweden, 2009. 62 Fuchs, Social Media, 27. 63 Pariser, Eli. The Filter Bubble: What the Internet Is Hiding from You. New York: Penguin Press, 2011, 15. 64 Pariser, Filter Bubble, 76.

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section we finally want to complement this with the notions of ‘abstract spaces’ and ‘differential space’. Capitalism produces abstract spaces based on the ideology of exchange value, i.e. a quality of a certain place is transformed (abstracted) into a quantity – an exchange value expressed in money that can be traded: “space itself has begun to be bought and sold”.65 ‘Legal’ destructions in the name of law and in particular property rights have been used on a massive scale in Rio de Janeiro, when people were dislocated around construction sites for the Olympic Games.66 Property rights are crucial to capitalism as they guarantee that space can be abstracted to an exchange value which can then be traded. This process, as described by Karl Marx, has lost little of its relevance today and finds new forms with digitalization of a neoliberal capitalism. For example, the online platform Airbnb ‘democratizes’ the process of quantifying one’s home into a means of production, while guaranteeing its share by imposing service fees on private home rentals. Henri Lefebvre positions the production of abstract spaces in opposition to the production of differential spaces. For example, house occupations can be described as one form of producing differential spaces. With Lefebvre, it is ‘auto-gestion’ (self-governance) that is the base of producing differential spaces. The right to the city is therefore as well a call for the “right to difference”67 and the consequent repulsion of abstract property rights. Forced evictions are only the tip of an iceberg in processes of safe-guarding investors’ rights over peoples’ rights. The centrality of differential spaces must therefore be clearly demarcated from the centrality produced in abstract spaces. In the abstract spaces of “global cities”,68 a considerable part of inhabitants does not have access to the centers of decisionmaking. Small areas and symbolic places, such as Wall Street or Silicon Valley, concentrate enormous powers for small elite groups, while people at their margins are simultaneously exploited, evicted or expelled from the centers of decision making. A differential centrality on the contrary would be centrality open to everyone who is willing to participate in its construction and who is capable of appropriating it. Lefebvre acknowledged the inherent ‘openness’ as well as the conflictual potential of such a process and therefore spoke of concrete utopias rather than ideal situations. In the next section, the analysis of media activist practices in Rio de Janeiro will highlight the conflict between employing capitalist social media as abstract 65 Lefebvre, Henri. The Urban Revolution. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2003, 154. 66 The community of “Vila Autodromo” in Rio’s South Zone is probably one of the most famous example for this systematic destruction of homes and livelihoods. 67 Kofman and Lebas, Introduction, 34. 68 Sassen, Saskia. The Global City: New York, London, Tokyo. Princeton/New Jersey: Princeton University Press, 2011.

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spaces and their resistance by attempting to produce differential spaces from within.

3 A Meandering Web in an Urban Fabric: Media Activism in Rio de Janeiro It is neo-capitalism which superimposes, without denying or destroying it, the centre of consumption upon the centre of decision making. It no longer gathers together people and things, but data and knowledge.69

With the previous review of dominant trends in the literature about the digitalization of urban movements and our proposals for a Lefebvrian re-conceptualization of the right to the city, we finally turn to a necessarily cursory analysis of the case of media activism in Rio de Janeiro. In order to reflect on this panorama, we want to illustrate a few media activist practices from Rio de Janeiro that partially reshape these specific struggles for the right to the city.

Digitalizing Urbanization In June 2013, a massive wave of protests that had built over months and years reached its peak: on Monday, June 17, an estimated one million people took to the streets in cities all over Brazil. During the so-called ‘Jornadas de Junho’ (which can be translated as ‘June Demonstrations’) popular dissatisfaction over yet another increase of public transport fees vis-à-vis exuberant spending of tax money for the approaching FIFA World Cup sprawled into the streets and produced the largest demonstrations in more than two decades. This wave of protests in Brazil followed popular the uprisings of the ‘Arab Spring’, Indignados (15M70) in Spain or the ‘Occupy Wall Street’ movement and coincided with the violent eviction of Gezi Park in Istanbul on June 15, 2013. In Rio de Janeiro the protests gathered 100,000 participants on June 17, and an estimated half a million71

69 Lefebvre, The Right to the City, 170. 70 The name 15M relates to March 15, 2011, when Puerta del Sol in Madrid was occupied. 71 To ascertain the exact number of protesters is at least difficult, if not impossible. The estimates by the authorities claim three hundred thousand, which is most certainly under-estimated for political reasons.

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on June 20, 2013.72 They did not defend a particular place, but rather occupied the inner city and targeted main avenues  –  e.g. Avenida Rio Branco  –  as well as central places – e.g. Cinelândia or Candelaria – and buildings – such as the Assembleia da Legislativa do Rio de Janeiro (ALERJ) which was occupied by protesters.73 Similar to other protests such as those in Istanbul, social media certainly affected the ‘repertoires of contention’. Facebook, Twitter and YouTube74 were used to mobilize people, coordinate protests and construct alternative narratives in opposition to mainstream media reports. The appropriation of these technologies could only take place in a context of – albeit unequal - access to the Internet via phones and by the massive use of corporate social media. However, one should be wary of the different forms of techno-determinism, be they optimist or pessimist, that attribute such mobilizations solely to the existence of platforms like Facebook. There is a massive difference between sitting behind a computer screen, pushing like-buttons, and taking to the streets, facing police who employ tear gas, rubber bullets and clubs. The ‘Jornadas de Junho’ gave rise to the organization of various activists as so called ‘midiativistas’, i.e. media activists. Single activists, and increasingly groups of activists, formed collectives to cover the protests from another perspective than corporate and state media. As active participants of the protests, they reported from the ‘inside’ of demonstrations, showed the violence of police against citizens and spread the words of protesters. These accounts, captured by smartphones and cameras of urban inhabitants, complemented and often countered the narratives of ‘traditional’ journalists and spread via the channels of YouTube, the sites of the collectives on Facebook or were livestreamed. In the years to follow, the number of the collectives that arose during the turbulent year of 2013 diminished. While some collectives disappeared fully, others merged. The collectives of MidiaNinja, MIC, Mariachi, CMI, A Nova Democracia, and so on, have left a legacy, which has changed how (urban) space in Rio de Janeiro is being lived, perceived and even conceived. 72 See Aguiar, Thais Florence de. “Manifestações: Democratição contra Capital e Estado” In: As Rebeliões da Tarifa e as Jornadas de Junho no Brasil, Cassio Brancealeone and Daniel de Bem (eds.), 55–82. Porto Alegre: Editora Deriva, 2014. 73 We still lack a detailed tracing of the symbolic and historical meaning of the streets and monuments that became central to the protests, which goes beyond the scope of this contribution. Jaguaripe offers interesting hints in that direction: Jaguaribe, Beatrice. Rio de Janeiro. Urban Life through the Eyes of the City. Abingdon: Routledge, 2014. 74 For a discussion of the different uses of the platforms, see Arafa, Mohamed and Crystal Armstrong. “Facebook to Mobilize, Twitter to Coordinate Protests, and YouTube to Tell the World: New Media, Cyberactivism, and the Arab Spring” Journal of Global Initiatives 10:1 (2015): 73–102.

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The widespread news and rapid appropriation of social media should be read not least in relation to the media landscape of Rio de Janeiro; the media enterprise Globo, that was founded during the dictatorship in Brazil, has adopted a particularly one-sided perspective on reporting on protests. Known for its rather conservative and sensationalist reporting style, Globo labelled protesters as ‘vandals’, fueling a narrative that delegitimized the claims of citizens and produced images of rioting mobs. As the most influential Brazilian media enterprise, closely linked to political elites, Globo was confronted with strong resentments by the movements, which were expressed very physically, when activists expelled Globo journalists from marches by shouting at them and pushing them out. The digitalization of the urban movement was built in this triangular movement of urban space, media and protests. To understand these processes and their specificity, simplifying the practices of media activism as decontextualized digital activism is not a solution. The videos, which became a major tool in the communication of events, are more than simply documentations of “yet another rebellion that looks structurally similar to so many others – an eye-grabbing two-minute video clip in the news”.75 The activist-videos discussed here work against the “selective de-contextualization” of protests events.76 ‘Pathologizing’ and ‘exoticizing’ protests in sensationalist images and videos depicting violence is one strategy by state and corporate media. On the other hand, social media is often dominated by reports of corporate media and on equally tend to ‘viralize’ spectacles. Academic research that only looks at activist videos contents or creates fictional separations of online and offline thus runs the danger of delegitimizing citizens’ protests by de-contextualizing them.

Digitalizing Centrality Digital communication affects protests and urbanization as the previous section has shown. In the following we look at the production of centrality in Rio de Janeiro and how this (re-)produces regimes of (in-)visibility that perpetuate social inequalities inscribed in Rio’s urban space. To conceptualize the transformation of centralities, we focus on two main features inscribed in the architecture of social media platforms: participation and personalization. We argue that social

75 Tehodossopoulos, Dimitros. “On De-pathologizing Resistance” History and Anthropology 25:4 (2014): 415–430, 420. 76 Tehodossopoulus, De-Pathologizing, 420.

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media enterprises like Facebook have gained a crucial role in the current production of (in-)visibility regimes in Rio de Janeiro. Images of the city of Rio de Janeiro are world famous: Cristo Rendentor (Christ the Redeemer looking over a sprawling urban space, the cable cars leading to Pão de Açucar (Sugar Loaf), the festivities in the Sambódromo (Sambadrome) during Carnival, the beaches of Copacabana and Ipanema, or the densely built neighborhoods of favelas to name a few. The FIFA World Cup and the Olympic Games were meant to further increase this global visibility to attract further investors and tourists. What interests here is less the visibility regime of global cities, but rather the production of (in-)visibilities within Rio de Janeiro. Rio de Janeiro is marked by massive socioeconomic inequalities which affect the (in-)visibility regimes of that urban space. Social media practices weave another layer into the urban fabric. According to a study about New York, social media tend to heighten inequalities rather than flattening them: “Every world city has large inequalities in income, wealth, social well-being, and access to services. Social media sharing adds new inequalities.”77 Existing patterns of visibility and centrality in Rio continue to lever strong effects as we want to show with a video made by the ‘midiacoletiva’. This video entitled “No Leblon a PM não se confunde”78 (In Leblon the Military Police is not getting confused) is based on an interview that two media activists made with a mother whose son was shot in Morro do Catrambi, a favela. The 16-year-old Jhonata was killed by the police, who later argued that they mistook a bag of popcorn with a weapon. In the interview produced by two influential, local media activists, the mother tearfully presents her version of the events and demands ‘justice’. Throughout the skilfully edited video, scenes filmed with a simple low-quality smartphone camera show the actual events of a crowd gathering around a police car into which the dead body of Jhonata is being pushed. After recounting this case, the video moves its narrative to a broader claim. Displaying newspaper articles about the police killing favela inhabitants, the video shows that the police may ‘mistake’ any object with a weapon in certain urban areas: A skateboard, a drilling machine, a telephone etc. have been used as excuses for police officers killing black inhabitants in favelas. On the other hand, not a single case of such confusion by the police has been reported in the upper-class neighborhood of Leblon. 77 For details see: Indaco, Augustin and Lev Manovich. “Urban Social Media Inequality: Definition, Measurements, and Application”. http://lab.culturalanalytics.info/2016/07/inequaligram-newproject-measuring.html (12/11/16). 78 Mídia Independente Coletiva, video “No Leblon pm não se confunde”. https://www.youtube. com/watch?v=bFIKP-IWnm8 (12/11/16).

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What happens here? The tools of the camera and social media channels are appropriated by media activists to make visible what too often remains invisible, that police violence is clearly targeted at certain populations (black people) in certain areas (favelas). The potential to produce and share such a video can be seen as one way in which social media and smartphones may create new forms of producing visibility and centrality, ones are in fact more ‘democratic’. Firstly, because they allow the spread of counter-narratives not treated by traditional media such as Globo, and secondly because such narratives can be disseminated outside ‘traditional’ media-networks. However, the resources necessary to claim centrality are not equally distributed in an unequal city like Rio: time, money for transport, technical knowhow, possessing technical devices for shooting and editing videos, a network to distribute information (especially beyond personalized networks), and many more factors. Despite these obvious limitations to ‘participation’ the in-built mechanism of personalization creates a situation of preaching to the choir. Critical activists end up speaking to themselves, because their work hardly escapes the filter bubbles of social media.

Digitalizing Difference After our discussion of digitalization as part of the urban fabric and showing how media activist practices effectively participate and appropriate the newly arising centralities of social media, we finally want to turn to the question of what kind of centrality media activist collectives and social media started to produce in Rio de Janeiro during the last decade. This brings us to the question, how have media activists dealt with the abstraction of space in the Web 2.0, and what practices of resistance did they develop within and beyond social media? By doing so, our focus shifts from individual protests or videos to broader processes of the institutionalization of media activism in Rio de Janeiro. During the swift rise of the Internet in the 1990s and early 2000s, developments seemed unpredictable, rapid and very speculative, including the implosion of the dot.com bubble in 2001. In the years following 2004, a new set of actors like Facebook, Wikipedia, YouTube successfully penetrated lucrative markets. Internet sites opened the Web for more participation, which fostered mutual communication beyond emailing and replaced the static information sites found in the Web 1.0. Largely handing over the process of content-production to the ‘prosumers’ enabled social media platforms to valorize the attention gathered by users. Information traces left by users can effectively be sold off as personalized data to advertising companies, which often belonged to the new Internet giants themselves, such as GoogleAds.

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Google’s executive chairman Eric Schmid, who is “proudly capitalistic”, and other Silicon Valley stars have found their model of attracting and financializing Internet users’ attention through social media platforms. Quickly spreading from the USA all over the globe, these companies have concentrated enormous financial power, based on the influx of massive amounts of data and their capability to process this. China-based Baidu or Russia-based VKontakte are among the few corporations with similar power, but they do not play a significant role in Brazil.79 While a relatively small elite of users with a plethora of different homepages marked the early days of the Internet, the Web 2.0 is characterized by social media platforms that, on the one side, massively increased their number of users, and, on the other side, decreased the variety of websites visited drastically. In the “monopsony” of Facebook, YouTube, Twitter etc., a few platforms have become the single “buyers” for the contents of billions of sellers.80 A few companies have managed to centralize power on a global scale with Silicon Valley as its geographical center. This metropole in California produces abstract spaces and abstract centralities. In the end it does not matter to Facebook what contents are shared, but how users’ data can be profiled and then most efficiently sold off to advertisers. The quality of a statement turns into a quantifiable exchange value and, in the end, it might seem irrelevant to companies like Facebook whether users prefer to share videos of cats or protests.81 Nevertheless, the Internet and Web 2.0 sites have offered new ways of communication for activists in contrast to ‘traditional’ media broadcasting and print. Activists’ appropriations of the Internet have their own story. Around the time of the Battle of Seattle and the following ‘anti-globalization’ movement, e-mail lists and especially the news site Indymedia functioned as major media for activist communications.82 The goal of these attempts was to build the web as differential space, in contrast to the production of abstract spaces pushed for by social media corporations. 79 Among the top ten most visited sites on the Internet, there are only three companies – Baidu, Vkontakte and Tencent QQ – that are not directly linked to the USA. In the case of Brazil, Globo is the most effective in attracting user’s attention (ranked in the fifth position) according to the Amazon-owned Alexa Traffic Rank: https://www.alexa.com/topsites/countries/BR (11/02/18). 80 Mejias, Off the Network, 33. 81 Pariser describes, for example, Facebook’s “like-problem”, due to which complex and tragic content tends to become less visible: “In a personalized world, important but complex or unpleasant issues  –  the rising prison population, for example, or homelessness  –  are less likely to come to our attention at all.” Pariser, Filter Bubble, 15. 82 See for example Hamm, Marion. “Indymedia – Concatenations of Physical and Virtual Spaces”. http://www.meetopia.net/virus/pdf-ps_db/Hamm_Indymedia-Concatenations_of-Physical_ and_Virtual_Spaces.pdf (19/12/16).

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The tension between the abstraction of space through social media and, simultaneously, the appropriation of those social media itself by media activist practices in Rio de Janeiro offers interesting insights into the struggle for differential centralities. At first, media activist practices focused on the confrontation with the traditional media such as Globo. The ‘Jornadas de Junho’ in 2013 was a formative time for Rio’s scene of media activism. Media activist collectives started to form, merge and dissolve, often drawing on pre-existing networks of friendship and solidarity. Over time, the media collectives then started to form identities that assembled around practical issues such as the use of a name, a logo, and regular meetings and activities as well as more ideological issues.83 Some collectives, for example, claimed that media activism can only be practiced when the collective and its members remain independent from any form of financial support, as the acceptance of external money would inevitably lead to co-optation and corruption of the independence of media activism. The acceptance or denial of alliances granting institutional financial support had different effects on collectives. It fostered the closing down of some media-collectives, their merging, or increasing tensions amongst (media) activists that accepted or rejected alliances. Living in Rio de Janeiro’s ‘abstract spaces’ and practicing media activism to produce ‘differential spaces’ inevitably leads into Theodor W. Adorno’s pessimistic contradiction: “There is no right life in the wrong one.”84 The financial pressure of media activists to make a living has created massive tensions. On the one hand, the pseudo-participatory character of social media85 allowed media activists to distribute their counter-narratives for ‘free’ via social media platforms and thus gain a louder voice in media discourses. On the other hand, this distribution was never really free as all the income generated by social media is not shared with the producers of content, who struggle to keep up their activities, oftentimes in financially precarious situations. The reactions of media activist collectives differed. While some collectives like MidiaNinja were quick to accept money and alliances, others rejected any such form of cooperation like Midia Independente Coletiva. The pressure to win over their own resources grew for those media activist collectives, who continued their

83 These debates partially corresponded and partially overcame ideological division lines within and between collectives. While some media activists identify as anarchists, others identify as Maoists or more generally Marxists and some as reformist leftists. This affects the possibilities of alliances, for example with the former ruling party PT (Partido dos Trabalhadores). 84 See Adorno, Theodor W. Minima Moralia. Frankfurt a.M.: Suhrkamp, 1994, 42. (Translation: https://www.marxists.org/reference/archive/adorno/1951/mm/ch01.htm (28/08/18)). 85 Fuchs, Social Media.

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work much beyond 2013. Media activists struggled to earn money besides their time-consuming activities and they needed to find ways to finance the professionalization of their media activism. In 2016, the collectives of Mídia Independente Coletiva and Mariachi joined their efforts to launch their own homepage: www.midiacoletivo.org. This attempt aimed at becoming independent from social media sites like Facebook. The creation of independent homepages signified a second level of emancipation, which can be read as the production of differential centralities after the collectives had established themselves successfully. This very brief analysis shows that (media) activists occupation of centrality on the ‘streets’ and in the ‘net’ opened new avenues after the June 2013 protests. Certainly, the digitalization affects urban movements, but social media does not produce ‘differential centralities’ as such, but is deeply ingrained in capitalistic productions of abstract spaces and abstract centralities. Within these, media activists have carved out resistant practices: first by appropriating the social media platforms and secondly by emancipating themselves from them through the creation of their own homepages. However, these endeavors occur in the context of neoliberal capitalism, which poses serious practical obstacles to (media) activists. Negotiating the trade-offs of independence and continued engagement will remain a complicated challenge. Whether, and to what degree, media activists manage to navigate the thin line of producing differential centralities means carving out spaces for resistant practices, within the abstract spaces of social media, will only be answered practically.

Conclusion “There’s class warfare, all right,” Mr. Buffett said, “but it’s my class, the rich class, that’s making war, and we’re winning.”86 “It’s called capitalism,” he said. “We are proudly capitalistic. I’m not confused about this.”87

What can we say about the digitalization of urban movements? What are the transformations in the relations or (urban) space, media and protests? In reviewing the

86 Stein, Ben: “In Class Warfare, Guess Which Class is Winning”. http://www.nytimes.com/2006/11/26/business/yourmoney/26every.html (12/11/16). 87 The Telegraph: “Google’s tax avoidance is called ‘capitalism’, says chairman Eric Schmidt”. http://www.telegraph.co.uk/technology/google/9739039/Googles-tax-avoidance-is-calledcapitalism- says-chairman-Eric-Schmidt.html (12/11/16).

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literature about online practices of activism, the tendencies to fragment, separate, and dichotomize online repertoires of contention appeared as predominant trends. Such forms of disintegration in knowledge production are highly problematic in our view, as they push processes of dis-integration, which obscure the relations between (urban) spaces, media and protests. Therefore, we transposed Henri Lefebvre’s concept of the right to ongoing processes of digitalization. ‘Digitalizing’ the right to the city adds new layers to the concept as well as the political struggle without ultimately altering the conceptual frame. Referring to Christian Schmid, we pointed out that the urban level remains relevant for understanding (social) media as well as protests and social movements. Secondly, we showed the potential changes of the production of centrality under the circumstances of digitalization. Finally, we looked at the character of the produced centrality by contrasting the production of abstract centralities and differential centralities. By applying some of these conceptual insights to the case of media activism in Rio, we illustrated how these transformations are practically being enacted, appropriated and resisted. The practices of media activists demand access to a differential centrality, which is based on the urban level: Lefebvre’s concrete utopia. We aim at reading those practices as ‘utopian practice’. Practices of media activists probe futures in the present when they attempt to appropriate capitalist social media for their anti-capitalist struggles. In direct action they challenge systems of governance, as well as academic practices of disintegrating urban space, media, and protests. Utopian practices are not limited to media activists’ actions of filming, but include projection collectives, urban inhabitants struggling for their homes, flâneurs demanding public space, protesters occupying streets and building camps, everyday forms of resistance and, not least, academics producing knowledge. Based on Lefebvrian thinking we claim that utopian practices of media activism can be seen as digitalizing urban movements, struggling for a right to the city. The strategic clarity as well as the contextual openness of the right to the city allows its employment as a concept, slogan88 and utopia simultaneously and shows the productivity of the often-times criticized vagueness in the Lefebvre’s writing. In fact, it has already been happening for many of years, the powerful combination of urban space, media and protest by activists everywhere to strengthen their political movements. They find themselves confronted with actors that have concentrated massive global power like Facebook and Google, actors who are ‘proudly capitalistic’. To disintegrate utopian practices – and even if it is ‘only’ for the sake of finding a heuristic approach – means artificially dividing activist practices and obscuring the complex power plays in the

88 Schmid, Henri Lefebvre.

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relations of (urban) space, media and protests. Unless academic scholars aim at disempowering social movements, they should be careful of the ways their knowledge production disintegrates practices and fosters the production of abstract spaces.

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Fuchs, Christian. Social Media. A Critical Introduction. Los Angeles/London/New Delhi/ Singapore/Washington DC: Sage, 2014. Galtung, John. “Violence, Peace, and Peace Research” Journal of Peace Research 6:3 (1969): 167–191. Gerbaudo, Paolo. Tweets and the Streets. London: Pluto Press, 2012. Göle, Nilüfer. “Gezi – Anatomy of a Public Square Movement” Insight Turkey 13:3 (2013): 7–14. Hamm, Marion. “Indymedia - Concatenations of Physical and Virtual Spaces”. http://eipcp.net/ transversal/0605/hamm/en (19/12/16). Harvey, David. “The Right to the City” New Left Review 53 (2008): 23–40. Indaco, Augustin and Lev Manovich. “Urban Social Media Inequality: Definition, Measurements, and Application”. http://inequaligram.net/(11/04/17). Jaguaribe, Beatrice. Rio de Janeiro. Urban Life through the Eyes of the City. Abingdon: Routledge, 2014. Juris, Jeffrey S. “Reflections on #Occupy Everywhere: Social Media, Public Space, and Emerging logics of aggregation” American Ethnologist 29:2 (2012): 259–279. Keck, Margaret E. and Kathryn Sikkink. Activists Beyond Borders: Advocacy Networks in International Politics. USA: Cornell University Press, 1998. Klandermans, Bert and Sjoerd Goslinga. “Media Discourse, Movement Publicity, and the Generation of Collective Action Frames. Theoretical and Empirical Exercises in Meaning Construction” In: Comparative Perspectives on Social Movements: Political Opportunities, Mobilizing Structures, and Cultural Framings, Doug McAdam, John D. Mccarthy and Mayer N. Zald (eds.), 312–337. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996. Klandermans, Bert, Jaqueline von Steklenburg and Stefan Walgrave. “Comparing Street Demonstrations” International Sociology, 29:6 (2014): 493–503. Kofman, Eleonore and Elizabeth Lebas. “Part I. Introduction” In: Lefebvre, Henri. Writings on Cities, Eleonore Kofman and Elizabeth Lebas (eds./trans.), 2–60. Cambridge: Blackwell Publishers, 1996. Laer, Jeroen Van and Peter Van Aelst. “Internet and Social Movement Action Repertoires” Information, Communication & Society, 13 (2010): 1146–71. Langman, Lauren. “From Virtual Public Spheres to Global Justice: a Critical Theory of Internetworked Social Movements” Sociological Theory 23:1 (2005): 42–74. Lopes de Souza, Marcelo. “Which Right to Which City? In Defense of Political-Strategic Clarity: Response to Harvey” Interface: a Journal for and about Social Movements 2:1 (2010): 315–333. Lefebvre, Henri. The Explosion. Marxism and the French Upheaval. New York/London: Monthly Review Press, 1969. Lefebvre, Henri. Metaphilosophie. Prolegomena. Frankfurt a. M.: Suhrkamp, 1975. Lefebvre, Henri. “Part II. The Right to the City” In: Lefebvre, Henri. Writings on Cities, Eleonore Kofman and Elizabeth Lebas (eds./trans.), 61–181. Cambridge: Blackwell Publishers, 1996. Lefebvre, Henri. The Urban Revolution. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2003. Lefebvre, Henri. Le droit à la ville. Paris: Economica-Anthropos, 2009 [1968]. Lefebvre, Henri. The Production of Space, Donald Nicholson-Smith (trans.). Oxford/Malden: Blackwell, 2011 [1974]. Manovich, Lev and Augustin Indaco. “Ineuqaligramm”. http://lab.culturalanalytics. info/2016/07/inequaligram-new-project-measuring.html (12/11/16). Mejias, Ulises Ali. Off the Network: Disrupting the Digital World. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2013.

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III. Applying Lefebvre: Literary Space

Tiziana Urbano

Walking Through Constructions, Playing in the Mud Practices of the City in Prefabricated Housing Settlements of the GDR Socialism (the new society, the new life) can only be defined concretely on the level of everyday life, as a system of changes in what can be called lived experience.1

Introduction “In Neubaugebieten bequem wohnen aber schlecht leben.”2 This sentence, quoted in a research report about the popularity rating of the film Insel der Schwäne (1983) – run in the same year by the Zentralinstitut für Jugendforschung in Leipzig –, makes a point about the essence and the debacle of the housing program in socialist Germany. In the 1980s, many prefabricated housing settlements situated next to the Kombinate (the conglomerates of the GDR) or at the outskirts of the big cities were still huge construction sites. The euphoria which had crowned the urban program launched almost thirty years before3 and promoted again by Erich Honecker in 1972 with his Wohnungsbauprogramm, was slowly turning into bitter disenchantment. Longer timescales, inefficiencies in project planning, most of all the growing awareness of the gap between the urban utopia and its fulfillment, had led to a lively debate among architects and urban planners about the habitability

1 Lefebvre, Henri. Critique to Everyday Life. Vol. I, John Moore (trans.). London: Verso, 1991, 49. 2 Wiedemann, Dieter (ed.): KINO 83: der Film “Insel der Schwäne” und sein Publikum. Forschungsbericht. Leipzig: Zentralinstitut für Jugendforschung (ZIJ), 1983. URN: http://nbnresolving.de/urn:nbn:de:0168-ssoar-385508, (27/09/16), 21. 3 The 16 Grundsätze des Städtebaus (Sixteen Principles of Urban Design), formulated in 1950, had drastically recoded the narrative on the urban and social space: “Städte ‚an sich’ entstehen nicht und existieren nicht. Die Städte werden in bedeutendem Umfang von der Industrie für die Industrie gebaut.” (“Cities tout court neither arise nor exist. To a significant extent, cities are built by industry and for industry.” trans. T.U.) – as cited in Peters, Paulhans. Eine Zukunft für die Karl-Marx-Alle, Hamburg: Doeling und Garlitz, 1997, 20. With the industrial realization of these ‘new cities’, conceived as a new paradigm of polis, we witness a commitment to prefabricated constructions and to huge, sterile housing complexes. https://doi.org/10.1515/9783110494983-008

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of the so-called Betonstädte, the concrete cities. The dictates of functionalism started to be questioned, and the ongoing status of most of these settlements to be criticized as never-ending construction sites, dormitories, an urban debacle. The socialist city, projected in the 1950s as the new urban setting for the Neuer Mensch, the socialist man,4 now revealed all its weak points.5 Among the gray, monotonous looking barracks and in the noise of cranes and diggers, the progressive icons and the rhetoric of newness sounded like a faint echo. Over the years the Platten (this was how the prefabricated concrete slabs were called), assembled into housing developments, had reshaped the citizens’ experience and the image of the city, along with the imagination of authors and film directors. These had started looking at the socialist ‘new cities’ with increased interest. Not only did these new urban landscapes offer scenarios for their stories, a setting which carried a new narrative of human relations and a new sense of community. Most of all, these ‘new cities’ could themselves be subjects of narratives and protagonists of stories. Fostered by the Bitterfelder Weg (during which writers were sent to working-sites throughout the East to get in touch with the real life of the socialist workers)6 and encouraged by the principles of Socialist Realism, writers and film directors reproduced in novels, pièces, literary reportages and films, the discourse on the socialist ‘new cities’. Sometimes enthusiastic, 4 The construction of socialism was grounded in the rhetoric of ‘newness’, conceived as an ideological statement against the old bourgeois Western society, which was blamed for carrying the main responsibility for fascism and WWII. The idea of educating and molding the “Neuer Mensch” (new human being) as comrade and (in the 1960s) as socialist personality was a fundamental part of this plan. Furthermore, the construction of new towns like Stalinstadt (now Eisenhüttenstadt), Hoyerswerda, Halle-Neustadt and Schwedt, was intended to reshape the urban setting for the socialist personality and the socialist lifestyle. The slogan “neues Wohnen für den neuen Menschen” (New Dwelling for the New Man) coincided with the peak of the Cold War. Indeed, this ‘new city’ paradigm represented the mise-en-scène of socialism as a social and urban model, based on the myth of collectivism and of solidarity among neighbors. In these years fictional texts and DEFA-movies brought on the stage this ‘new city’ imagery, with its euphoria and its contradictions. The shift from future euphoria to disenchantment has been excellently analyzed by Philipp Springer on his works on Schwedt. See, inter alia: Springer, Philippe. “Vom Verschwinden der Zukunft. Stadthistorische Überlegungen zum Utopieverlust in der sozialistischen Stadt Schwedt”. In: Deutsche Fragen. Von der Teilung zur Einheit, Heiner Timmermann (ed.), 451–464. Berlin: Duncker und Humblot Verlag, 2001. 5 The attempt to erase the historical past with the projects of mass-produced, modernist settlements has been analyzed by Eli Rubin in his monography about Berlin-Marzahn: Rubin, Eli. Amnesiopolis. Modernity, Space, and Memory in East Germany. Oxford: OUP, 2016. 6 The Bitterfelder Weg was an ideal route both workers and intellectuals were encouraged to take, starting from 1959, in order to overcome the gap between them. With the slogan “Schriftsteller in die Betriebe!” (“Writers into the Factories!”), GDR authors were fostered to join the socialist project, actively take part in the work in factories and report about the life of the socialist workers.

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over the years more critical, they devoted their work to the socialist urban projects. Here, they raised sociological and political issues about the contradictions of modernist urban planning and the conflicts inherent in the construction of these ‘new cities’. In this article, I focus on Lefebvre’s trialectic as a lens to explore the ambivalence of the socialist housing program as it was depicted by authors and film directors. In their work they showed the urban space as conceived and planned by architects and urban planners (which I would describe with Lefebvre as espace conçu), yet they would also offer alternative angles. On the one hand, they would turn the attention to the agency of the dwellers who, in their everyday spatial practices (defined by Lefebvre as espace perçu), re-shape the city and re-articulate the narrative on dwelling patterns. On the other hand, they would advocate the strong power of imagination and representation (in Lefebvre’s triad codified as espace vécu) to appropriate city space and produce a counter-discourse on the socialist city.7 Focusing on the urban projects of these years, in this article I reflect on the concept of city in the GDR as it was centrally shaped by the housing policy of the SED (Socialist Unity Party) and negotiated by its inhabitants. I deal with the complex strategies of everyday life, which move inside officially structured spaces, yet have the creative agency to mold and re-read them, and to subvert the sozialistische Wohnkultur, the prescriptive housing culture of the GDR. Then, going beyond the space of planners, politicians and administrators, and its normative character, I linger on those space settings disclosed by practices of space and by spaces of imagination and loaded with the creative power of counter-narration. On the one hand the dwellers re-shape the city through space consumption and spatial strategies (spatial practices), on the other hand they can also appropriate it through imagination (representational space). Lefebvre ascribes to the latter the potentiality of a creative work, a 7 In his book The Production of Space Lefebvre approaches space as a social product and argues that space does not exist in any absolute, a priori form. Instead, space is always the result of a negotiation between our conception of space – abstract, mental and geometric – , our concrete, material, physical perception of space (the space that we use and that belongs to our everyday experience), and the experienced space that the imagination seeks to change and appropriate. Lefebvre theorizes a spatial triad (espace conçu, perçu and vécu) which describes these three moments of representations of space (conceived space), spatial practice (perceived space) and spaces of representation (lived space). According to this vision, architecture is not exclusively the plain, material realization of an urban plan; it mirrors the dominant conception of space in any society, in that it “intervene[s] in and modif[ies] spatial textures which are informed by effective knowledge and ideology”. See Lefebvre, Henri. The Production of Space, Donald NicholsonSmith (trans.). London: Blackwell Publ., 1991, 38 f. emphasis by the author.

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poiesis of the urban space which opens the potential for dynamics of spatial resistance.8 Both practices and imagination can challenge the hegemonic semantic of the city and the prescriptive patterns of dwelling underlying the GDR city planning. In this paper, I show two main urban projects of the GDR: Hoyerswerda, conceived as a holistic city, and Berlin-Marzahn, the largest hyper-settlement in European history. First, I look at Hoyerswerda through the eyes of Franziska, the main character of the DEFA-film Unser kurzes Leben (directed by Lothar Warneke, 1981), which is the screen adaption of Brigitte Reimann’s novel Franziska Linkerhand (1974). Then, I follow Stefan, a 14-year-old boy exploring the prefabricated concrete slabs of Berlin-Marzahn in the DEFA-film Insel der Schwäne (directed by Hermann Zschoche, 1983), a screen adaption of the homonymous children’s book written by Benno Pludra (1980). Finally, I analyze the counternarrative of an ideal, emotionally loaded urban space produced by the imagination of Brigitte Reimann in a short film broadcasted in 1970 and directed by Bernd Scharioth, Sonntag, den … Briefe aus einer Stadt. Through this investigation I show that fictional works can be analyzed as significant cultural sources and documents of the historical discourse. From the point of view of cultural studies, they emerge as precious sources of information about social and historical facts, means to comment and reflect upon habits and practices of everyday life and to enter not just into politics and big events, but also into “the beliefs, daily struggles, and mentality of the people who made up the greater fabric of human history”.9 According to this bottom-up perspective, looking into cultural history means considering that literary and non-literary texts circulate inseparably. Indeed, the legacy of New Historicism and of the

8 Lefebvre’s criticism of the space of urban planners opens the possibility of spatial resistance to the conceived urban order. Lefebvre considers the body as the site of resistance to the abstract, mental and geometric space. In his idea of actively, physically inhabiting the city, he ascribes to the users a crucial role in the demand for urban life and in the capacity for everyday resistance. In The Production of Space he writes about social space: “[it] contains potentialities – of work and of re-appropriation – existing to begin with in the artistic sphere but responding above all to the demands of a body ‘transported’ outside itself in space, a body which by putting up resistance inaugurates the project of a different space (either the space of a counter-culture, or a counterspace in the sense of an initially utopian alternative to actually existing ‘real’ space)”. Lefebvre, Production, 349. Lefebvre’s concept of resistance is always resistance to capitalist urbanism and social relations, yet, his idea that the urban constitutes a revolution which occurs through acts of resistance has widely been appropriated beyond the Marxist frame of reference by now. 9 Sullivan, Erin. “Culture, Literature, and the History of Medicine” Medical History 55:4 (2011): 541–548, https://doi.org/10.1017/S0025727300004993 (27/09/16).

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Annales school proves that a mosaic of small stories can contribute – just as much as socio-historical documents – to “actively make history”.10 Finally, this essay explores the possibilities of applying to fictional works Lefebvre’s spatial triad, along with his concepts of the production of space and of the residual. Referring to Céline, De Quincey and Baudelaire, Lefebvre himself points out that literature can offer tools for approaching space under the three fields of physical, mental and social which constitutes it, as “any search for space in literary texts will find it everywhere and in every guise: enclosed, described, projected, dreamt of, speculated about”.11 Furthermore, he argues in his Critique of Everyday Life that, more than through philosophical works, it is through literary or cinematic works that we can get evidence of the contradictions of everyday life and track the consciousness of alienation and the efforts towards disalienation.12 Bringing together fictional works and social theory will show how the first can operate as a looking-glass that reflects the dynamics of the socio-cultural contexts, both in the processes which affect them and in the everyday life struggle to remain free from the structures which discipline them. With Lefebvre we will move along residual spaces and transgressive spatial practices of everyday life in the typical Plattenbausiedlungen of the GDR, and look for those liminal, interstitial spaces where the urban landscape gets re-read and re-coded. We will also discover to what extent fictional works are documents of the physiognomy of these urban landscapes, narratives of lived spaces, or spaces which can evoke another dimension of urbanity.

10 Bertens, Hans. Literary Theory. The Basics. London/New York: Taylor & Francis, 2008, 140, emphasis by the author. The turn brought about by New Historicism is a contextualized analysis of literary texts, as they are considered embedded in a network of material practices. According to this vision, literary texts can be analyzed in the same way that we analyze historical documents, so that the distinction between document of history and fictional work of art blurs. 11 Lefebvre, Production, 15. 12 [...] the distance between what is expressed and the means of expression itself must be bridged by a double-edged line of thought: on the one hand, by explaining each work in the light of real life; and on the other by seeking to discover what we can learn about that life as it was, in the literary work which has ‘expressed’ it”. Lefebvre, Critique, 187. Despite his idea of bridging life and literary works, Lefebvre has not been largely received in these fields of studies, yet. On the approach of text and media analysis to Lefebvre see Bauer, Jenny. Geschlechterdiskurse um 1900. Literarische Identitätsentwürfe im Kontext deutsch-skandinavischer Raumproduktion. Bielefeld: Transcript, 2016, 70–72.

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1 The Hegemony of Cartography and the Discourse on the Socialist ‘Neustadt’ In 1981 the director Lothar Warneke brings Brigitte Reimann’s most famous, unfinished novel Franziska Linkerhand to the screen, and entitles it Unser kurzes Leben.13 Franziska is a young architect who chooses to leave the city and the big urban projects of her mentor professor Reger and to take part in the realization of Neustadt, a city planned to be built according to industrial methods. Notwithstanding the bureaucracy and the ostracism of Schafheutlin, the head architect of the project, she embarks on a challenge: to rethink the urban plan of the city center by providing spaces for communication and social dimension. The plot is inspired by the experience of Brigitte Reimann in Hoyerswerda, the second city in the GDR entirely conceived and built according to industrial methods. Motivated by ideological conviction, the author moved here in 1960. Eight years later, after having experienced the contradictions and the crushing of the socialist building policy, she left the city with disillusion.

13 Published unfinished and posthumous in 1974 by Neues Leben Verlag, Franziska Linkerhand was Reimann’s best-selling novel. Before its printing, the novel was subjected to extensive cuts because of politically controversial passages. Only in 1998 did the Aufbau Verlag edit its uncensored version. Ever since its first publication, there had been plans of a film adaption of the novel. Initially, both the DEFA Studio and the East German television studio (Fernsehen der DDR) discussed a film project, which was to be directed by Rainer Simon. Yet, mostly because of controversial themes in Reimann’s novel (from its critical attitude towards GDR urban planning to the discussion of taboo themes like rape and suicide), the treatments languished unrealized. When the Fernsehen der DDR abandoned the project in 1979, the DEFA reassigned the idea to scriptwriter Regina Kühn and director Lothar Warneke, the latter known in the GDR for his documentary realism. On the genealogy of the film see Kannapin, Detlef and Hannah Lotte Lund. “‘Einen Film müsste man schreiben!’ Brigitte Reimann und die DEFA – Auskunft im Alltag der Filmpolitik” In: Apropos: Film 2003. Das 4. Jahrbuch der DEFA-Stiftung, Ralf Schenk and Erika Richter (eds.), 106–127. Berlin: Bertz + Fischer, 2003, 122. The novel is a realistic account of the urban project in Hoyerswerda, so that it can be considered an “architectural treatise on the socialist city in literary form”. Taverne, Ed, “Rise and Fall of the ‘Second Socialist City’. Hoyerswerda-Neustadt” In: Ideals in Concrete. Exploring Central and Eastern Europe, Cor Wagenaar and Mieke Dings (eds.), 117–121. Rotterdam: Nai Publishers, 2004, 117. The film is a more conciliatory version of the novel. It sounds almost like a Bildungsroman which focuses on Franziska’s personal maturation more than on architectural questions. For this reason, in this article I will also quote from the book (in the uncensored edition) and refer to its more explicit critique of the urban project in Neustadt. Besides, the film has never been particularly popular even in the GDR and has been outside the commercial circuits until 2015, when it was distributed by Absolut Medien.

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In the GDR industrial methods were officially introduced into urban planning with the resolutions of the first Baukonferenz (Building Conference) in 1955. They followed the guidelines established by the 16 Grundsätze des Städtebaus (Sixteen Principles of Urban Design) and by the new Aufbaugesetzt (Reconstruction Law) of 1950, based on the idea of a more efficient construction system, as epitomized by the running Soviet slogan “besser, billiger und schneller Bauen” (building better, cheaper and faster).14 In 1957 the foundation stone of Hoyerswerda was laid, a socialist city built under the banner of rhetoric newness, planned to become a symbol of the ‘new city’ conceived for the new, socialist man. Indeed, Hoyerswerda did not embody just a paradigm change in the building methods. It was a social experiment, developed from the idea of creating a socialist society out of a random mixture of people: workers with rural backgrounds coming from different districts of East Germany, very different groups with diverse regional routes, Sorbs along with Germans.15 The project was led by the architect Richard Paulick and envisaged the construction of apartment buildings around a city center, equipped with schools, kindergartens and four big department stores. The central square had been planned as meeting place for the residents, a place to foster the neighborly character of the city. Yet, twenty years after its foundation, the entire city center was still missing. What had the social experiment turned into? Reimann describes it in the novel through her character, Franziska: “Ein Schlafviertel,16 […] ein Labyrinth aus Beton, anonymen Straßen und Wohnsilos für eine geplante und statistisch

14 Industrial building methods had been introduced in the USSR in 1954 by Soviet premier Nikita Khrushchev, who had strongly denounced the opulent aesthetic of the Stalin era, full of superfluous neoclassic decorations. The slogan “Building better, cheaper and faster” (in Russian “строить быстро, дëшево, хорошо!”) is the propagandistic title under which the Germans published his December 1954 speech at the All Union Conference of Builders and Architects. In 1955, this slogan became the credo in the GDR for a shift towards an architecture of prefabricated modules, low costs and cheap materials. See de Graaf, Reinier. Four Walls and a Roof: The Complex Nature of a Simple Profession. Harvard: Harvard University Press, 2017, 35. 15 Even the street names in Hoyerswerda were bilingual. On the project of Hoyerswerda as social experiment see the interesting analysis offered by Angela Paul-Kohlhoff in her essay “Hoyerswerda – eine besondere Stadt?” In: Eigensinnige Geographien: Städtische Raumaneignungen als Ausdruck gesellschaftlicher Teilhabe, Malte Bergmann and Bastian Lange (eds.), 127–146. Wiesbaden: VS-Verlag, 2011. 16 Reimann, Brigitte. Franziska Linkerhand. Berlin: Aufbau Taschenbuch, 2004 [7th ed.], 566. All quotations henceforth refer to this edition, with my own translations.

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erfaßbare Menge von Bewohnern…”17 Franziska is talking about the Kombinatstadt Neustadt, the fictional city where the novel is set. Yet, through her perception the author actually refers to its factual equivalent Hoyerswerda. Along with Eisenhüttenstadt and Schwedt, Hoyerswerda had been conceived as an autonomous, all-encompassing and holistic city. When the writer Brigitte Reimann moved there in 1960 in the wake of the Bitterfelder Weg, she took part in the debate about the monotony of these new urban projects. In those years, she read specialized works of architects and urbanists18 and corresponded with Hermann Henselmann, the most famous architect of East Germany, father of the monumental projects of East Berlin. Controversial was her participation in 1963 in the Nationalrat on the construction of Hoyerswerda, where she denounced the lack of intimacy in the town with the provocative contribution “Kann man in Hoyerswerda küssen?” (“Can one kiss in Hoyerswerda?”), as well as her critical article in the local newspaper Lausitzer Rundschau.19 In her novel too, inspired by this experience, she criticizes – through her character Franziska – the monotony and inhospitality in Hoyerswerda. Franziska is very demanding in her role as an architect. She believes that an architect does not merely draw houses, but rather lets people thrive through a common language, laws and moral norms, contributing to shape a sense of community.20 Yet, later in the novel, frustrated by the routine of her standardized tasks, Franziska starts questioning the role of architects: “Ist es noch möglich, in einem Bau einen Gedanken, wenigstens einen Vorschlag für das Zusammenleben von Menschen zu gestalten?”21 Franziska has a humanistic approach to architecture,22 17 Reimann, FL, 244. “[…] a sleeping quarter, […] a labyrinth of concrete, anonymous streets and housing silos for a planned and statistically assessable number of inhabitants...”. 18 Among them, Die Unwirtlichkeit der Stadt by Alexander Mitscherlich (1965) and The City in History by Lewis Mumford (1964). 19 Reimann, Brigitte. “Bemerkungen zu einer neuen Stadt” Lausitzer Rundschau, 17/08/63. 20 “[Architekten bauen] Städte […], [schaffen] Organismen […], die für das Zusammenleben so wichtig sind wie eine gemeinsame Sprache, Gesetze, moralische Normen.” Reimann, FL, 276. “[architects] build cities, create organisms which are as relevant for the communal life as a common language, laws, moral rules.” 21 Reimann, FL, 336. “Is it still possible to model in a building an idea, or at least a suggestion for the communal life?” 22 “[…] ich fühlte mich […] berauscht von dem Verlangen […] Häuser zu bauen, die ihren Bewohner das Gefühl von Freiheit und Würde geben, die sie zu heiraten und noblen Gedanken bewegen”, Reimann, FL, 122. “[…] I felt […] inebriated by the need […] to build houses that give their dwellers a sense of freedom and dignity, that motivate them to get married and to noble thoughts.”

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as in her mind architecture, like painting, music and philosophy, contributes to the education of the spirit (Seelenbildung).23 In Neustadt she observes the social consequences of standardized urban planning: boredom, aggression, suicide, alcoholism. She feels sick and bored also as an architect and complains with Schafheutlin: “Gut... Fleißig, brav, doof. Das mache ich doch mit der linken Hand… Abends fühle ich mich wie ein Meerschweinchen, das den ganzen Tag seine Trommel gedreht hat...”24 Notwithstanding Schafheutlin’s lack of enthusiasm, Franziska decides to embark on the project of the city center. However, in the all-encompassing project of the modernist socialist city, her attempt to deviate from the dominant space plan is doomed to fail. Her project would win the competition, but its realization would be indefinitely postponed.25 In a flashback she recalls her idea of a street and of the vision of the city it carried with it. Of the project nothing more than a scratch on the draft was left. Die Kratzspur auf einer Karte: ein gestampfter, gewalzter, gegossener Bogen, […] eine Gegenwart, die schon die Zukunft der armen Landschaft einbezog, Häuser, Läden, Reklamen, die ihre Farben entfalten von Hellrot bis Karmesin, von Blaßblau bis Violett, und Augen, Schritte, Silberglanz von Aluminiumhaut, Regenschirme, Lichtwürfel der Vitrine, Kino, […] Autos, ihre Reifenspuren wie ein Geschling von schwarzen, noch druckfeuchten Spruchbändern.26

Through this literary work we move inside a pure sociological issue: What kind of urban space is produced in these ‘new cities’? Franziska observes the dwellers 23 “Architektur [trägt] im gleichen Maß zur Seelenbildung bei wie Literatur und Malerei, Musik und Philosophie”. Reimann, Brigitte. “Diary entry from 11/06/1963” In: Ich bedaure nichts: Tagebücher 1955–1963, Angela Drescher (ed.). Berlin: Aufbau, 2000, 238. 24 Reimann, FL, 277. “Good...diligent, tame, dumb. I can do that hands down...In the evenings I feel like a guinea pig that has been running the entire day in a wheel...” Here the author seems to play with the character’s name, Linker-hand, as, in contrast to her ideal of architecture, the assignment Franziska carries out in Neustadt sounds more like a beginner’s task, something she could do ‘with the left hand’. Furthermore, Franziska is the only woman in the architects’ studio and, with her ideals and enthusiasm about urban planning, she would remain for her colleagues and for Schafheutlin always an outsider, awkward, left-handed. 25 The dimension of provisionality of life (Neustadt is defined in the book and in the film as a “Provisorium”) is another important topos of the socialist cities thematized in the novel. 26 Reimann, FL, 421. “The scratch marks on a map: a stamped, rolled, cast bow, […] a present already containing the future of the poor landscape, houses, stores, advertisement, unfolding their colors from light red to crimson, from pale blue to violet, and eyes, steps, bright silver of aluminum skin, umbrellas, light cubes of the showcases, cinema, […] cars, their tire marks resembling a pluck of black banners, still wet from the press.”

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in their everyday life, how they relate to the city and how they shape its character. And she comes to desolate conclusions: Neustadt is “eine amputierte Stadt” (“an amputated city”).27 It offers mere residence, a place to sleep, a door one can close behind oneself, the old game of family life between bed and table, nothing more.28 How should the dwellers connect to such a city? Franziska recounts: “Mit der Dunkelheit […] kommt die Furcht, jedenfalls das Gefühl, nicht sicher zu sein: diese Straßen haben keine Augen und Ohren.”29 In a letter to Hermann Henselmann Brigitte Reimann describes the inhospitality of Hoyerswerda with a similar feeling of uneasiness: Mir bereitet es physisches Unbehagen, wenn ich durch die Stadt gehe – mit ihrer tristen Magistrale, mit Trockenplätzen zwischen den Häusern [...], mit einer pedantischen und zudem unpraktischen Straßenführung […], mit Typenhäusern, Typenläden, in denen man eben nur seinen Bedarf an Brot und Kohl deckt, mit Typenlokalen, die nach Durchgangsverkehr und Igelit riechen.30

The plot of the novel (and of the film) revolves around the conflict between Franziska’s vision of the city and the functional, standardized urban landscape planned according to the official diktat. The critique to the limit of the cartographic gaze on the city is expressed at its most distinct in the film adaptation, Unser kurzes Leben. The film shows very few images of the city and of construction sites, and very few scenes of the intimate spaces of an interior. Moreover, the camera follows the discussions and the work in the architects’ studio, not showing the real city, but its plan, the cartography of the city (see Figure 1 ). Even though the city is co-protagonist of the plot, in the film we experience it almost exclusively from the perspective of the architects. That is the dimension of the espace conçu, the representation of space, the normative space delineated by city planners and urbanists.

27 Reimann, FL, 359. 28 “sie bietet Wohnung, Schlafstätte, eine Tür, die man hinter sich abschließen kann, das alte Spiel Familienleben zwischen Tisch und Bett, nicht mehr.” Reimann, FL, 359. 29 Reimann, FL, 255. “With darkness […] comes fear, at least the feeling not to be safe: these streets have neither eyes nor ears.” 30 Reimann, Brigitte. “Letter to Henselmann of 06/06/1963” In: Briefwechsel: Brigitte Reimann – Hermann Henselmann, Ingrid Kirschey-Feix (ed.). Berlin: Neues Leben, 1994, 7. “I feel physical distress when I walk through the city – with its depressing main street, its drying areas between the houses […], with a pedantic and even unfunctional street system […], with standard houses, standard stores, where you just supply your need for bread and cabbage, with standard restaurants that smell like transit and polyvinyl.” (trans. T.U.)

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Figure 1: Unser kurzes Leben, Architects’ studio. Franziska and Schafheutlin with the plan of Neustadt, Warneke, Lothar: Unser kurzes Leben, GDR 1981 (2015). TC: 00:42:10. (©DEFA-Stiftung/Claus Neumann.)

At this level we witness the contrast between the restricted cartographic gaze of the head architect Schafheutlin and Franziska’s vision of the city as a place to feel at home in. When he welcomes Franziska in his team Schafheutlin is strictly factual: Wir haben keine Zeit für Spielereien. Wir haben nur eine Aufgabe: Wohnungen für unsere Werktätigen zu bauen, so viele, so schnell, so billig wie möglich.31

He carefully designs and plans the urban space following all the official instructions, without considering what really is at stake when you plan a city: that people feel safe and comfortable, that they can emotionally connect with it, find places of retreat and places for communication, and experience the city as a cultural mediator. Franziska criticizes Schafheutlin’s vision of architecture:

31 Reimann, FL, 144. “We don’t have time to play around. We have only a task: to build apartments for our workers, as many, as fast, as cheap as possible.”

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Bauen heute? Die Fabrikation eines Massenartikels. Der Architekt heute? Zulieferer ohne Beziehung zur fertigen Ware. Sein Arbeitsethos: vorgegebene Kennziffern einhalten; sein Ehrgeiz: Zeichnungen termingerecht abliefern.32

Lefebvre himself reflects upon the limits of the cartographic gaze of the architects. In The Production of Space he writes: Let us for a moment consider the space of architecture and of architects [...]. It is easy to imagine that the architect has before him a slice or piece of space cut from larger wholes [...]. His ‘subjective’ space is freighted with all-too-objective meanings. It is a visual space, a space reduced to blueprints, to mere images – to that ‘world of image’ which is the enemy of the imagination. [...] architectural discourse [...] too often imitates or caricatures the discourse of power […]. [The architect] has a representation of this space, one which is bound to graphic elements – to sheets of paper, plans, elevations, sections, perspective views of façades, modules, and so on.33

Compared with this abstract space (espace conçu), the space of the users and of everyday activities is a concrete one. Franziska is aware of this gap. As an architect, she dreams to contribute to plan a city in which the socialist urban ideal could merge with the dimension of everyday life, das Wohnen und das Leben. The film begins with the words of her former mentor, the prestigious architect Reger: “Architekten schaffen den Raum für das Leben! In welcher Sprache gibt es noch, dass Leben und Wohnen verschiedene Begriffe sind?”34 Reger does not assign to architects the mere task of conceiving a functional, abstract space, but moreover the creative agency of shaping a whole way of living. He claims for an allencompassing role for the architects, who are at the same time urban planners and poets.35 32 Reimann, FL, 391. “Building today? Mass fabrication. The architect today? A supplier with no connection to the ready-made articles. His work ethic: to stick to prescribed parameters; his ambition: to hand in work sketches on time.” 33 Lefebvre, Production, 360 f. 34 Warneke, Lothar, Unser kurzes Leben, GDR 1981. Version: DVD, absolut MEDIEN, 2015. TC: 00:00:19-00:00:25. In the novel (and in the film) Reger had played a significant role in the reconstruction of the Leipziger Gewandhaus. The figure of Reger is inspired by the prestigious architect Hermann Henselmann. “Architects produce space for housing! In which further language do you find that residence and housing are two different concepts?” (trans. T.U., emphasis of the translator). The terms ‘residence’ and ‘housing’ in the translation are expressively borrowed from the concepts Lefebvre articulates in The Production of Space. See below for more details (fn. 36). 35 “[…] ich sehe, was in einem Architekten steckt, wenn er mir drei Striche aufs Papier zeichnet; das sind die drei Zeile, an denen man den Dichter erkennt”. Warneke, UkL. TC: 00:01:41-00:01:51.

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Reading this with Lefebvre, his vision seems to attempt an Aufhebung of Lefebvre’s trialectic. His ideal of architect as a poet recodes Lefebvre’s concept of poiesis (ποιέω) as a process of signification of the urban space. Yet, Reger ascribes this poiesis not only to the symbolic sphere of the espace vécu but also to the conceptualized space of the planners (espace conçu). Merging the functional and the creative sides overcomes Lefebvre’s idea of space as object of controversy among actors, as for Reger the architects are in the first place in charge of producing an urban space where the dwellers can establish social relations and feel at home.36 Compared to Reger’s idea of architecture as “sozialer Auftrag”,37 in Schafheutlin’s opinion neither the architects nor the dwellers are able to really produce space.38 The novel represents Franziska’s attempt to create a synthesis between these two ideas and ends with her wish to find the point of intersection between monotonous industrial urban planning and lively cities, between necessity and beauty: Es muß, es muß sie geben, die kluge Synthese zwischen Heute und Morgen, zwischen tristem Blockhaus und heiter lebendiger Straße, zwischen dem Notwendigen und dem

“I see what an architect is capable of when he draws three lines on the paper; those are the three lines in which I recognize a poet.” (trans. T.U.) 36 Lefebvre sees the crisis in dwelling in the moment when the housing, which belongs to the realm of architecture, has replaced the residence. Quoting Hölderlin (“Man resides as a poet”), he also ascribes to the idea of residing a poetic resonance. See Lefebvre, Production, 314. Lefebvre describes the opposition ‘housing’ – ‘residence’ also with the dialectic ‘habitat’ – ‘habiter’ (the latter has been translated in English both as ‘dwelling’ and as ‘to inhabit’). Whereas the ‘habitat’ is brought to its purest form in large housing estates, as a burden of constraints, ‘habiter’ revolves around inhabitants, dwellers, who in this burden of constraints are able to find “margins of initiative and freedom”. On the dialectic ‘habitat’ – ‘habiter’ see also Lefebvre, Henri. “Industrialization and Urbanization” In: Lefebvre, Henri. Writings on Cities, Eleonore Kofman and Elizabeth Lebas (trans./eds.), 65–85. Cambridge (MA): Blackwell, 1996, 79. Lefebvre’s use of ‘habiter’ is actually a direct translation of Heidegger’s Wohnen. Also, his idea that habiter has been reduced to the notion of habitat echoes Heidegger’s concept of a crisis in dwelling. In his discussion of Lefebvre, John F. C. Turner has proposed an analysis where the word “housing” can be read as a product (habitat, a noun) or as a process (to inhabit, a verb). See Turner, John F. C. “Housing as a Verb” In: Freedom to Build: Dweller Control of the Housing Process, John F. C. Turner and Robert Fichter (eds.), 148–175. New York: Macmillan, 1972. 37 Reimann, FL, 269. 38 “der Wohnende [hat] vom Wohnen ja noch unklarere Vorstellungen […] als der Bauende.” Reimann, FL, 155. (“the dweller [has] even less clear ideas of dwelling […] than the builder.”)

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Schönen, und ich bin ihr auf der Spur, hochmutig und ach, wie oft, zaghaft, und eines Tages werde ich sie finden.39

If Franziska’s attempts to reshape the city space at the theoretical, conceptual level of the espace conçu fails, it is in the moment of the espace vécu, in the lived space, that she really manages to deviate from the hegemonic discourse and appropriate the urban space as a user. She discovers her own agency by using the objects and the space around her in a subversive way. Sometimes just in her mind, trying to escape the intrusive functionality of her apartment with a glimpse of emotional individuality, such as when she wishes to beat a mattress, to cry in the pillow and to dream impure dreams in her functional bed. Or when she decides to join the other women gathered around a young woman in labor. Franziska knows that the functionally designed apartments are not conceived as places for birth, yet the intensity of the moment challenges the cold monotony of the place and re-establishes an emotional bond to it. However, it is as a woman that she manages to appropriate the city as space of intimacy and love. In a pub Franziska meets Trojanowicz, a former journalist who, in the wake of repression against dissident intellectuals following the 1956 uprising in Hungary, works now as dump-truck driver. Notwithstanding his marriage, he starts an affair with Franziska. The affair arouses profound passionate feelings in her but stays unofficial: It is lived at the margins, outside the visual and spatial frame of Neustadt, like their first night together in Berlin or a day trip at the outskirts of Neustadt. Here, Franziska ‘breaks the rules’. When they end up in a street surrounded by an undeveloped land and blocked by a sign (probably one of the forgotten corners of the urban plan, or one of the many never-ending construction sites), Franziska runs to the stop sign “Betreten verboten” (No trespassing). Then, she turns to Trojanowicz and calls “Also, gehen wir!” (So, let’s go!), leaping over the chain (see Figure 2). With this gestus she appropriates a space disciplined by a functionalist urban planning and recodes it as space for intimacy and love. By subverting the prescriptive rules, she shows that urban spaces can be used in ways that are different than previously planned. The act of trespassing turns the street into a

39 Reimann, FL, 602 f. “It must, it must exist, the intelligent synthesis between today and tomorrow, between dreary slab houses and lively, cheerful streets, between necessity and beauty, and I am on its track, brave and oh, how often, hesitant, and one day I will find it.”

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Figure 2: Unser kurzes Leben, Franziska: “Also, gehen wir” (“So, let’s go!”) Warneke, UkL. TC: 01:19:46. (©DEFA-Stiftung/Claus Neumann.)

space of representation, espace vécu, that Franziska appropriates, symbolically opening her heart to the love story with Trojanowicz.40 Reimann’s unfinished novel ends with hope: Franziska still believes to find a synthesis between the two dimensions of Wohnen and Leben, between the espace conçu and the moments of espace perçu and espace vécu. Instead, the film offers a less utopian excipit and a more conciliatory tone. Here, Franziska learns to find the correct measure between her architectural ideals and the workplace. In reality, after having lived in Hoyerswerda for eight years, Brigitte Reimann would follow another path. We will meet her again.

40 For Lefebvre, holes, passages, labyrinths belong to the realm of representational spaces, as they can evocate imaginaries and impart symbolic meaning to spaces. Lefebvre also reflects on the lack of consistency of representations of space, in that they establish relations between objects and people which are doomed to break them up. On the other hand, “[r]epresentational space is alive: it speaks. It has an affective kernel or centre: Ego, bed, bedroom, dwelling, house; or: square, church, graveyard. It embraces the loci of passion, of action and of lived situations, […] [and] is essentially qualitative, fluid and dynamic.” Lefebvre, Production, 42 f.

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2 Residual Space and Transgressive Spatial Practices: Children Appropriate the ‘Moon City’

Figure 3: Insel der Schwäne, A city under construction, Zschoche, Hermann, Insel der Schwäne. GDR 1983 (2006). TC: 00:07:09. (©DEFA-Stiftung/Günter Jaeuthe.)

“Achtung Baustelle! Unbefugten ist der Zutritt verboten! Eltern haften für ihre Kinder.”41 When Stefan leaves his old house in the country, the bucolic setting and the island where the swans fly, and arrives in the new, modern urban landscape at the outskirts of Berlin, he does not find any lawns or playgrounds, but a huge construction site (see Figure 3). Stefan is the main character of Insel der Schwäne, a screenplay written by Ulrich Plenzdorf and directed in 1983 by Hermann Zschoche. Based on Benno Pludra’s homonymous novel (1980), the plot is narrated from the point of view of a fourteen-year-old boy.42 With a much more critical 41 “Construction ahead! Unauthorized access is forbidden! Parents are liable for their children.” (trans. T.U.) Zschoche, Hermann: Insel der Schwäne. GDR 1983. Version: DVD, Icestorm Entertainment GmbH, 2006. TC: 01:18:27. The quotations are my transcriptions from the film. 42 Benno Pludra was well known in the GDR as children’s author. Insel der Schwäne was one of his most successful novels. The film adaption started right after the book was published, but the rough cut did not get approved. Zschoche had to cut a couple of scenes and even change the open end before he could see his film released, in 1983. Nevertheless, because of its critical approach, the film did not get a warm reception in the GDR press, while in the FRG it was highly appreciated. On the film reception see Rutzen, Felix. Film als Spiegel gesellschaftlicher

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gaze and a less idealistic angle than Unser kurzes Leben, Insel der Schwäne deals with the reality of the prefabricated concrete slabs of the 1970es: sites under perpetual construction, high-rise blocks standing out of a desert of mud and gravel. The film is set at the outskirts of Berlin, in the district of Marzahn.43 Marzahn, still well-known for the sad monotony of its urban silhouette, was one of the central pillars of Honecker’s housing program launched in 1972. While Hoyerswerda had been conceived as a holistic project, Berlin-Marzahn was supposed to set a new trend in the housing program, where huge housing complexes should be built at the edges of big cities. However, because of construction delays, just a couple of years later Marzahn looked like a disturbing symbiosis of dormitories, barracks and construction sites. The image of the cranes moving slowly and clumsily had become a sort of marque, showing the exhausting urban stagnancy of the socialist utopia. The built environment had turned into a spatial metaphor of the debacle of the Aufbaumetaphorik, the rhetoric of constructing socialism. Zschoche’s film denounces this reality. The picture of this anonymous, cold city, of greyness and loneliness, shows the downside of this mass housing program, and articulates a bitter critique of the urban euphoria of these years. A condemnation that leaves no room for doubt, as testified by the timid acceptance of the GDR press (especially in the readers’ letters) and by the praise of Western press. In the Süddeutsche Zeitung Wilhelm Roth characterized Insel der Schwäne as a testament of the urban inhospitality of the new construction settlements, a film that called for a debate on these concrete dormitories, on the new narrative of the city and on the crisis of the role of GDR architects.44 The discomfort, the lack of sense of belonging, the inhospitality of the urban landscape is revealed through Stefan’s sarcastic reaction when he arrives in the new urban settlement: “Sieht aus wie ein Adventskalender”45 – he comments upon

Konflikte in der DDR: Audio-visuelle Intention und Presse-Rezeption des Spielfilms “Insel der Schwäne”. München: AVM, 2009, 28–51. 43 In the book the story is set in the Fischerinsel in Berlin. 44 “Noch nie ist die Unwirtlichkeit der neuentstandenen Vorstädte in einem DDR-Streifen so unbeschönigt gezeigt worden wie in Insel der Schwäne. […] Der Film könnte auch ein öffentliches Gespräch über die Beton-Schlafstädte fördern, die den DDR-Architekten längst problematisch geworden ist”. Roth, Wilhelm. “In den Wohnsilos von Marzahn” Süddeutsche Zeitung, 20/05/83, quoted from Vogt, Guntram. Die Stadt im Kino. Marburg: Schuren, 2001, 675. “The inhospitality of the new developed suburbs has never been shown so frankly in a GDR film as in Insel der Schwäne. […] The film could also arouse a public debate on the dormitories of concrete, that have long become problematic for GDR architects.” (trans. T.U.) 45 Zschoche, Hermann. Insel der Schwäne. GDR 1983. Version: DVD, Icestorm Entertainment GmbH, 2006, TC: 00:07:39-00:07:40. “It looks like an Advent calendar” (German tradition, trans. T.U.).

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the thousands of small lights shining from the high-rise buildings in the night. Even the exploration of his building, together with his new friend Hebert, leads us through long and labyrinthic corridors, gray, apparently endless staircases of concrete, and a claustrophobic and uncomfortable drying room, which will be at the same time their place of retreat and a place of abuse. In this ‘new city’ there is no street which deserves the name, on their way to school the children must walk on a field of gravel and mud, “wie in einer vernarbten Mondlandschaft”.46 The ‘Moon City’ was the name the residents of Hellersdorf, Marzahn’s twin hyper-settlement, used to call their Neubaugebiet.47 A symbolic name, which suggests the idea of a dreary landscape and reveals discontent with the infrastructures of the city. The status of retail opportunities, schools and kindergartens in Hellerdorf resembles that of Marzahn. Still in 1989, compared to Prenzlauer Berg, Marzahn and Hellerdorf were less endowed with stores and structures for children.48 Marzahn was, nevertheless, a city full of children. About 55,000 children and adolescents lived there. In the GDR of the 1970s, it was the district with the most children per capita. Indeed, the government had planned to house here mostly young families with children. For this purpose, the WBS70 (Wohnungsbauserie 1970) – the most advanced mass-production system for concrete slabs so far in the GDR – had been developed. All the apartments had the same layout and number of rooms. Even the interiors were standardized, as shown by a 1986 issue of the magazine Kultur im Heim, which was devoted almost entirely to Marzahn (see Figures 4).49 The regime recognized the relevance of social infrastructures and of playgrounds for children, but in the end all the money ended up in the construction of the housing developments. The courtyards, which hold potential for interaction and for shaping the sense of community, were mostly occupied by cranes and stood unfinished for years. It happened indeed that the dwellers tried themselves to complete these projects, yet the regime obstructed them. One of the first residents testifies:

46 Schapow, Birgit. “Christine F. und Stefan K. – Stadt und Jugend im geteilten Berlin” kunsttexte.de 1 (2014), 7, http://edoc.hu-berlin.de/kunsttexte/2014-1/schapow-birgit-7/PDF/schapow. pdf (27/09/16). Birgit Schapow offers a very interesting analysis of the relationship between the adolescents and this satellite settlement in the 1970s. “[…] like in a scarred moonscape” (trans. T. U.). 47 Cfr. Sibener Pensley, Danielle. “The Socialist City? A Critical Analysis of Neubaugebiet Hellersdorf” Journal of Urban History, 24: 5 (1998): 563–603, here 592. 48 Cfr. Table 2: A Comparison of Retail Opportunities. In: Sibener Pensley, The Socialist City?, 595. 49 Cfr. Kultur im Heim, 1986/2, 2–21.

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Figure 4: Furnishing masterplans in Marzahn. Kultur im Heim, 1986/2, 2–21.

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Figure 4: (continued)

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Those of us from my courtyard got together and drew up a plan on how we would finish our courtyard. For it was only scheduled for four years later that the sand and the remainders from the construction sites would be cleared away. And how could the children play in that environment? Yet, when we presented our idea, with the full enthusiasm of everyone behind it, we were told that the machines we needed were not available and could not be available until provided for by the plan.50

In the experience of these dwellers, the three aspects of Lefebvre’s trialectic converge: perceiving the urban space as a never-ending construction site (espace perçu), they take over and draw up a plan, to produce the space that the architects should have conceived (espace conçu). However, at the moment in which they engage in a process of empowerment over the normalized urbanization, they actually move into the realm of the espace vécu: They use the voids of the urban plans as “places of the possible”, to use Lefebvre’s expression,51 and attempt to appropriate the city as space of dwelling. By depicting the city through the eyes of an adolescent, Insel der Schwäne offers a real document of the life in Marzahn. First, because it might have been the children who experienced the most profound and life-altering event in moving to a hyper-settlement, which remained a big construction site for years. They had no real playground, and on their way to school they had to struggle in the wind tunnels formed among the identical twenty-two-story apartment blocks. Second, because the film gives voice to real attempts by the residents of Marzahn to shape their playgrounds and courtyards, to appropriate the space with their agency. The film (and the novel) thematizes the contrast between the children’s and the adults’ gaze on the city and articulates the children’s claim for a playground with meadows and tunnels. Moreover, it shows how children’s creativity can produce agency out of alienation, and be able to give new life to neglected or non-coded city spaces. Finally, it describes the inhospitality of the city through the adults’ insensitivity to the needs of the youth, in that – through an extensive list of rules and prohibitions – they attempt to control and prescribe the practices of the space and to stifle their imagination. Right after Stefan’s arrival, the janitor lists him all the rules of that small new society:

50 Simone Hain interviewed by Sibener Pensley, Berlin-Mitte, 06/06/92. Cfr. Sibener Pensley, “The Socialist City?”, 592. As architectural historian, Simone Hain was a member of the Building Academy of the GDR and has largely published on East Germany architecture and urbanism. 51 Lefebvre, Henri. “The Right to the City” In: Henri Lefebvre. Writings on Cities, Eleonore Kofman and Elizabeth Lebas (trans./eds.), 147–159. Cambridge (MA): Blackwell, 1996, 156.

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Wir malen nichts an die Fahrstuhlwände, wir malen nichts an Treppen- und Flurwänden, wir malen nichts an die Hauswände, wir malen überhaupt nichts, und wir kleben auch nichts an, wir bauen nichts ab, wir lassen keine fremden Kinder ins Haus, wir spucken nicht auf den Boden, wir melden alle Unregelmäßigkeiten bei mir, der Hausgemeinschaftsleitung.52

This adverse sense of order, along with the obsession for prohibitions, testifies the atrophy of an aseptic system and the paralysis of its social project. The conflict between the worlds of adults and of youth mirrors the contrast between the urbanists and the dwellers. Furthermore, it epitomizes the dullness of an authoritarian state and the blindness of its urban planners. This over-disciplined space conveys an espace conçu which is homogeneous (these prefab high-rises and their apartments looked all the same, as they were built according to the series WBS70) and functional, as celebrated by the slogan “Wohnen mit Komfort” (Comfortable Living). Yet, what is missing in this scenario is the dimension of dwelling, of privateness and individuality; to use Lefebvre’s words, the domain of ‘habiter’. Here, where the housing has replaced the living, the film exposes the space as object of controversy among actors. The bone of contention is the lack of a playground. In a hill of debris the children see their chance to claim the right to decide how this space should look. Surrounded by a landscape of pits, amidst puddles and construction debris, they take initiative and attempt to create a playground here. In this spatial void they recognize the space of the possible53: they appropriate the hill of dirt piles and recode it by building tunnels. Their initiative has the revolutionary power Lefebvre ascribes to the claim for the right to the city,54 a form of collective

52 Zschoche, IdS. TC: 00:30-50-00:31:08 “We don’t draw on the elevator wall panels, we don’t draw on the staircase walls and on the hall walls, we don’t draw on the house walls, we don’t draw at all, nor we stick anything, we don’t destroy anything, we don’t let other children in the house, we don’t spit on the floor, we report all irregularities to me, the head of the house community”. (trans. T.U.) 53 Lefebvre’s concept of espace vécu has a strong utopian substance: it opens spaces of possibility that create the condition of urban space. For Lefebvre “there always remains a surplus, a remainder, an inexpressible and unanalysable but most valuable residue that can be expressed only through artistic means”. Schmid, Christian. “Henri Lefebvre’s Theory of the Production of Space: Towards a Three-Dimensional Dialectic” In: Space, Difference, Everyday Life. Reading Henri Lefebvre, Kanishka Goonewardena, Stefan Kipfer, Richard Milgrom and Christian Schmid (eds.), 27–45. New York/London: Routledge, 2008, 40. 54 “Urban dwellers carry the urban with them, even if they do not bring planning with them!” Lefebvre, Right, 158. In the stormy 1968, Lefebvre put forth in Right to the City his ideas on the crisis of the city and on the right to a new urbanity. For Lefebvre, the right to the city revolutionarily shifts control away from the state and toward urban dwellers. It involves both the right to participation, that

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empowerment, the struggle of the dwellers to produce the city like an œuvre and create life in it.55 In the film this appropriation of the urban space, which Lefebvre locates in the domain of the espace vécu, occurs in the rupture, in a non-playground, a noncodified space, a space that escapes the totalitarian structure of the espace conçu. Lefebvre defines these spaces which are ‘left over’ as residue, a leakiness in the system which refuses to sit down and comply.56 Every totalizing system, explains Lefebvre, “leaves a residue, which escapes it, which resists it, and from where an effective (practical) resistance can take off”.57 Residual spaces belong to the realm of everyday life, which is itself “a very scanty residue”,58 “what is left over”,59 that nevertheless has the potential power of an anti-system impulse. That is why residual spaces are implacable and irreducible: they articulate the internal contradictions of the system and prevent, to use Lefebvre’s words, totalization in totality. As it deviates from the urban plans, the children’s empowerment in the film gets ousted and the adults try to discourage any initiative. Yet, as they do not want to give up the idea of a real playground, the children start a protest. Despite the prohibition, they hang leaflets at the entrance of the building (“Wir wollen keinen means to contribute to any decision about the urban space, and the right of appropriation, that means to physically access, occupy, and use the urban space. His idea of the right to the city has the impetus of a revolutionary gestus. For Lefebvre, “the right to the city is like a cry and a demand, [...] a transformed and renewed right to urban life”. Lefebvre, Right, 158. In Lefebvre’s conception, it is those who live the city who can claim the right to the city as the right to participate at the transformation of space. In doing so they claim an urban space beyond the hegemonic, normative discourse. Lefebvre’s idea of a ‘right to the city’ articulates the dwellers’ response to neoliberal urbanism, empowers them with the agency of re-appropriating the urban space, thus contributing directly to producing the social relations that are bound up in it. Yet, his concept of the right to the city can be applied to the same extent to all other urban dwellers claiming for their urban experience. As every society produces its space, in every society urban dwellers empower residual space and voids. 55 “Only groups, social classes and class fractions capable of revolutionary initiative can take over and realize to fruition solutions to urban problems. It is from these social and political forces that the renewed city will become the œuvre.” Lefebvre, Right, 154. 56 Lefebvre’s method of residues, which he elaborates in his book Metaphilosophy, is rooted in his Marxist critique to capitalism as a totalitarian system. Lefebvre knows that in any totalization such as global capitalism something always remains, a residue that defies analysis. Such leakiness, such ruptures, though, can be found in every system which attempts to be totalitarian. They are extremely productive and are able to both structure and de-structure the system which tries to absorb them, they destroy it from within. See Lefebvre, Henri. Metaphilosophy, David Fernbach (trans.). London/New York: Verso, 2016. 57 Lefebvre, Metaphilosophy, 299. 58 Lefebvre, Henri, Critique, 86. 59 Lefebvre, Henri, Critique, 97.

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Spielplatz aus Beton! Wir wollen einen Tunnel und kleine Wi(e)sen! Die Kinder”60), turning an anonymous hall, once again a residue, into a notice board, a reminder, a warning of the debacle of the social project in Marzahn (see Figure 5).

Figure 5: Insel der Schwäne. The children call: “Wir wollen keinen Beton!” (“We don’t want concrete!”). Zschoche, IdS. TC: 00:52:03. (©DEFA-Stiftung/Günter Jaeuthe.)

The adults are not happy about this act of resistance. When Stefan’s father catches him writing one of these letters it comes to a family fight. He argues for the propagandized comfort of the new apartments, once again blind to his son’s needs: [Ich hab] nichts [gegen kleine Wiesen]. […] Das hier ist ’ne Stadt - ’ne Großstadt! Da gelten andere Gesetze. Das muß er als Stadtmensch verstehen. [...] Ich bin Bauarbeiter, mein Vater war Zimmermann, mein Großvater Maurer. Wir haben überall gebaut. Kleine Wiesen haben nie viel Sinn gehabt.61

60 Zschoche, IdS. TC: 01:10:06. “We don’t want a playground made of concrete! We want a tunnel and small field! The children” (trans. T.U.) 61 Zschoche, IdS. “[I don’t have] anything [against small meadows]. […] This is a city – a big city! Here different rules apply. As city dweller, he must accept it. […] I am a construction worker, my father was a carpenter, my grandfather a builder. We have built everywhere. Small meadows have never made a lot of sense.” (trans. T.U.)

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Soon, the children’s expectations will be definitively disappointed, when they find their ‘playground’ fully covered in concrete. However, alienation can generate creativity. So, in the key scene of the film, the children decide to re-appropriate the playground. They leave finger-, foot- and bodyprints in the still fresh concrete. Hubert ‘plants’ a sprinkler as if it were an art installation; soon the most different objects are assembled to fancifully ‘furnish’ the playground (see Figure 6).

Figure 6: Insel der Schwäne. The children re-appropriate the playground. Zschoche, IdS. TC: 01:17:09. (©DEFA-Stiftung/Günter Jaeuthe.)

The film leaves the gap between the city as it is planned by urbanists and the dimension of everyday life provocatively open, yet, it shows the subversive potential of the latter. The attempts to appropriate residues as spaces for sociality and community mirror a real condition of the residents of Marzahn. If on the one hand they missed the dimension of community, on the other hand it was exactly this inadequacy, rather than a well-planned urban space, which fostered their sense of community. Lefebvre pled for the right to the city in that he encouraged the residents to appropriate the city spaces as spaces for meetings, games, festivity.62 In The Production of Space, he also stressed the utopian potential of the space experienced by people in their everyday life and the possibility of resistance against prescriptive living environments: in the moment of the espace vécu the dwellers

62 Lefebvre, Right, 73.

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can impart symbolic meanings to those neglected and vacant strips of land, to those residual, non-codified spaces of the city. The category of espace vécu claims the poietic, signifying function of the representational space: it has the deflagrating potential of a counter-narrative which articulates a new representation of the urban space. Opposed to the total reduction of everyday life through urban planning (espace conçu), the reign of everyday life is that productive dimension of creative diversions, in which urban spaces are used, recoded, are given new sense and are constantly re-produced.

3 Imagining a Redemption: Dancing the City “Herrgott, ich habe für diese Stadt gekämpft, damit es den Leuten mehr Spaß macht, dort zu wohnen…”63 – Brigitte Reimann writes from Neubrandenburg to her friend, the writer Christa Wolf, after having moved from Hoyerswerda.64 In the discomfort of this reaction there is all her disappointment about her experience in Hoyerswerda. In Neubrandenburg she starts working on a short film based on this city. Sonntag, den…Briefe aus einer Stadt.65 In this project, carried out with the director Bernd Scharioth, Reimann attempts to recreate in a fictional, imagined space, the 63 Reimann, Brigitte. “Letter to Christa Wolf, January 29, 1969” In: Sei gegrüßt und lebe. Eine Freundschaft in Briefen 1964–1972, Angela Drescher (ed.). Berlin: Aufbau-Verlag, 1999, 14. “My God, I have fought for this city, so that people can enjoy it more to live there...” (trans. T.U.) 64 The author explains her decision to leave Hoyerswerda and move to Neubrandenburg with these words: “Ich brauchte andere Luft. […] Die schlichtesten Umzugs-Gründe sind offenbar am schwersten verständlich: Freude an alten Toren, lebendigen Straßen, an Wäldern und Seen, an Gesprächen mit Leuten (ich meine jetzt vor allem: Kollegen), die Ansichten haben, ein Gesicht, Eigenarten, sogar Schrullen.” Reimann, Letter to Christa Wolf, 15. “I needed fresh air. The simplest reasons to move out are the most difficult to understand: the pleasure of old gates, lively streets, woods and lakes, of conversations with people (I mean especially with colleagues), who hold views, have faces, peculiarities, even quirks.” (trans. T.U.) 65 The manuscript has been published for the first time in 2003 thanks to the work of Margrid Bircken, president of the Brigitte-Reimann-Gesellschaft. Cfr. Reimann, Brigitte. “Sonntag, den...” In: Architektur und Literatur in der deutschsprachigen Literatur nach 1945. Beiträge zu einer wissenschaftlichen Konferenz in Neubrandenburg 2003, Margrid Bircken and Heide Hampel (eds.), 217–230. Neubrandenburg: Federlese, 2005. Of the project of a short film proves the correspondence with Christa Wolf, as well as the diaries of the author. The short film was broadcasted on 20th March 1970 on the channel DFF 2. Unfortunately, it was subsequently lost. Cfr. Bircken, Margrid and Heide Hampel (eds.), Architektur, 210 f. All the following quotations are drawn from the publication of 2003.

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bond to the city she had been missing in Hoyerswerda, and maybe even to erase the memory of this anonymous and inhospitable city. If, in Hoyerswerda Brigitte Reimann experienced the perversion of the idea of city in its lack of spaces for intimacy and communication, as well as in a prescriptive idea of living, in this short film she projects her idea of a city, in that she portrays an urban space in the comings and goings of the residents. In reestablishing the idea of city, conceived by the classical political thinkers as polis, that is a place of exchange, relations, and sociality, Brigitte Reimann articulates a counter-narrative of the monotony of the prefabricated blocks. In this projection of a city, in these instants of everyday life shot in a street of an imagined city, she discovers her own agency in the agency of the passers-by as an act of appropriating the city through a narration, of re-shaping it through her imagination. In an entry of her diary she writes about her project: Aus meiner ursprünglichen Idee (Bürgersteig als Kontaktzone: Geborgenheit, Tröstlichkeit, Schaulust etc.) ist etwas dieser Art geworden: eine Straße […] beobachten, vom frühen Morgen bis in die Nacht, also die Leute: zur Arbeit gehen, einkaufen, bummeln…66

Reimann introduces us into a street teeming with music, sounds, rhythm, noises. We experience the street waking up like a human being: “[die] Straße, die atmet, sich bewegt, die sich gleich für den kommenden Tag schmücken wird […] ihr Herz schlägt, sie belebt sich und teilt ihr Leben, ihren ‘Rhythmus’ den Leuten mit.”67 This imagined street communicates with its users, who feel secure in its embrace, and gives them confidence and safety. The street is “the nervous system [of the city]; it communicates the flavor, the feel, the sights. It is the major point of transaction and communication”68 – stated the urban writer and activist Jane Jacobs 66 Reimann, Brigitte. “Diary entry from 07/10/1969” In: Alles schmeckt nach Abschied. Tagebücher 1964–1970, Angela Drescher (ed.). Berlin: Aufbau-Verlag, 1998, 248. “My original idea (sidewalk as contact zone: security, reassurance, voyeuristic pleasure etc.) developed into something like this: looking at a street […], from early in the morning to the night, I mean the people: going to work, going shopping, strolling...” (trans. T.U.) 67 “the street that breathes, moves, adorns itself right for the next day […] its heart beats, it comes to life and shares with the people its life, its ‘rhythm’”. Reimann, Scene I/Sonntag, 219. 68 Jacobs, Jane. “Downtown is for people”, Fortune (April 1958), online version: http://fortune. com/2011/09/18/downtown-is-for-people-fortune-classic-1958/ (27/09/16). With her community-based approach to city building, Jane Jacobs shifted the focus on urbanism from the point of view of urban economy to the one of people, neighborhoods and visual orders. Her plea for streets instead of superblocks had impressed Brigitte Reimann. In 1965 she mentioned in her diary a conversation on architecture and Jane Jacobs (Reimann, Abschied, 124). She has also deeply read Jacobs’ text The Death and Life of Great American Cities (1961), as her book was amply underlined. See Kaufmann, Eva. “Architektur, Literatur und Utopie” In: Architektur und Literatur

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in 1958. Reimann’s gaze on the street shows interesting connections to Jacobs’ reflections on the relationship between dwellers and streets. Reimann particularly draws from Jacobs the plea for those intimate forms of sociability which revolve around the streets. If in the novel the critique to the prefab cities echoed Jacobs’s reproof of American streets and their anonymity, this film script resembles the same plea for the communicative function of the street, as well as for the poietic recoding of the passers-by. The author imagines the street as Heimat, where the anonymous crowd of ordinary practitioners feels at home, “geborgen in der Umarmung der Straße, die […] unsere Straße ist, mehr als nur eine Gerade zwischen zwei Punkten, mehr als die Summe ihrer Häuser und Läden”.69 Families, children, and couples produce the space of the street through their itinerary. Reimann’s fictional street is a representational space, espace vécu, yet in a dialectic relationship to the prescriptive city space depicted by socialist architects (espace conçu). Because of its fluidity – as Lefebvre reflects –, the representational space is situational and relational, and breaks every rule of consistency and cohesiveness. The passers-by, the users of the street, have an emotional, affective relationship to this space, as it “embraces the loci of passion, of action and of lived situation”.70 In her film script Brigitte Reimann articulates a real declaration of love to the city, as she establishes a double emotional relationship with this street. On the one hand, in that the users of her imagined street feel a sense of belonging, they call it “our street”. On the other hand, as she projects onto this street all her Sehnsucht for a city space to identify with, to feel at home in, and in this imaginative space articulates her urban revolution. In the film script we do not get any structured image of the street. Rather, panoramas and miniatures are drawn close and brought together through visual and aural images. The street teems with sounds and music: an alarm clock ringing, bells, a car motor, milk bottles. The camera focuses the actions of the passers-by, as they walk along, wait, dance, bath, stay, crowd, trip over, get out, paint, watch, … Imagined practices of everyday life that open the space of dreams, symbols, emotions. They recall dances that, with their whirls, produce a space where sociality can be re-codified and the dimension of urbanity re-written:

in der deutschsprachigen Literatur nach 1945. Beiträge zu einer wissenschaftlichen Konferenz in Neubrandenburg 2003, Margrid Bircken and Heide Hampel (eds.), 108–121. Neubrandenburg: Federchen Verlag, 2005, here 115 f. 69 Reimann, Scene II/Sonntag, 221, emphasis by the author. “sheltered in the embrace of the street, which […] is our street, more than just a straight between two points, more than the sum of its houses and stores.” (trans. T. U.) 70 Lefebvre, Production, 42.

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Was auf einem Bürgersteig geschieht, morgens, mittags, abends, gleich einem Tanz mit gemessen Schritten, verschlungenen Figuren, hitzigem Tempo, – den Tänzen seiner Landschaft, einem Flamenco etwas, oder einem Hopak, einem gemütvollen Ländler, einem Kolo oder gravitätischen Menuett.71

This multitude of dances evokes the many possibilities of appropriating the street, in which images, symbols and memories open sceneries of imagination and new projections of urbanity. That is the domain of the lived space, defined by Lefebvre with the category of espace vécu, representational space that imagination molds and modifies. In her imagination Brigitte Reimann makes – out of the practices of everyday life – creative forms of re-writing the street, moving tales, danced narratives that stage the street as the microcosm of its dwellers, œuvre – as Lefebvre would say –, work of art, that is a creative product of, and context for, the everyday life of its inhabitants, and thus real and hospitable space of dwelling.

References Filmography Warneke, Lothar: Unser kurzes Leben. GDR 1981. Version: DVD, absolut MEDIEN, 2015. (©DEFA-Stiftung/Claus Neumann). Zschoche, Hermann: Insel der Schwäne. GDR 1983. Version: DVD, Icestorm Entertainment GmbH, 2006. (©DEFA-Stiftung/Günter Jaeuthe).

Bibliography Bauer, Jenny. Geschlechterdiskurse um 1900. Literarische Identitätsentwürfe im Kontext deutsch-skandinavischer Raumproduktion. Bielefeld: Transcript, 2016. Bertens, Hans. Literary Theory. The Basics. London/New York: Taylor & Francis, 2008. de Graaf, Reinier. Four Walls and a Roof: The Complex Nature of a Simple Profession. Harvard: Harvard University Press, 2017. Jacobs, Jane. “Downtown is for people” Fortune (April 1958), online version: http://fortune. com/2011/09/18/downtown-is-for-people-fortune-classic-1958/(27/09/16).

71 Reimann, Scene II/Sonntag, 22. “What occurs on the sidewalk, in the mornings, in the afternoons, in the evenings, recalls a dance with measured steps, entwined figures, lively tempo, – the dances of its landscape, like a flamenco, or a hopak, a sentimental Alpin dance, a Kolo or a solemn minuet.” (trans. T.U.)

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Kannapin, Detlef and Hannah Lotte Lund. “‘Einen Film müsste man schreiben!’ Brigitte Reimann und die DEFA – Auskunft im Alltag der Filmpolitik” In: Apropos: Film 2003. Das 4. Jahrbuch der DEFA-Stiftung, Ralf Schenk and Erika Richter (eds.), 106–127. Berlin: Bertz + Fischer, 2003. Kaufmann, Eva. “Architektur, Literatur und Utopie” In: Architektur und Literatur in der deutschsprachigen Literatur nach 1945, Margrid Bircken and Heide Hampel (eds.), 108–121. Neubrandenburg: Federchen Verlag, 2005. Lefebvre, Henri. Metaphilosophy, David Fernbach (trans.). London/New York: Verso, 2016. Lefebvre, Henri. “Industrialization and Urbanization” In: Henri Lefebvre. Writings on Cities, Eleonore Kofman and Elizabeth Lebas (trans./eds.), 65–85. Cambridge (MA): Blackwell, 1996. Lefebvre, Henri. “The Right to the City” In: Henri Lefebvre. Writings on Cities, Eleonore Kofman and Elizabeth Lebas (trans./eds.), 147–159. Cambridge (MA): Blackwell, 1996. Lefebvre, Henri. Critique to Everyday Life. Vol. I, John Moore (trans.). London: Verso, 1991. Lefebvre, Henri. The Production of Space, Donald Nicholson-Smith (trans.). London: Blackwell Publ., 1991. Paul-Kohlhoff, Angela. “Hoyerswerda – eine besondere Stadt?” In: Eigensinnige Geographien: Städtische Raumaneignungen als Ausdruck gesellschaftlicher Teilhabe, Malte Bergmann and Bastian Lange (eds.), 127–146. Wiesbaden: VS-Verlag, 2011. Peters, Paulhans. Eine Zukunft für die Karl-Marx-Alle, Hamburg: Doeling und Garlitz, 1997. Reimann, Brigitte. Franziska Linkerhand. Berlin: Aufbau Taschenbuch, 2004 [7th ed.]. Reimann, Brigitte. “Sonntag, den...” In: Architektur und Literatur in der deutschsprachigen Literatur nach 1945. Beiträge zu einer wissenschaftlichen Konferenz in Neubrandenburg 2003, Margrid Bircken and Heide Hampel (eds.), 217–230. Neubrandenburg: Federlese, 2003. Reimann, Brigitte. “Diary entry from 11/06/63” In: Ich bedaure nichts: Tagebücher 1955–1963, Angela Drescher (ed.). Berlin: Aufbau, 2000, 238. Reimann, Brigitte. “Letter to Christa Wolf, 29/01/69” In: Sei gegrüßt und lebe. Eine Freundschaft in Briefen 1964–1972, Angela Drescher (ed.). Berlin: Aufbau-Verlag, 1999, 14. Reimann, Brigitte. “Diary entry from 07/10/69” In: Alles schmeckt nach Abschied. Tagebücher 1964–1970, Angela Drescher (ed.). Berlin: Aufbau-Verlag, 1998, 248. Reimann, Brigitte. “Letter to Henselmann, 06/06/1963” In: Briefwechsel: Brigitte Reimann – Hermann Henselmann, Ingrid Krischey Feix (ed.). Berlin: Neues Leben, 1994, 7. Reimann, Brigitte. “Bemerkungen zu einer neuen Stadt” Lausitzer Rundschau, 17/08/63. Roth, Wilhelm. “In den Wohnsilos von Marzahn” Süddeutsche Zeitung, 20/05/83. Rubin, Eli. Amnesiopolis. Modernity, Space, and Memory in East Germany. Oxford: OUP, 2016. Rutzen, Felix. Film als Spiegel gesellschaftlicher Konflikte in der DDR: Audio-visuelle Intention und Presse-Rezeption des Spielfilms “Insel der Schwäne”. München: AVM, 2009. Schapow, Birgit. “Christine F. und Stefan K. – Stadt und Jugend im geteilten Berlin” kunsttexte.de 1 (2014), 7, online version: http://edoc.hu-berlin.de/kunsttexte/2014-1/ schapow-birgit-7/PDF/schapow.pdf (27/09/16). Schmid, Christian. “Henri Lefebvre’s Theory of the Production of Space: Towards a ThreeDimensional Dialectic” In: Space, Difference, Everyday Life. Reading Henri Lefebvre, Kanishka Goonewardena, Stefan Kipfer, Richard Milgrom and Christian Schmid (eds.), 27–45. New York/London: Routledge, 2008. Sibener Pensley, Danielle. “The Socialist City? A Critical Analysis of Neubaugebiet Hellersdorf” Journal of Urban History 24: 5 (1998): 563–603.

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Springer, Philippe. “Vom Verschwinden der Zukunft. Stadthistorische Überlegungen zum Utopieverlust in der sozialistischen Stadt Schwedt” In: Deutsche Fragen. Von der Teilung zur Einheit, Heiner Timmermann (ed.), 451–464. Berlin: Duncker und Humblot, 2001. Sullivan, Erin. “Culture, Literature, and the History of Medicine” Medical History 55:4 (2011): 541–548, https://doi.org/10.1017/S0025727300004993 (27/09/16). Taverne, Ed. “Rise and Fall of the ‘Second Socialist City’. Hoyerswerda-Neustadt” In: Ideals in Concrete. Exploring Central and Eastern Europe, Cor Wagenaar and Mieke Dings (eds.), 117–121. Rotterdam: Nai Publishers, 2004. Turner, John F. C.: “Housing as a Verb” In: Freedom to Build: Dweller Control of the Housing Process, John F. C. Turner and Robert Fichter (eds.), 148–175. New York: Macmillan, 1972. Vogt, Guntram. Die Stadt im Kino. Marburg: Schüren, 2001. Wiedemann, Dieter (ed.): KINO 83: der Film ‘Insel der Schwäne’ und sein Publikum. Forschungsbericht. Leipzig: Zentralinstitut für Jugendforschung (ZIJ), 1983, URN: http:// nbn-resolving.de/urn:nbn:de:0168-ssoar-385508 (27/09/16).

Anne Brüske

Spatial Theory, Post/Colonial Perspectives, and Fiction Reading Hispano-Caribbean Diaspora Literature in the US with Henri Lefebvre

Introduction Alone on the fire escape, I looked out to the neighborhood below. Bodega war right, it was alive. Its music and people had taken off their mourning clothes. Their neighborhood had turned into a maraca, with the men and women transformed into seeds, shaking with love and desire for another. Children had opened fire hydrants, and danced, laughing and splashing water on themselves. […] Murals had been painted in memory of Bodega.1

This account of Spanish Harlem by Julio Mercado, the first person narrator of Ernesto Quiñónez’ novel Bodega Dreams (2000), is emblematic for the significance of space in contemporary Hispano-Caribbean diaspora literature in the US. These works of fiction, written and published in the US by a cohort of second generation writers such as Junot Díaz or Achy Obejas, not only focus on questions of migration, cultural contact, coloniality, and diasporic identities. They also engage prominently in the production of fictional spaces in which they negotiate their ethnic communities’ spatial position between deterritorialization and reterritorialization,2 contributing thusly to the fashioning of the non-fictional space of domestic and global readers. Henri Lefebvre’s phenomenological approach to space, as both a product and a production of the dialectic between

1 Quiñonez, Ernesto. Bodega Dreams. New York City: Vintage Books, 2000, 212 f. Quoted in the following as “BD.” 2 Deleuze and Guattari elaborate the concept of de- and reterritorialization based on the idea of de- and recontextualization in Mille Plateaux. See Deleuze, Gilles and Félix Guattari. Mille plateaux. Capitalisme et schizophrénie. Paris: Minuit, 1980. My use of the term refers to the alleged dissociation and re-association of material space and cultural products or practices as critically reflected by anthropological and globalization research. See e.g. García Canclini, Néstor. Culturas híbridas. Estrategias para entrar y salir de la modernidad. México, D.F.: Grijalbo, 1998, 228 ff.; Brenner, Neil. “Globalisation as Reterritorialisation: The Re-scaling of Urban Governance in the European Union” Urban Studies 36:3 (1999): 431–451; Elden, Stuart. “Missing the Point: Globalization, Deterritorialization and the Space of the World” Transactions of the Institute of British Geographers 30:1 (2005): 8–19. https://doi.org/10.1515/9783110494983-009

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spatial practices, concepts of space, and imaginations of space, is particularly helpful for analyzing the interplay between space in real life and the textually produced space of fiction. The objective of this article is thus twofold. On a theoretical level, drawing on concepts of coloniality, intersectionality, and diaspora I will discuss the applicability of Lefebvre’s reflections in La production de l’espace (1974) to the analysis of postcolonial and diasporic space produced in and by fiction. While doing so, I propose to complement his concept of space with decolonial and intersectional approaches. On an empirical level, I will concentrate on the literary analysis of the novel Bodega Dreams. The novel focuses on spatial politics and the production of a genuinely Puerto Rican space within New York City’s traditional immigrant neighborhood Spanish Harlem. This production of a fictional Puerto Rican space on the US mainland is intricately linked to the status of Puerto Rico as a “free associated state” (Estado Libre Asociado), the Caribbean island’s past as a Spanish colony, and to the low social status ascribed to Puerto Ricans within US society.3

1 The Caribbean and its Diasporas as a Post/ Colonial Space Undoubtedly, Columbus’ Carta a Luis Santángel (1493) should be considered rather as one of the first textual documents to exhibit the material, conceptual, and symbolic production of the Caribbean as a colonial and colonized space than as the first text to announce the “discovery” of the so-called New World. Columbus not only describes and renames the Caribbean islands from a eurocentric perspective, but, in an act of “worlding”,4 literally creates the Caribbean as a space of coloniality, and thus as the “underside of modernity”,5 which was to become

3 See Duany, Jorge. Blurred Borders. Transnational Migration between the Hispanic Caribbean and the United States. Chapel Hill: The University of North Carolina Press, 2011, 48–55. 4 Spivak, Gayatri Chakravorty. A Critique of Postcolonial Reason: Toward a History of the Vanishing Present. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1999. See Lanz, Stephan. “Über (Un-)Möglichkeiten, hiesige Stadtforschung zu postkolonialisieren” sub\urban. zeitschrift für kritische stadtforschung 3:1 (2015): 75–90, 78. 5 Dussel, Enrique. The Underside of Modernity: Apel, Ricoeur, Rorty, Taylor, and the Philosophy of Liberation. Atlantic Highlands, NJ: Humanities Press, 1996; Mignolo, Walter D. “Delinking. The Rhetoric of Modernity, the Logic of Coloniality and the Grammar of De-coloniality” Cultural Studies 21:2/3 (2007): 449–514; Quijano, Aníbal. “Coloniality and Modernity/Rationality” Cultural Studies 21:2/3 (2007): 168–178.

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a site of forced cultural contact, extreme human exploitation, and genocide.6 Material interventions, for instance deforestation, mining, and pollution, but also plantation architecture and colonial urbanism as sources of social inequality and ethnic segregation continue to characterize and co-produce Caribbean social space.7 Likewise, Hispano-Caribbean space, as both a product and a process of production, remains heavily marked by the colonial legacy as well as by neocolonial and neoliberal influences. Efforts to counter those forces politically, accomplished in part by the independence and civil rights movements in Cuba, Puerto Rico, and the Dominican Republic, have contributed to a partial reshaping of the production of space(s). In the case of Puerto Rico, which in the wake of the Spanish-American War (1898) became a de facto US colony, the struggle over national sovereignty in the production of space was lost. With the Jones Act (1917), which conferred US citizenship and free movement within US territory to all Puerto Ricans, a new chapter in Puerto Rican spatial history began resulting in large waves of labor migration to the mainland. Initially, the immigrants almost exclusively settled in New York City where Puerto Rican colonias soon began to evolve as centers of Puerto Rican life on the mainland.8 The colonias, as nodal points for the strong community ties, flourished especially in Manhattan’s Lower Eastside, due to the proximity of Hispanic owned tobacco factories,9 and in East Harlem, a territory until then dominated by Italian and Jewish immigrants.10 In the following decades, migrants new to the city found themselves confronted with the conditions and metamorphosis of (post-)industrial New York City and particularly with the experience of impoverished, racially segregated inner

6 For an interpretation of the “Carta a Santángel” and of the “Diario” as spatial documents, see Radović, Stanka. Locating the Destitute. Space and Identity in Caribbean Fiction. Charlottesville: University of Virginia Press, 2014, 28 f.; Graziadei, Daniel. Insel(n) im Archipel: Zur Verwendung einer Raumfigur in den zeitgenössischen anglo-, franko- und hispanophonen Literaturen der Karibik. Paderborn: Wilhelm Fink, 2017, 42–47. 7 See e.g. Bohle, Johannes. “Sustainable Urban Planning? Reflections on Bon Air and Trénelle-Citron” In: Reshaping Glocal Dynamics of the Caribbean. Relaciones y Desconexiones, Relations et Déconnexions, Relations and Disconnections, Anja Bandau, Anne Brüske and Natascha Ueckmann (eds.), 255 f. Heidelberg: heiUP, 2018. 8 See Sánchez Korrol, Virginia E. From Colonia to Community: the History of Puerto Ricans in New York City. Berkeley, London: University of California Press, 1994, 53–62. 9 See Sánchez Korrol, From Colonia to Community, 54. 10 See Sánchez Korrol, From Colonia to Community, 55; Aponte-Parés, Luis. “Lessons from El Barrio - the East Harlem Real Great Society/Urban Planning Studio: A Puerto Rican Chapter in the Fight for Urban Self-Determination” New Political Science 20:4 (1998): 399–420, 402.

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city ghettos.11 During the postwar period, housing in New York City underwent massive spatial restructuring, which implied “a decline in the needs of traditional industrial workers’ residential districts (East Harlem) and the reconfiguring of the traditional slum […] (Lower East Side)”.12 The outcome of this restructuring proved to be very different for the “two major ‘homelands’”13: In East Harlem it took the form of massive disinvestment by the abandonment of major housing tracts, with selective redevelopment through government-sponsored housing (public housing projects and middle-income enclaves). The Lower East Side […] remained more attractive for reinvestment due to its location between downtown and midtown. In geographical terms, East Harlem became part of the lumpengeography of capital, while the Lower East Side experienced gentrification articulated by a ‘frontier motif’, i.e. neighborhoods where ‘hostile landscapes are regenerated, cleansed, reinfused with middle-class sensibility’ and where the new ‘settlers,’ brave pioneers, go ‘where no (white) man has gone before.’14

The term “lumpengeography of capital” for East Harlem, or El Barrio, Spanish for “The Neighborhood”, appears to be particularly appropriate here, as it reflects from a post-Marxist perspective the entanglement of the capitalist economy with racial, ethnic, and social discrimination against Puerto Rican migrants in the production of space. In the tradition of the urban ghetto, El Barrio was deemed a lost peripheral space because of the perceived lower social class as well as the colonial and ethnic background of its inhabitants. Luis Aponte-Parés’ formulation of the (highly symbolic) “two major ‘homelands’ for Puerto Ricans in the US” points to the tension between Puerto Rican colonias and subsequent Puerto Rican communities torn between de- and reterritorialization, or in Avtar Brah’s terms, the tension between the “desire for a homeland” (Puerto Rico) and a “desire for homing” (in the US).15 On the level of political discourse, this tension is tangible in Puerto Rican organizations’ double focus on the liberation of the island and on the improvement of the living conditions of Puerto Ricans in the US. Formerly considered a “commuter nation” due to its circular forms of migration from the 11 For a definition of the ghetto as a “Janus-faced institution” as opposed to “ethnic neighborhood” and of the hyperghetto, see Wacquant, Loïc. “A Janus-Faced Institution of Ethnoracial Closure: A Sociological Specification of the Ghetto” In: The Ghetto. Contemporary Global Issues and Controversies, Ray Hutchison and Bruce D. Haynes (eds.), 1–31. Boulder, Colorado: Westview Press, 2012, 10, 21. 12 Aponte-Parés, Lessons from El Barrio, 403. 13 Aponte-Parés, Lessons from El Barrio, 403. 14 Aponte-Parés, Lessons from El Barrio, 403. 15 Brah, Avtar. Cartographies of Diaspora: Contesting Identities. London: Routledge, 1998, 16, 192 f.

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island to the mainland and back, Puerto Rican population has proven to be less mobile in recent years.16 Puerto Rican diaspora fiction, beginning with the Nuyorican poets movement, a literature of social and anticolonial protest, has always dedicated a crucial amount of reflection to (the production of) Puerto Rican space.

2 Reading Postcolonial Diaspora Space with Lefebvre Resistance, Recalcitrance, and Difference in Lefebvre’s Framework How may Lefebvre’s understanding of space contribute to a fruitful analysis of this diaspora fiction? Lefebvre’s writing is deeply infused by ideas of resistance, struggle for social emancipation, the right to the city, and the right to difference.17 For instance, in Critique de la vie quotidienne (1947, 1961, 1981), Lefebvre insists on the residual (and recalcitrant) moments in everyday life.18 Also, in La production de l’espace, Lefebvre underscores the power of resistance against the homogenizing power of the state that may emanate, for example via social or artistic action, from the third dimension of space, i.e. the lived space.19 Accordingly, one key term in Lefebvre’s oeuvre is that of difference as a motor of social evolution. However, Lefebvre does not understand the term of difference in the same sense as Postcolonial Studies have tended to use it, i.e. in the sense of a socially constructed or affirmative difference between social individuals, or in the sense of diversity. On the contrary, for Lefebvre, ‘difference’ as a category of dialectic transformation refers primarily to minimized difference in abstract spaces as typical of contemporary social orders and to maximal difference as

16 According to the US Census Bureau, today the island’s population is with 3.4 million inhabitants inferior to the US mainland’s Puerto Rican population with 4.6 million which in the meantime have spread to the whole country. 17 See Lefebvre, Henri. “Le droit à la ville” L’Homme et la société 6 (1967): 29–35; Kipfer, Stefan, Parastou Saberi and Thorben Wieditz. “Henri Lefebvre” In: Handbuch Stadtsoziologie, Frank Eckardt (ed.) 167–183. Wiesbaden: VS Verlag für Sozialwissenschaften, 2012, 171. 18 See Lefebvre, Henri. Critique de la vie quotidienne: Fondements d’une sociologie de la quotidienneté. Paris: L’Arche, 1968. 19 See Lefebvre, Henri. La production de l’espace. Paris: Anthropos, 2000, I, 15, 42 f.

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non-alienated forms of individuality and plurality in urban society.20 For him, “differential space”, as opposed to the “abstract space” of bureaucracy and power, constitutes a new historical paradigm of space.21 Differential space would correspond to a truly decolonized and pluralistic realm, where differences lose the significance they have in the grid of a capitalist colonial power matrix. Lefebvre’s conception of an abstract space proves helpful in the analysis of colonial(ized) spaces. Stefan Kipfer points to the complementarity of Lefebvre’s theory to Frantz Fanon’s reflections on colonial space and the impact of the colonial city on the (colonized) subjects in Les Damnés de la terre (1961): What Lefebvre calls abstract (both homogenizing and fragmenting) space produced by bureaucratically administered commodification, technocratic rationalism, linear (clock) time, and phallocentric visuality in ‘neocapitalist’ France […] is even more immediately shaped by state violence and a formally racialized commodity form in the colonies. In Fanon’s work, colonial space was a conceived product of colonial planners oriented to dominate, homogenize, and exclude. At the same time, colonial abstract spaces integrated the colonized into colonial abstract space through daily spatial practices and affective, bodily spatial experiences.22

Other approaches building on Lefebvre’s framework more particularly insist on the right to the city and the right to difference in postcolonial and diasporic contexts. Lefebvre conceptualizes those as general rights of participation in what he calls “l’urbain,” ‘the urban,’ as a utopian place of encounter yet to be realized by the city’s inhabitants.23 Eugene McCann’s article, for instance, “Race, protest, and public space: Contextualizing Lefebvre in the U.S. City” proposes a US-based approach to complement Lefebvre’s notion of space and adapt it to “the racialized geographies of US cities.”24 McCann’s piece parts from the opposition between the abstract, i.e. commodified and bureaucratized, space and the concrete space of everyday life in order to analyze the production of racialized space in Lexington, KY. Drawing attention to the importance of the intersection 20 See Kipfer, Saberi and Wieditz, Henri Lefebvre, here 171 f. 21 See Lefebvre, La production de l’espace, 60–65. 22 Kipfer, Stefan. “Fanon and Space: Colonization, Urbanization, and Liberation from the Colonial to the Global City” Environment and Planning D: Society and Space 25:4 (2007): 701– 726, 718. 23 Lefebvre, Le droit à la ville, 35. 24 McCann, Eugene J. “Race, Protest, and Public Space: Contextualizing Lefebvre in the U.S. City” Antipode 31:2 (1999): 163–184, 164. Another recent article by David Garbin and Gareth Milltington focusses on diasporic Congolese protests in the UK: Garbin, David and Gareth Millington. “‘Central London Under Siege’: Diaspora, ‘Race’ and the Right to the (Global) City” The Sociological Review 66:1 (2017): 138–154.

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between race, class, gender, and ethnicity, McCann interprets the marching of a crowd of black men into Lexington’s downtown area as a practice of spatialized protest. The downtown government district, an abstract space of primarily white power from which all differences and previous histories have been erased, is invaded and temporarily destabilized by a group of black citizens reclaiming their right to the city.

Decolonizing Lefebvre From a post- or decolonial vantage point, Lefebvre’s reductive use of the concept of colonization calls for reconsideration25: In his earlier writings of the 1960s,26 Lefebvre uses “colonization” as a metaphor for “how everyday life in metropolitan countries is dominated in postcolonial conditions.”27 Later, in his writings on the state in the 1970s, his thought focusses more on the role of hierarchical relations between central and peripheral social spaces of the state.28 Based on his observations of urban struggles of immigrant workers in France, slum dwellers in Latin America, and African Americans in the late 1960s.29 Lefebvre defines ‘colonization’ not only as a historical era of territorial expansion but more generally as the role of the political authority in reproducing relations of production and domination through the territorial organization of relationships of centre and periphery. This notion of ‘colonization’, which can operate at multiple scales (international, interregional, intraregional), […] allows us to connect forms of territorial control in formal (ex-) colonies and metropolitan centres.30

In order to productively operate with Lefebvre’s approach to space in post/ colonial contexts, I propose to complement Lefebvre with post- or decolonial thought, thus taking into account modernity’s flipside: coloniality, as the underlying social structure that conditions every production of space in (former) colonies as much as in the so-called ‘Western’ world. Therefore, I link Lefebvre’s 25 See Kipfer, Saberi and Wieditz, Henri Lefebvre, 174. 26 Kipfer, Stefan, Parastou Saberi and Thorben Wieditz. “Henri Lefebvre: Debates and Controversies” Progress in Human Geography 37:1 (2013): 115–134, 122. 27 Kipfer, Saberi and Wieditz, Henri Lefebvre: Debates and Controversies, 122. 28 See Kipfer, Stefan and Kanishka Goonewardena. “Urban Marxism and the Post-colonial Question: Henri Lefebvre and ‘Colonisation’” Historical Materialism 21:2 (2013): 76–116; Kipfer, Saberi and Wieditz, Henri Lefebvre: Debates and Controversies, 122; Kipfer, Fanon and Space, 720. 29 Kipfer, Saberi and Wieditz, Henri Lefebvre: Debates and Controversies, 122. 30 Kipfer, Fanon and Space, 720.

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notions of space and colonization with Aníbal Quijano’s reflection on the entanglement of work, sex/gender, and race for the constitution of the colonial/ modern system.31 According to Quijano, two axes characterize the colonial/modern system: that of control over social reproduction (“producción de recursos de sobrevivencia social”) and that of the biological reproduction of the human species (“reproducción biológica de la especie”). In both instances, the category of race plays an important role as a criterion of social organization and classification.32 From an intersectional studies’ point of view, however, Quijano’s heteronormative macro vantage point and his focus on work, gender/sex, class, and race calls for complementation.33 The intersectional approach of this study explicitly relocates the perspective to the subject whose positionality in the colonial/modern social system is co-defined by further equally interdependent categories of difference such as ethnicity, age, citizenship, etc. Although coloniality and intersectionality are intricately linked to each other and constitute the structural basis for the subject’s production of spaces in the colonial/modern system, Lefebvre does not reflect thoroughly on ethnic or gender or other differences and the effects of their intersections. His phenomenological approach to space and his subsequent emphasis on the body and lived experience, however, make it primordial to acknowledge the differences inscribed on and into the body and their social significance. This is also relevant for diaspora communities and their production of space, oftentimes tied to post/colonial conditions, as is the case especially for so-called “new” or “deterritorialized diasporas.”34 Contemporary definitions of diaspora imply the dispersion of a population to two or more sites, the longing for a homeland, and a diaspora conscience or discourse.35 Diasporic production of space

31 Coloniality of Power, Eurocentrism and Latin America. See Quijano, Aníbal. “Colonialidad y clasificación social” Journal of World-Systems Research vi:2, Special Issue: Festschrift for Immanuel Wallerstein – Part I (2000): 342–386, 368. 32 See Quijano, Colonialidad y clasificación social, 368, 374 f. 33 See e.g. Crenshaw, Kimberlé W. “Mapping the Margins: Intersectionality, Identity Politics, and Violence Against Women of Color” Stanford Law Review 43:6 (1991): 1241–1299. 34 See Cohen, Robin. Global Diasporas. An Introduction. London: Routledge, 2008 [1997], 123–140. 35 Frauke Gewecke refers primarily to James Clifford “who identifies ‘diasporas’ as ‘dispersed networks of peoples who share common historical experiences of dispossession, displacement [and] adaptation’, and who discusses ‘diaspora discourses’ as representing ‘experiences of displacement, of constructing homes away from home [...] while remaining rooted/routed in specific, discrepant histories’. Diasporic subjects stay connected socially and/or emotionally to their (remembered or imagined) home countries, though not necessarily sustaining a ‘teleology of

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considers at least two cultural frameworks, that of the ‘sending’ and that of the ‘receiving’ location. Consequently, we can define diaspora space, in opposition to Avtar Brah’s discursive concept, from a Lefebvrian point of view as spatial productions by diaspora subjects.36 Diaspora space(s) tend to be characterized by bi- or plurifocality on various national, cultural, and territorial spaces, a tension between de- and reterritorialization, a myth of return or a perceived special connection to an alleged homeland, and the (discursive and mental) presence of a physically absent homeland. Thus, the question of diaspora remains linked tightly to the production of space.

Fictionalizing the Production of Space In Lefebvre’s conception of space, literature – prose, theater, and poetry – and especially fictional space do not play a prominent role as an object of study, yet they are omnipresent in texts such as La production de l’espace or Critique de la vie quotdienne and serve as examples and allusions.37 In fact, literary texts, and especially novels, do contribute to the production of (everyday) space via the dimensions of espace conçu and espace vécu, représentation de l’espace and espaces de représentation as suggested by Lefebvre insofar as they themselves produce textual fictional space(s) which enter(s) into dialectical negotiation with their readers’ other perceptions, representations, and imaginations of space: Les espaces de représentation, c’est-à-dire l’espace vécu à travers les images et symboles qui l’accompagnent, donc espace des ‘habitants’, des ‘usagers’, mais aussi de certains artistes et peut-être de ceux qui décrivent et croient seulement décrire: les écrivains, les philosophes. C’est l’espace dominé, donc subi, que tente de modifier et d’approprier l’imagination. Il recouvre l’espace physique en utilisant symboliquement ses objets. De sorte que ces espaces de représentation tendraient (même réserves que précédemment) vers des systèmes plus ou moins cohérents de symboles et signes non verbaux.38

origin/return’[…].” See Gewecke, Frauke. “Diaspora” In: Online Dictionary Social and Political Key Terms of the Americas: Politics, Inequalities, and North-South Relations, Bielefeld: 2012, s.p. http://elearning.uni-bielefeld.de/wikifarm/fields/ges_cias/field.php/Main/Unterkapitel42 (25/06/18); see also Clifford, James. “Diasporas” Cultural Anthropology 9:3 (1994): 302–338. 36 See Brah, Cartographies of Diaspora, 16, 209. 37 See Bauer, Jenny. “Poesie und Poiesis. Literaturwissenschaftliche Perspektiven auf Henri Lefebvre” In: Mediale Räume, Stephan Günzel (ed.) 125–139. Berlin: Kadmos, 2018, 130–133. 38 Lefebvre, La production de l’espace, 49.  “Representational spaces: space as directly lived through its associated images and symbols, and hence the space of ‘inhabitants’ and ‘users’, but also of some artists and perhaps of those,

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In La présence et l’absence (1980) Lefebvre elaborates on the relationship between art in general, particularly literature, and representation. Art as ‘poietic action’ (“action poiétique”),39 has a liberatory and emancipatory potential, unlike philosophy and politics which either take representation for the truth or thrive to transform representations into reality.40 By contrast, poietic action critically selects representations of ‘nature, sexuality, power, life, and death,’ transposes them into paintings, colors, melody, wood, language, and text etc., and is capable of surpassing representation itself by reuniting “presence” and “absence.”41 Art, then, belongs to both spheres: to that of the conçu, i.e. artistic concepts and rules, and to the vécu, the ‘raw’ impressions of lived experience, and depicts by definition a society as a whole (and not just one aspect).42 This emancipatory and cathartic potential of art in general and fictional texts in particular, however, is far from being deployed in all forms of artistic discourses. On the contrary, as Edward Said argues in Orientalism (1978), post/ colonial representations frequently do contribute to the production of colonized and thus profoundly inegalitarian and repressive spaces, “imaginative geographies” infused by power relations.43 The literatures of the Caribbean, emerging from a post/colonial setting, do not necessarily create fictional spaces completely devoid of repressive elements but oftentimes reproduce (or reshape) power relations in their production of fictional space, as Caribbean plantation literature and glossy tourist brochures testify to. Fictional space – as opposed to and being a dimension of everyday-production of space – can be defined as the space that a piece of fiction generates as a whole, i.e. the poiesis of fictional space implies both the level of discourse and story.44 What is important here is how the implied readers receive this space.

such as a few writers and philosophers, who describe and aspire to do no more than describe. This is the dominated – and hence passively experienced – space which the imagination seeks to change and appropriate. It overlays physical space, making symbolic use of its objects. Thus representational spaces may be said, though again with certain exceptions, to tend towards more or less coherent systems of non-verbal symbols and signs.” Lefebvre, Henri. The Production of Space. Oxford: Blackwell, 1991, 39. 39 Lefebvre, Henri. La présence et l’absence: contribution à la théorie des représentations. Tournai: Casterman, 1980, 213. 40 Lefebvre, La présence et l’absence, 200. 41 Lefebvre, La présence et l’absence, 200. 42 Lefebvre, La présence et l’absence, 200, 199. 43 See Said, Edward W. Orientalism. London: Penguin Books, 2003, 5 f. 44 See Genette, Gérard. “Discours du récit” In: Figures, 67–278. Paris: Seuil, 1972, 183 ff. Gérard Genette’s narratological framework distinguishes between the story level (“histoire”) and a

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In line with the criticism of Wolfgang Iser’s reception theory that supposes a universal, i.e. male and white, reader, I argue here that especially Hispano Caribbean diaspora literature in the US can be expected to be designed to address diverse groups of implicit readers.45 Understood accordingly, fictional space arises from the textual negotiation of Lefebvre’s three dimensions within a piece of literary fiction and the readers’ reception of this space. Fictional literature’s mediality imposes its own ‘laws’ on the production of space – e.g. linearity instead of contiguity – and allows for other possibilities for the production of space. For instance, on both the level of discourse and story, the intra-fictional dimension of espace vécu, as lived, imagined or remembered space, and the corresponding notion of espace de représentation, created by references to other texts and works of art, play a highly visible role.46 Examples for pratiques spatiales or perceived spaces are everyday actions relating to space, such as traveling, cruising, migrating, conquering, but also practices designed to appropriate, alter, destroy or control space. The conceived space or représentations de l’espace correspond to urban planning, cartography, colonization plans, or politics of space as depicted in the texts. The dimension of lived space, espace de représentation, corresponds to the dimension of lived experience in and of space, its transformation by both the protagonists or the narrative instance’s imagination or memory, its use in religious cosmology, etc. as well as the phenomena of intertextuality. In the following analytical part, I critically adapt this concept of fictional space to Quiñónez’ novel in order to disclose its political reflection upon space.

discourse level (“discours”) in narrative fiction. While “histoire” refers to what is narrated in the e.g. the novel, “discours” relates to how the piece of fiction is narrated, i.e. by which type of narrator, etc. 45 See Matzat, Wolfgang. Perspektiven des Romans: Raum, Zeit, Gesellschaft: ein romanistischer Beitrag zur Gattungstheorie. Stuttgart, Weimar: Metzler, 2014, 51 f.; Richardson, Brian. “The Other Reader’s Response: On Multiple, Divided, and Oppositional Audiences” Criticism: A Quarterly for Literature and the Arts 39:1 (1997): 31–53, 46; Iser, Wolfgang. Das Fiktive und das Imaginäre. Perspektiven literarischer Anthropolgie. Frankfurt/Main: Suhrkamp, 20145 [1993]. 46 In La production de l’espace, Lefebvre insists on the lived experience of space its users make, but also points to the fact that espace vécu is experienced through symbols and to the role imagination plays in this process. See Lefebvre, La production de l’espace, 49. Following his lead, I understand espace vécu here as the immediate lived experience of space in fiction for instance a character experiences as well as lived experiences of space in the past and spatial imaginations both on the level of story and discourse, narrative instance and characters.

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3 Producing a Space Called Spanish Harlem Quiñónez’ Novel Bodega Dreams (2000) Ernesto Quiñónez’ novels, Bodega Dreams (2000) and Chango’s Fire (2004) negotiate the notion of ethnic and non-ethnic space and, more particularly, of a Puerto Rican space in Manhattan. The two novels bear references to Abraham Rodríguez’ Spidertown (1993) and Piri Thomas’ Down These Mean Streets (1967), both of which can be attributed to the tradition of ghetto literature and evoke the liminal space of the Nuyorican ghetto as a “Janus-faced institution of ethnic closure and control.”47 Distinguishing itself from former Nuyorican barriocentric literature, Bodega Dreams is part of the “Post-sixties-literature” which departs from their forbears’ anticolonial attitude by approximating mainstream positions.48 What intrigues me here is how Quiñónez’ novels produce Spanish Harlem, transformed by new waves of immigrants and menaced by gentrification,49 as a genuinely Puerto Rican space in downtown Manhattan which does not rely on the ‘mother island’ for affirmation of cultural authenticity anymore, but stands as a Puerto Rican realm itself. At the same time, the novels negotiate the subaltern, socially different position of Puerto Ricans as ethnically marked colonial subjects vis-à-vis a white Anglo mainstream within the social space of New York City. I contend that Lefebvre’s theoretical framework is applicable for the analysis of the novels on various levels. First, in combination with narratological approaches, it helps to elucidate how and which kind of fictional space is produced in and by

47 See Wacquant, Loïc. “The Ghetto” In: International Encyclopedia of the Social & Behavioral Sciences, Neil J. Smelser and Paul B. Baltes (eds.), 1–7. Amsterdam: Elsevier, 2004, 2; Wacquant, A Janus-Faced Institution of Ethnoracial Closure, 6 f. 48 See Dalleo, Raphal and Elena Machado Sáez. The Latino/a Canon and the Emergence of PostSixties Literature. New York, NY: Palgrave Macmillan, 2007, 46. 49 According to Julia Kristeva, I understand “intertextuality” here as a dialogue between texts which produces new texts. Those newly produced texts as a “mosaïque de citations” bear an ambivalence of meaning. An intertext then is a specific text which is in dialogue with another specific text. See Kristeva, Julia. “Bakhtine, le mot, le dialogue et le roman” Critique. Revue générale des publications francaises et étrangères XXIII:239 (1967): 438–465, 440 f. A paratext corresponds to a text that frames the main text, for instance, the book title, a preface or afterword, etc. See Genette, Gérard. Seuils. Paris: Seuil, 1987. See for the aspect of gentrification: Dávila, Arlene. “Dreams of Place: Housing, Gentrification, and the Marketing of Space in El Barrio” Centro Journal 15:1 (2003): 112–137; Dávila, Arlene. Barrio Dreams. Puerto Ricans, Latinos, and the Neoliberal City. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press, 2004.

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the novels. Second, Lefebvre’s reflections on the right to the city help to interpret the spatial practices depicted on the story-level. In Quiñónez’ literary debut Bodega Dreams the young US-born Puerto Rican Julio Mercado is caught up in a criminal intrigue. Drug lord Willie Bodega, a former social activist of the Young Lord Party, and his fugleman Edwin Nazario plan to buy up and renovate the whole neighborhood of Spanish Harlem with their drug money in order to prevent gentrification and to guarantee for better housing, better education, in short, a better life for the Puerto Rican community. Bodega and Nazario choose Julio, a student at Hunter College and fatherto-be, to be their respectable mascot. However, in reality, Bodega seeks Julio’s involvement and company in order to reestablish contact to Julio’s aunt-in-law, Bodega’s former sweetheart. The novel foregrounds the perspective (and thus the spatial production/perception) of the autodiegetic narrator and protagonist Julio. Julio recounts his inner conflict caused by the temptation of working for Bodega (and thus benefiting from better housing conditions), while at the same time keeping up hope for respectable, irreproachable living and social mobility. In addition to this narrative perspectivation, the novel and the fictional space it produces are framed by a number of para- and intertexts, such as the novel’s title, chapter titles, a note to the reader, and three epigraphs, which further condition the readers’ production of the novel’s fictional space. In the following analysis of the production of Spanish Harlem as a fictional space in Bodega Dreams, I shall first discuss the role of the novel’s para- and intertexts on a discursive level before delving into a more detailed study of the novel’s (internal) production of space.

Paratexts and Discourse Level: Directing the Readers’ Gaze, Evocating a Nuyorican Space Intertexts and paratexts not only direct the readers’ gaze and ‘mode of reception,’ especially in ethnic and so-called “postethnic literature,”50 but by doing so, they also condition the way readers engage in the production of fictional space in the novel. In the process of reading, the readers’ representation of an allegedly real Spanish Harlem and the fictional space of the novel fade into each other with the literary text ultimately supplanting or correcting the earlier vision. Already the novel’s disclaimer, although discretely hidden beneath editorial

50 Sedlmeier, Florian. The Postethnic Literary: Reading Paratexts and Transpositions Around 2000. Berlin/München: De Gruyter, 2014.

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information, points to this tension between reality and fiction, or between reality and an ideal, and thus draws the readers’ attention to the discrepancy between Spanish Harlem as a real space and the fictional Spanish Harlem as produced by the novel: This is a book of fiction. References to real people, locations, and organizations are used solely to lend the fiction a sense of authenticity and irony. All other characters and all actions, events, motivations, thoughts, and conversations portrayed in this story are entirely the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons or events is entirely coincidental. (BD, vii)

By citing the habitual phrase “[t]his is a book of fiction” and continuing with “reference to real people, locations, and organizations”, the disclaimer utilizes a post/modern trope of fiction and television. This trope, however, does not serve a merely ornamental purpose, for the novel actually plays with overtly referential and clearly fictional elements in the text, but reflects upon the relationship between fiction and reality. For instance, the character of the drug lord Willie Bodega claims to be a former member of the Young Lords, a New York-based civil rights organization and political party. Even more precisely, the novel cites “nearly the entire East Harlem aristocracy” (BD, 208) of the Puerto Rican community who are guests at Bodega’s funeral. These referential elements are claimed “to lend the fiction a sense of authenticity and irony.” (BD, vii) While the notion of authenticity reflects on the novel’s putative function as a mirror of reality and Spanish Harlem as a real space, it also refers critically to the audience’s expectation and a scholarly tradition of reading so-called ethnic novels as (auto)ethnographic texts.51 Accordingly, the notion of “irony,” understood as a figure of style pointing to the discrepancy between what is said (“this is the authentic space of Spanish Harlem”) and what is meant (“this is the author’s imagination and not an account of reality”), also refers to the fallacious readers’ expectations who mistake the novel as a portrayal of reality. Furthermore, the allusion to irony hints at the tension between what is depicted in fiction and what is reality, i.e. to the tension between “the story” as “a product of the author’s imagination” as an alternative to reality and reality. In terms of spatial analysis, this emphasizes the potential of friction arising from the production of a fictional(ized) Spanish Harlem as an alternative to real-life Spanish Harlem. In playfully underscoring its fictional character in the disclaimer and developing this feature by the means

51 The readers’ expectation, and subsequently their spatial production, is also influenced by para- und architexts in the mainstream press: see Kandiyoti, Dalia. Migrant Sites: America, Place, and Diaspora Literatures. Hanover: Dartmouth College Press, 2009, 178 f.

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of myriad intertextual allusions both in the main text and in other paratexts, Quiñónez’ novel differs from memoirs such as López’ Isabel’s Hand-Me-DownDreams (2011) whose disclaimer insists on the text’s factuality: “This memoir is wholly factual. Some names have been changed to protect the guilty.“52 Bodega Dreams does not introduce the author as a mere chronicler, or scribe, of a real story in historical spaces, but as the master of imaginary (though mostly realistic) spaces.53 The novel’s title and chapter titles contribute to the production of Spanish Harlem as a fictional, yet realistic space. As discussed in the critical literature on Quiñónez’ novel the word “bodega”, Spanish for a small grocery store, points to a typical institution in real-life Puerto Rican and other Hispano-Caribbean neighborhoods.54 Naming the most important secondary character of the novel “Bodega” then has also spatial implications: First, it situates the novel in an Hispanic setting, second it points not only to the importance of a Hispanic heritage but also to the question of the market. In effect, the character Willie Bodega as a drug lord stands in for the logic of the capitalist system. Consequently, the phrase “Bodega dreams” can be interpreted either as Willie Bodega’s own dreams, who wishes to ameliorate the neighborhood, the dreams Bodega inspires or simply as the dreams stemming from the logic of the bodega as both a place of encounter and a representative of capitalist exchange and the (American) dream tied to consumerism. In the same vein, on an intertextual level, “bodega” alludes to the poem “La bodega sold dreams” by mainland Puerto Rican poet Miguel Piñero whose opening lines serve as an epigraph to the novel’s third main chapter. Particularly the allusion to Piri Thomas’ Down These Mean Streets (“My Growing Up and All That Piri Thomas Kinda Crap”) refers overtly to another fictional(ized) but clearly referential space just like the three epigraphs preceding Books I, II, and III, that is the novel’s three main chapters (see BD, 85). The three epigraphs are excerpts from Nuyorican Poets Café’s cofounders Pedro Pietri’s “Puerto Rican Orbituary” (1969) and Miguel Piñero’s “La Bodega Sold Dreams” (1985). Their lyrical space is inspired by Puerto Rican life and space in New York City of the 1960’s and 1970’s; the tone of their poetry is critical of Puerto Rican

52 López, Isabel. Isabel’s Hand-Me-Down Dreams: A Memoir. CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform, 2011, iv. 53 In this aspect, it differs fundamentally from Ed Vega’s novel The Lamentable Journey of Omaha Bigelow into the Impenetrable Loisaida Jungle (2004) whose fictional space are explicitly imaginary and non-realistic. 54 See e.g. Benito, Jesús. “Space and Flows in the Puerto Rican Barrio: Latero Stories, Bodega Dreams” Revista de Estudios Norteamericanos 18:1 (2014): 13–33; Dalleo and Machado Sáez, The Latino/a Canon, 62 f.

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social reality in New York City, infused with an attitude of rejection. The first two epigraphs “All died hating the grocery stores/that sold them make-believe steak and bullet-proof rice and beans/all died waiting dreaming and hating” and “Those dreams/These empty dreams/from the make-believe bedrooms/their parents left them” are drawn from Pietri’s poem, in which the readers follow the miserable destiny of five Puerto Rican characters in New York City (BD, 2, 83). Both excerpts emphasize the shallowness and the unattainability of the American Dream and the pitfalls of US-American cultural industry.55 The “grocery stores” where deceptive products are sold (“make believe steak”, “bullet-proof rice and beans,” “make-believe bedrooms”) become the main symbol for these “empty dreams” of consumerism and a better future. They furthermore convey the desperation that the empty promise of a better life in the US, which the second epigraph develops as an intergenerational legacy of misery, instils in the poem’s characters. Those blinded by the materialism “at the expense of their Latino souls”56 keep on “waiting dreaming and hating” (BD, 2) until the end of their lives without being able to claim their “right to the city” and partake in the urban space of encounter and sharing as Lefebvre would formulate it. The lines drawn from Piñero’s poem “La Bodega Sold Dreams,” constituting the epigraph of Book III, approach the question of the (American) dream from yet another angle, that of the poet and art: “Dreamt I was this poeta/word glitterin’ brite and bold/in las bodegas/where our poets’ words & says/are sung” (BD, 202). Here, the bodega as a highly symbolic institution of Puerto Rican colonias and more generally Puerto Rican life in New York City – and not the Anglo-American grocery store – takes center stage as a place that “sold dreams.” In comparison to Pietri’s anticolonial and anti-capitalist critique, Piñero’s poem problematizes the position of the “poeta” as an artist who fights with words and who can take advantage of the market, the “bodega”, to disseminate dreams.57 However, the poeta and his work cannot succeed against the pressure of everyday life’s needs and the force of the market: the poeta’s words, now assimilated to consumer society as “glitterin’ brite and bold,” as well as his persona will end up forced into line by the realities of a capitalist society and the “factoria”.58 Hence, the epigraphs shape the readers’ reception of the fictional space deployed in the novel as a space of broken materialist dreams and lost “Latino souls”.59 55 See Dalleo and Machado Sáez, The Latino/a Canon, 18–20. 56 Dalleo and Machado Sáez, The Latino/a Canon, 19. 57 See Dalleo and Machado Sáez, The Latino/a Canon, 62. 58 Piñero, Miguel. La Bodega Sold Dreams. Houston, Texas: Arte Publico Press, 1985, 5 f. See for this interpretation: Dalleo and Machado Sáez, The Latino/a Canon, 60–63. 59 See Piñero, La Bodega Sold Dreams, 5 f.

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At the same time, the citing of Pietri and Piñero constitutes a self-referential gesture insofar as it ponders the position of the novel as a medium for the production of space that consists either of “words/strong & powerful” or of “words glitterin’ brite & bold,” i.e. that is torn between realizing an artistic and pedagogical imperative and obeying to the logic of the market.60

The Spaces of Everyday Life in Spanish Harlem: School, Street, Church Just as its paratexts, the novel’s corpus, both on the level of discourse and story, focusses on space and its production. Via the depiction of the spaces of everyday life, the text produces Spanish Harlem as the differential concrete space of an ethnically secluded ghetto61 (as opposed to abstract homogenizing space) in which informal structures of organization borne out of social movements and organized crime have supplanted the neglectful city administration. The references to the civil rights movements of the 1960s, especially the Young Lords’ Party as well as Bodega’s criminal and capitalist version of these movements, emphasize the aspect of gaining self-control over Spanish Harlem as a social space. In the autodiegetic narrator’s discourse, four spaces of everyday life stand out. The realms of the school, the street, church, and home are constitutional for the formation of young Puerto Rican subjects in New York City insofar as they shape them as persons and as those spaces are perceived, conceived, and lived, i.e. in part shaped, by their users. At the same time, as Julio’s narrative reveals, it is the US capitalist imperial social order, which deeply structures these public and private spaces with their varying degree of institutional intervention. These spaces thus become sites of contestation of and resistance to neoliberal capitalism and coloniality and against the ways social, ethnic, gender, linguistic, religious inequalities and their intersections constitute them. Both the first chapters of Book I and of Book II begin with Julio’s commitment to his childhood friend Sapo (BD, 85) and with a chapter on Julio’s, Sapo’s, and Blanca’s childhood as students of Junior High School 99, recently renamed Julia de Burgos High School, after the Puerto Rican poet.62 Throughout the novel, Julio’s 60 See Machado Sáez, Elena. Market Aesthetics. The Purchase of the Past in Caribbean Diasporic Fiction. Charlottesville: University of Virginia Press, 2015. 61 See McCann, Race, Protest, and Public Space, 169. 62 The poet, intellectual, and Puerto Rican independentista Julia de Burgos (1914–1953) has become one of the most visible and oftentimes contradictory icons of the Puerto Rican and the larger Latinx community in the US. Born and raised in Puerto Rico, Burgos migrated to New York

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discourse produces school as a site of conflictive cultural contact by foregrounding the tensions between the mainly Anglo-American teachers and their bilingual Puerto Rican pupils within Spanish Harlem, but also with the younger generation of Latinx teachers. In this sense, the novel depicts school as a space of inequality and of resistance. Julio’s discourse particularly insists on a scene in which the teenagers defy their English teacher. This upper middle-class man crudely reproduces stereotypes associated with the Puerto Rican population drawn from the Westside Story (see BD, 6), but foremost denies his students cultural self-representation by only acknowledging European and Anglo-American culture. At one point, the teenagers force their teacher to admit his own Eurocentric position, while Julio and his future wife Blanca expose his hypocritical attitude using irony and intellect, i.e. peaceful resistance. The scene, however, ends with Sapo’s recourse to violence. The escalation of the conflict shows how school as a space of peer and vertical socialization is dominated by traditional hierarchical conflicts between teachers and students, but also by conflicts along colonial, social, ethnic, linguistic, and gender lines.63 With Lefebvre, we may analyze these practices of ethnically motivated discrimination in the classroom, the school administration’s official discourse, as well as the disputes concerning the representational character of the institution’s name as part of the three dimensions of espace perçu, espace conçu, and espace vécu that constitute Julia de Burgos High School as a space of everyday life. In this light, the text produces school as a space in which educational methods and programs exert ideological, colonizing power upon the Puerto Rican population and where Hispanic and Anglo social practices, cultural discourses, lived experiences, and art works collide. Furthermore, the narrator’s retrospective analytic discourse exposes the contradictions between the official discourse on minority cultural heritage and its ineffective implementation as well as mechanisms of epistemic violence (the canonical New England poet Robert Frost vs. the marginalized Puerto Rican poetess Julia de Burgos, Italy vs. Latin in the 1940s and died there in poverty and anonymity in the 1950s. Since the re(dis)covery of her work and life beginning two decades after her early death, the “border icon” Julia de Burgos has served as a figure of identification for Puerto Rican communities both in Puerto Rico and the US and as a patron for multiple Puerto Rican and Latinx institutions in New York and especially in El Barrio. Her life and work continues influencing New York Puerto Rican literary culture as well as El Barrio’s visual culture. See Pérez Rosario, Vanessa. Becoming Julia de Burgos. The Making of a Puerto Rican Icon. Urbana, IL: University of Illinois Press, 2014; Pérez-Rosario, Vanessa. “The Afterlives of Julia de Burgos” Small Axe 21:3 (2017): 209–218, 211. 63 In the novel, the white, Anglo-Saxon, heterosexual, and middle-aged English teacher Mr. Blessington is said to look at Blanca, the Puerto-Rican, underprivileged, and Spanish-speaking brown female with the “eyes of a repressed rapist” which implies a potential relation of exploitation due to the intersectional organization of the structure of power. Quiñonez, Bodega Dreams, 86.

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America), while also foregrounding the potential of school as a site of legitimate cultural resistance (BD, VI, 88–89). The social space of the dirty and poor streets is perceived, conceived of and lived as a highly gendered, hypermasculine space in which “masculine domination” (Bourdieu) via male practices, speech and codes of conduct are at play. The street appears as a prolongation of school with its schoolyard fights over respect and honor especially among boys and men (“having a name” (BD, 4)) and, at the same time, as its counter-space where institutional intervention is kept to a minimum. The “petty street politics,” which Julio claims to have grown out of first, are described as a barter system of exchange of goods or services (BD, 12; 63): “It was simple street politics: you want something from me then you better have something I need” (BD, 47), or as a power relation implying a Darwinist struggle for the survival of the fittest. The spatial practices of the street, both on the discursive and on the story level, range from schoolyard fights, flying kites on project roofs, and hanging around on empty lots (BD, 6–8; 10), to activities more intricately linked to the “underground economy” (BD, 74) of the barrio and organized crime like cruising in expensive cars, hustling drugs, and squatting in abandoned buildings. They are reflected in a specific linguistic code of the Nuyorican streets, in the novel oftentimes transcribed as a colloquial, heavily accented English with Spanish interjections. Furthermore, intertextual and intermedial references to the intersecting subgenres of ghetto fiction and the genre noir contribute to shaping the readers’ production of the street as a space of organized crime in the novel. The fact that Bodega’s right hand Nazario takes Julio to a staged encounter with a fake Italian godfather in Queens gives a further ironic metafictional twist to the novel’s spatial production (BD, 155). While Julio does not realize until much later that Nazario has tricked him, the readers understand more rapidly that by quoting a standard mafia movie scenario, Nazario is playing with Julio’s spatial imagination,64 and thus the novel with the readers’. In contrast to the ‘mean streets’ from which women are excluded, the church represents a further everyday space in the novel. According to Julio’s critical discourse, it is a woman-gendered sphere, the female-coded correspondent to the hypermasculine space of the street. The space of the church and religions designed to shelter the community’s daughters from the menace of the outside even though internal hierarchies and patriarchal mechanisms of exclusion are equally constitutive of this social space and its production (BD, 63; 135 ff.). 64 For Julio, the whole spatio-temporal performance, presenting an elderly Italian man in a backroom of a private home in Queens who makes Nazario and Julio wait, while watering his peach tree, a symbol of Sicilia, and speaks to them dismissively, resonates with his idea of a once almighty and now declining Mafia godfather who reigns over Manhattan from a distance.

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The Pentecostal congregation Blanca adheres to is predominated by women in quantity, but it is men, such as reverend Miguel Vasquez and the prodigal child Roberto, who occupy key positions: Its divide is not racial nor necessarily ethnic but one between believers and non-believers, men and women.65

Changing Spanish Harlem as a Collective and Historical Space within NYC Fictional Discourses and Projects of Spanish Harlem as a Space Julio’s discourse contributes to a perception of Spanish Harlem as a crime-ridden dystopic space where coloniality shows its damaging consequences. However, it also insists on the self-rehabilitating, cathartic, Dionysian force of Spanish Harlem as a space that its inhabitants can actively transform, since he does not limit his account to the stereotype of the ghetto as a place of drug-related criminality, violence, and child neglect.66 On the contrary, he repeatedly points to the neighborhood’s vibrant vitality, thereby citing common places, such as Salsa dancing, domino playing, and opening fire hydrants for refreshment on hot summer days (BD, 73; 212).67 Julio’s first person narration also discloses the spatial discourses, visions, and practices of the characters of Willie Bodega and Edwin Nazario, as well as those of New York City’s institutions, nuancing retrospectively the insights of the character Julio as a necessarily biased participating observer. The characters’ spatial discourses – designed to make Bodega’s goals and the reason for Julio’s fascination for Bodega more transparent – constitute a further element that contributes to the readers’ production of the fictional Spanish Harlem. Bodega’s and Nazario’s spatial consciousness shows not only in their discourses on space, but also in their methods to win over Julio: They invite him to different landmarks and spaces of Spanish Harlem, such as La Marqueta, Taino Towers, the Museo del Barrio, the Salsa Museum, and the restaurant Ponce de

65 Blanca loses her privileges for being married to the non-Pentecostal Julio: see Quiñonez, Bodega Dreams, 17. For Julio’s criticism of the masculine domination, see Quiñonez, Bodega Dreams, 135–143, especially 142. 66 “Fires, junkies dying, shootouts, holdups, babies falling out of windows were things you took as parts of life.” (BD, 5) 67 The novel is citing here the well-known photographic representations of El Barrio from the 1960s, as for example by Hiram Maristany, later on official photographer of the Young Lords and interim director of the Museo del Barrio. See Maristany, Hiram. “Looking at East Harlem” Small Axe 19:3 (2015): 163–174.

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León (BD, 22; 69; 77; 104; 185).68 While on the story level, the trips to El Barrio’s landmarks are designed to convince Julio of their cause, on the level of the production of fictional space these citations of historicized space serve also to anchor the protagonists’ fictional discourses in reality and to lend Spanish Harlem and its Puerto Rican culture historical depth. Bodega’s and Nazario’s vision of Spanish Harlem – both as representations of space and a space of representation – is a project of spatial recuperation and reconstruction that is defined primarily by a social goal, that of “building a professional class. One born and bred in Spanish Harlem.” (BD, 106) Bodega is not only dreaming of transforming Spanish Harlem into an upwards mobile Puerto Rican space within New York City, but actually planning its realization. In order to implement this plan, he adopts a strategy of urban planning, of spatial practices of legally “acquiring as many abandoned buildings as [he] can get [his] hands on” and “[r]enovating them und putting in people [he] know[s]” (BD, 36). Both Bodega and Nazario “think big” (BD, 106) in their attempt to imagine (espace de représentation), to conceive of (representation de l’espace) and to build (pratique spatiale) Spanish Harlem as a lived space that is embraced (and not suffered as an “espace dominé,” dominated space)69 by its socially mobile inhabitants. It is Bodega’s and Nazario’s change of mentality, who “were so ahead in their visions and dreams that they left you behind, with your mouth open, trying to piece it all together” (BD, 106) that induces also the change of attitude in Julio who as a character struggles to follow their reasoning while fully embracing it as the narrator of the novel. Bodega and Nazario fill in the role of urban planners with a vision for their marginalized neighborhood, a role in which the City of New York has failed, as both Julio and Bodega contend (see BD, 36; 171). Bodega as the self-declared “second-biggest slumlord after the City of New York” (BD, 36 f.) and as an urban planner inscribes himself in the tradition of the Nuyorican Young Lords Party which fought for social justice in El Barrio in the late 1960’s and early 1970’s (see BD, 26; 29–34). Even though Julio perceives Bodega as “a lost relic from a time when all things seemed possible”, his discourse of “[ethnic] pride and anger and identity” and of creating a “Great Society” of New York Puerto Rican instils optimism in Julio as a character (BD, 31). He hopes that regardless of it being funded by drug money Bodega’s urban project might still succeed based on communal self-help: “Extreme measures would have to be taken and all you could hope for 68 Concerning the cultural importance for instance of the Marqueta, the Museo del Barrio and other landmarks see Sánchez Korrol, From Colonia to Community, 56 f.; Dávila, Arlene. “Latinizing Culture: Art, Museums, and the Politics of U.S. Multicultural Encompassment” Cultural Anthropology 14:2 (1999): 180–202; Dávila, Dreams of Place. 69 Lefebvre, La production de l’espace, 49.

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was that the good would outweigh the bad.” (BD, 31) Whereas Bodega’s discourse has clearly romantic undertones, his fugleman Nazario as a leader in the “fight for political, social, and economic power” (BD, 103–107, here 106) defends an even more Marxist and utilitarian standpoint when declaring that “[c]rime is a matter of access. The only reason the mugger robs you is because he doesn’t have access to the books. If he did he’d be a lawyer.” (BD, 103) According to Nazario (as reported by the first person narrator) the objective of Bodega’s vision must thus be “upward mobility” of the neighborhood by “education” and personal “sacrifice” (BD, 106). Nazario’s discourse then is one of demarcation (mainly) from the Anglo and of opposition against gentrification. He insists on the necessity of salvaging El Barrio from the danger of gentrification: “This neighborhood will be lost unless we make it ours. Look at Loisaida, that’s gone.” (BD, 106) Bodega’s and Nazario’s spatial discourses and practices constitute themselves against the backdrop of the City of New York’s administration, urban politics, and practices of space. In Julio’s discourse, official action is depicted as neglectful and destructive, deliberately ignoring the needs of the inhabitants of Spanish Harlem and thus favoring gentrification: “The City did nothing as if the problem would go away all by itself. In no time the buildings eroded. Later, the city wrecking ball knocked them to the ground.” (BD, 171) At the time, those politics of neglect and subsequent selling of the wasteland to investors inspires Bodega, who is eager to benefit from the fact that in Manhattan “[l]ocation is everything” and that “a big chunk of the most expensive real estate in all the nine planets” is at his reach: “[d]on’t mara [matter] of what I’m after is the toilet seat. Wha’ maras is where the toilet seat is located.” (BD, 37) In this sense, Bodega with his grassroots politics of communal rehabilitation for Spanish Harlem seems to step in where the authorities just as in other ethnically marked “bastard ghetto[s]” like “East L.A., South Bronx, South Central, South Chicago, or Overtown in Miami” (BD, 26) fail. Spanish Harlem, part of Manhattan’s “lumpengeography”70 or, in Bodega’s words, its “toilet seat” is neatly separated from other ethnic but rehabilitated New York City neighborhoods like Loisaida, Queens, East Central Park, and even Harlem by the invisible line of Anglo politics and authority of space.

Spanish Harlem as a “differential urban space” From a Lefebvrian point of view, we may interpret the novel’s fictional Spanish Harlem as a differential urban space from which its inhabitants initially suffer

70 Aponte-Parés, Lessons from El Barrio, 403.

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then revolt against their peripheral (social and spatial) position as colonial and ethnically marked subjects and re-claim their right to the city, i.e. to partake in the American Dream. In contrast, New York City Hall and Gracie Mansion, the mayor’s residence, appear as abstract, allegedly non-ethnic spaces of power, superficially stripped off all social and ethnic differences, but ultimately reiterating them.71 In order to legitimize Bodega’s spatial politics and practices as an act of resistance, Julio as the narrator and Bodega himself inscribe Bodega’s project into the lineage of the historical New York Young Lords Party, active in the late 1960s and early 1970s inspired by the Chicago Young Lords and the Black Panthers.72 The narrator Julio admiringly introduces the Young Lords Party as an “urban guerrilla group that had its origins in Chicago, but they made all their noise in El Barrio” and refers, historically correct, to their progressive, anticolonial, antiimperialist, and pan-Latin-American manifesto “Thirteen Point Program and Platform” (BD, 79).73 Bodega is presented as a former member of this movement; the novel thus anchors this character explicitly in Spanish Harlem’s history. In this sense, by having the character of Bodega explain to Julio the Young Lords Party’s actions from the point of view of a participant, the novel also engages its readers in its fictional historicity. The strategies of the Young Lords Party as depicted in the novel in three steps can be read with Lefebvre as an attempt by the domestic colonial periphery to claim their right to the city and to transform it into a place of sharing and encounter. Adding here the perspective of Quijano’s reflections on coloniality/modernity, we can contend that the ethnically marked and economically disadvantaged population rebels against colonial schemes of social classification and spatial production. According to Bodega, the Young Lords’ first step includes community work and self-empowerment: “‘We cleaned the streets. Everybody, Chino, went home and got a broom […] and soon the community was for us. Soon they were cleaning the streets with us.’” (BD, 32) The second consists of a non-violent march into the abstract and clinically clean space of Gracie Mansion where the “hoods in suits” who came “to talk with Mayor Lindsay about 71 See McCann, Race, Protest, and Public Space, 169–173. 72 The New York Young Lords were a Nuyorican youth group which successfully grew into a political party, the Young Lords Party and eventually split. They followed an agenda of social and ethnic justice as well as an anticolonial policy, demanding the decolonization of Puerto Rico. See Negrón-Muntaner, Frances. “The Look of Sovereignty: Style and Politics in the Young Lords” 27:1 (2015): 4–33; Meléndez, Miguel. We Took the Streets: Fighting for Latino Rights with the Young Lords. New Brunswick/New Jersey/London: Rutgers University Press, 2005. 73 With the reference to the Young Lords as an “urban guerrilla group” (BD, 79), the text inscribes itself into Latin-American and especially Brazilian discourses on urban protest foregrounding accordingly also the Latin-American political identity of Puerto Rican interest groups and communities in the US.

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jobs, education, housing, training programs” are stopped at the gates. As Bodega states, Lindsay “couldn’t understand that East Harlem, only a mile from where he lived, had the capacity to see itself in the mirror and say ‘We need a change. Let’s go and see the man.’” (BD, 32) This march to Gracie Mansion, seen as an action of civilian protest from the periphery and an act of self-empowerment, corresponds to a practice of spatial resistance, i.e. the (peaceful but failed) penetration by socially and ethnically marked colonial subjects of the highly symbolic abstract space that represents Anglo-American political power.74 Unfortunately, the mayor and his officials do not meet this act of peaceful rebellion with reciprocity and respect. On the contrary, it lacks an (adequate) answer. Consequently, the abstract space of power remains untouched by the claims and the offer of dialogue made by the urban periphery. This lack of respect and support of communal work leads to the third step of the Young Lords’ movement, a step of radical and in part violent self-empowerment: “the East Harlem garbage riots of sixty-nine” (BD, 33), the escalation of the situation when the mayor sends his “fucken city officials“ to intervene in Spanish Harlem, and the occupation of a church at “111th Street and Lex“ (BD, 33) into which the Young Lords smuggle arms. The narrator’s discourse presents this evolution as an inevitable consequence of the city administration’s disrespect: “Finally, when we knew our demands weren’t going to be met […] we had no choice but to take over the streets of East Harlem.” (BD, 33) The situation then evolves from a peaceful attempt to improve the neighborhood for its inhabitants into a movement of radical spatial appropriation of the differential periphery by its inhabitants, pressing New York administration to react to Spanish Harlem’s rightful claims. Those spatial practices of resistance are transported on a conceptual level by the inhabitants’ fictional complaint and by the historical “Thirteen Point Program and Platform” and the Young Lords’ newspaper Pa’lante.75 Those conceptual papers as well as Bodega’s renewed conception of Spanish Harlem as an urban space fill the gap provoked by the absence of a consistent spatial concept and urban planning for the city. Thanks to their legal and illegal action, the Young Lords as advocates of civil disobedience and, later on, Bodega’s engagement in organized crime as a drug lord, transform El Barrio from a suffered space into a space of opportunities, of visions. In the case of Bodega, the power of the market replaces or complements political idealism while challenging even less than the 74 See McCann, Race, Protest, and Public Space. T   he march as a format of spatial resistance was used especially during the civil right movement in the 1960s and 1970s with for example the March on Washington for Jobs and Freedom in 1963. 75 “Que Pasa Power was what was happenin’. Pa’lante was our horse, a newspaper we pushed our ideas with.” (BD, 33).

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Young Lords masculine domination and heteronormativity. Despite the Young Lords’ and Bodega’s attempts, the structure of colonial, social, ethnic and masculine hegemony remains effective for the production of an ethnically and socially segregated space within New York City due to the enforcement of Anglo hegemony and to the lack of a reliable Puerto Rican community. On the level of the fictional space, the fictionalized references to Spanish Harlem’s history and account of historic events mediated through Bodega’s and the narrator Julio’s discourse ultimately directs the readers’ gaze and influences their spatial productions of Spanish Harlem as a (fictional) space of conflictive cultural and colonial contact, of official neglect, and of communal stronghold. By inscribing Bodega’s spatial vision into the history of the Young Lords Party and by depicting the City of New York’s urban politics as criminal, Bodega’s dream of legally uplifting the neighborhood with illegal means becomes ethically justifiable. Julio as a narrator defends this utilitarian position (see BD, 31).

Conclusion As my close reading of Bodega Dreams has shown, Lefebvre’s spatial model helps to disentangle the complex production of fictional space the novel engages in both on the discursive and the story level. On the one hand, the novel’s para- and intertexts as well as the first person narrator’s comments – expressed from the intersectional position of a visible minority, Puerto Rican, lower middle class, male, and young adult perspective – serve to direct the readers’ gaze (and his subsequent production of space) and enter into dialogue with their preconception of Spanish Harlem and of so-called ethnic literature. On the other hand, on the story level, the reference to symbolic and historical spaces as well as the figuration of spaces of everyday life, such as the school or the street, and spatial practices of protest as equally important, foreground the colonial marginalized status of a Puerto Rican space in the US and of its subjects. These references and figurations allow the readers to slip for a moment into the narrator Julio’s production of a genuinely Puerto Rican space on the US mainland to produce their own fictional space of Spanish Harlem, and ultimately to integrate this alternative espace de représentation of fiction into their real-world production of space. The novel Bodega Dreams, finally, proposes a new perspective on the typical bi-focal production of diaspora space, since it emphasizes the aspect of reterritorialization while insisting on the notion of a binary colonial and cultural conflict. Whereas the white, un-marked, Anglo-American world is mostly characterized as an abstract and homogenizing space of political power and institutions, the

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space of Spanish Harlem evolves as a concrete historical space of everyday life, underscoring the differential history of Puerto Ricans in the US. The semantization of space follows rather a binary than a hybrid model of space even though the novel celebrates mainland Puerto Ricans as “a new race” (BD, 212).76 Just like the Puerto Rican population, whose majority has settled on the North American continent, it foregrounds the “homing desire” (Brah) of the Puerto Ricans on the US mainland, i.e. reterritorialization, and less the desire for the enchanted island Puerto Rico as a homeland. In this aspect, if differs from other Hispano Caribbean diaspora fiction which often insists much more on the pain of deterritorialization as both cultural and territorial disconnection. In this sense, the hope of “free[ing] our island without bloodshed” (BD, 107), expressed by Nazario, refers much more to Manhattan than to the Caribbean.77 The trope of the island, however, is discursively conserved.78 In this light, the novel constitutes a plea for the right of Puerto Ricans as an ethnically marked colonial minority to the city. Moreover, by its spatial productions, the novel attests to the permanent intrusion into and establishment of the colonial periphery within Anglo space.

References Aponte-Parés, Luis. “Lessons from El Barrio - the East Harlem Real Great Society/Urban Planning Studio: A Puerto Rican Chapter in the Fight for Urban Self-Determination” New Political Science 20:4 (1998): 399–420. Bauer, Jenny. “Poesie und Poiesis. Literaturwissenschaftliche Perspektiven auf Henri Lefebvre” In: Mediale Räume, Stephan Günzel (ed.) 125–139. Berlin: Kadmos, 2018 [forthcoming]. Benito, Jesús. “Space and Flows in the Puerto Rican Barrio: Latero Stories, Bodega Dreams” Revista de Estudios Norteamericanos 18:1 (2014): 13–33. Bohle, Johannes. “Sustainable Urban Planning? Reflections on Bon Air and Trénelle-Citron” In: Reshaping Glocal Dynamics of the Caribbean. Relaciones y Desconexiones, Relations et

76 According to Wolfgang Matzat, the patterns of spatial semantization tend to follow Lotman’s binary model in colonial literature while being more likely to correspond to Bakhtin’s hybrid model in postcolonial fiction or foregrounding less a conflict of diverging social orders that the conflict of a particular individual with society. See Matzat, Perspektiven des Romans, 118 f. 77 See Gewecke, Frauke. “De transnación a counternation. Políticas del espacio en la narrativa de los Nuyoricans/ AmeRícans/ DiaspoRicans/ NeoRicans” In: Dialogues transculturels dans la nouvelle Romania / Diálogos transculturales en la nueva Romania, Anne Brüske and HerleChristin Jessen (eds.), 165–181. Tübingen: Narr, 2013, 179. 78 See Goldman, Dara E. Out of Bounds: Islands and the Demarcation of Identity in the Hispanic Caribbean. Lewisburg, PA: Bucknell UP, 2008.

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Déconnexions, Relations and Disconnections, Anja Bandau, Anne Brüske and Natascha Ueckmann (eds.), 255–264. Brah, Avtar. Cartographies of Diaspora: Contesting Identities. London: Routledge, 1998. Brenner, Neil. “Globalisation as Reterritorialisation: The Re-scaling of Urban Governance in the European Union” Urban Studies 36:3 (1999): 431–451. Clifford, James. “Diasporas” Cultural Anthropology 9:3 (1994): 302–338. Cohen, Robin. Global Diasporas. An Introduction. London: Routledge, 2008 [1997]. Crenshaw, Kimberlé W. “Mapping the Margins: Intersectionality, Identity Politics, and Violence Against Women of Color” Stanford Law Review 43:6 (1991): 1241–1299. Dalleo, Raphael and Elena Machado Sáez. The Latino/a Canon and the Emergence of Post-Sixties Literature. New York, NY: Palgrave Macmillan, 2007. Dávila, Arlene. Barrio Dreams. Puerto Ricans, Latinos, and the Neoliberal City. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press, 2004. Dávila, Arlene. “Dreams of Place: Housing, Gentrification, and the Marketing of Space in El Barrio” Centro Journal 15:1 (2003): 112–137. Dávila, Arlene. “Latinizing Culture: Art, Museums, and the Politics of U.S. Multicultural Encompassment” Cultural Anthropology 14:2 (1999): 180–202. Deleuze, Gilles and Félix Guattari. Mille plateaux. Capitalisme et schizophrénie. Paris: Minuit, 1980. Duany, Jorge. Blurred Borders. Transnational Migration between the Hispanic Caribbean and the United States. Chapel Hill: The University of North Carolina Press, 2011. Dussel, Enrique. The Underside of Modernity: Apel, Ricoeur, Rorty, Taylor, and the Philosophy of Liberation. Atlantic Highlands, NJ: Humanities Press, 1996. Elden, Stuart. “Missing the Point: Globalization, Deterritorialization and the Space of the World” Transactions of the Institute of British Geographers 30:1 (2005): 8–19. Garbin, David and Gareth Millington. “‘Central London Under Siege’: Diaspora, ‘Race’ and the Right to the (Global) City” The Sociological Review 66:1 (2017): 138–154. García Canclini, Néstor. Culturas híbridas. Estrategias para entrar y salir de la modernidad. México, D.F.: Grijalbo, 1998. Genette, Gérard. “Discours du récit” In: Figures, 67–278. Paris: Seuil, 1972. Genette, Gérard. Seuils. Paris: Seuil, 1987. Gewecke, Frauke. “De transnación a counternation. Políticas del espacio en la narrativa de los Nuyoricans/AmeRícans/DiaspoRicans/NeoRicans” In: Dialogues transculturels dans la nouvelle Romania/Diálogos transculturales en la nueva Romania, Anne Brüske and HerleChristin Jessen (eds.), 165–181. Tübingen: Narr, 2013. Gewecke, Frauke. “Diaspora” In: Online Dictionary Social and Political Key Terms of the Americas: Politics, Inequalities, and North-South Relations, Bielefeld: 2012. http:// elearning.uni-bielefeld.de/wikifarm/fields/ges_cias/field.php/Main/Unterkapitel42 (25/06/18). Goldman, Dara E. Out of Bounds: Islands and the Demarcation of Identity in the Hispanic Caribbean. Lewisburg, PA: Bucknell UP, 2008. Graziadei, Daniel. Insel(n) im Archipel: Zur Verwendung einer Raumfigur in den zeitgenössischen anglo-, franko- und hispanophonen Literaturen der Karibik. Paderborn: Wilhelm Fink, 2017. Iser, Wolfgang. Das Fiktive und das Imaginäre. Perspektiven literarischer Anthropolgie. Frankfurt/Main: Suhrkamp, 20145 [1993].

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Kandiyoti, Dalia. Migrant Sites: America, Place, and Diaspora Literatures. Hanover: Dartmouth College Press, 2009. Kipfer, Stefan. “Fanon and Space: Colonization, Urbanization, and Liberation from the Colonial to the Global City” Environment and Planning D: Society and Space 25:4 (2007): 701–726. Kipfer, Stefan and Kanishka Gooenwardena. “Urban Marxism and the Post-colonial Question: Henri Lefebvre and ‘Colonisation’” Historical Materialism 21:2 (2013): 76–116. Kipfer, Stefan, Parastou Saberi and Thorben Wieditz. “Henri Lefebvre” In: Handbuch Stadtsoziologie, Frank Eckardt (ed.) 167–183. Wiesbaden: VS Verlag für Sozialwissenschaften, 2012. Kipfer, Stefan, Parastou Saberi and Thorben Wieditz. “Henri Lefebvre: Debates and Controversies” Progress in Human Geography 37:1 (2013): 115–134. Kristeva, Julia. “Bakhtine, le mot, le dialogue et le roman” Critique. Revue générale des publications francaises et étrangères XXIII:239 (1967): 438–465. Lanz, Stephan. “Über (Un-)Möglichkeiten, hiesige Stadtforschung zu postkolonialisieren” sub\ urban. zeitschrift für kritische stadtforschung 3:1 (2015): 75–90. Lefebvre, Henri. Critique de la vie quotidienne: Fondements d’une sociologie de la quotidienneté. Paris: L’Arche, 1968. Lefebvre, Henri. La présence et l’absence: contribution à la théorie des représentations. Tournai: Casterman, 1980. Lefebvre, Henri. La production de l’espace. Paris: Anthropos, 2000. Lefebvre, Henri. “Le droit à la ville” L’Homme et la société 6 (1967): 29–35. Lefebvre, Henri. The Production of Space. Oxford: Blackwell, 1991. López, Isabel. Isabel’s Hand-Me-Down Dreams: A Memoir. CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform, 2011. Machado Sáez, Elena. Market Aesthetics. The Purchase of the Past in Caribbean Diasporic Fiction. Charlottesville: University of Virginia Press, 2015. Maristany, Hiram. “Looking at East Harlem” Small Axe 19:3 (2015): 163–174. Matzat, Wolfgang. Perspektiven des Romans: Raum, Zeit, Gesellschaft: ein romanistischer Beitrag zur Gattungstheorie. Stuttgart, Weimar: Metzler, 2014. McCann, Eugene J. “Race, Protest, and Public Space: Contextualizing Lefebvre in the U.S. City” Antipode 31:2 (1999): 163–184. Meléndez, Miguel. We Took the Streets: Fighting for Latino Rights with the Young Lords. New Brunswick/New Jersey/London: Rutgers University Press, 2005. Mignolo, Walter D. “Delinking. The Rhetoric of Modernity, the Logic of Coloniality and the Grammar of De-coloniality” Cultural Studies 21:2/3 (2007): 449–514. Negrón-Muntaner, Frances. “The Look of Sovereignty: Style and Politics in the Young Lords” 27:1 (2015): 4–33. Pérez-Rosario, Vanessa. “The Afterlives of Julia de Burgos” Small Axe 21:3 (2017): 209–218. Pérez Rosario, Vanessa. Becoming Julia de Burgos. The Making of a Puerto Rican Icon. Urbana, IL: University of Illinois Press, 2014. Piñero, Miguel. La Bodega Sold Dreams. Houston, Texas: Arte Publico Press, 1985. Quijano, Aníbal. “Colonialidad y clasificación social” Journal of World-Systems Research vi:2, Special Issue: Festschrift for Immanuel Wallerstein – Part I (2000): 342–386. Quijano, Aníbal. “Coloniality and Modernity/Rationality” Cultural Studies 21:2/3 (2007): 168–178. Quiñonez, Ernesto. Bodega Dreams. New York City: Vintage Books, 2000.

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Radović, Stanka. Locating the Destitute. Space and Identity in Caribbean Fiction. Charlottesville: University of Virginia Press, 2014. Richardson, Brian. “The Other Reader’s Response: On Multiple, Divided, and Oppositional Audiences” Criticism: A Quarterly for Literature and the Arts 39:1 (1997): 31–53. Said, Edward W. Orientalism. London: Penguin Books, 2003. Sánchez Korrol, Virginia E. From Colonia to Community: the History of Puerto Ricans in New York City. Berkeley, London: University of California Press, 1994. Sedlmeier, Florian. The Postethnic Literary: Reading Paratexts and Transpositions Around 2000. Berlin/München: De Gruyter, 2014. Spivak, Gayatri Chakravorty. A Critique of Postcolonial Reason: Toward a History of the Vanishing Present. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1999. Wacquant, Loïc. “The Ghetto” In: International Encyclopedia of the Social & Behavioral Sciences, Neil J. Smelser and Paul B. Baltes (eds.), 1–7. Amsterdam: Elsevier, 2004. Wacquant, Loïc. “A Janus-Faced Institution of Ethnoracial Closure: A Sociological Specification of the Ghetto” In: The Ghetto. Contemporary Global Issues and Controversies, Ray Hutchison and Bruce D. Haynes (eds.), 1–31. Boulder, Colorado: Westview Press, 2012.

Jenny Bauer

Thirdings, Representations, Reflections How to Grasp the Spatial Triad

Introduction One of the ambitions of this volume and the previous workshops has been to navigate through Lefebvre’s verbal and intellectual odysseys by presenting close readings of his works. Another one has been to develop answers for the question of how different disciplines can provide their own perspectives on Lefebvre. Therefore, in this essay I will discuss those parts of The Production of Space that are concerned with the relationship of material and immaterial space. As Lefebvre seeks to overcome the division between material and immaterial, between subject and object, he discusses this relationship extensively. For the literary scholar, the relation between material and immaterial space is interesting because literature participates significantly in the production of immaterial (or fictional) spaces. Henri Lefebvre’s theory of the production of space is, as is well-known, built on different trinities. These are “related, but incapable of being satisfactorily mapped on to each other”.1 The trinity with the elements of spatial practice, representations of space and representational spaces2 is the most famous triad, and by now, there are many interpretations of it. If it comes to the question of how a literary scholar can work with the theory of the production of space, there are different answers.3 One possibility would be to map out the individual elements of the spatial triad in a given fictional text. Another would be to combine them with the analysis of what Pierre Bourdieu identifies as the literary field. Inquiring into the imaginary spaces literary texts evoke, and the impact they might have on the process of the production of space is a third approach. This article, however, will be more of a theoretical discussion of the question what role imaginary spaces have in Lefebvre’s conceptual triads. It can be taken as given that, for analysing the social production of space, the three elements of the spatial triad have to be regarded simultaneously. In 1 Davidson, Ian. Ideas of Space in Contemporary Poetry. New York: Palgrave, 2007, 34 f. 2 See Lefebvre, Henri. The Production of Space, Donald Nicholson-Smith (trans.). Oxford: Blackwell Publishing, 2010 [29th print]. 3 For a further discussion, see e.g. Bauer, Jenny. “Poesie und Poesis. Literaturwissenschaftliche Perspektiven auf Henri Lefebvre” In: Mediale Räume, Stephan Günzel (ed.), 125–139. Berlin: Kadmos, 2018 [forthcoming], 133–135. https://doi.org/10.1515/9783110494983-010

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academic debates as well as in The Production of Space itself, they are discussed in different lengths nonetheless. Whereas the definitions of the spatial practice as races in everyday routines and the representations of space as the abstract “space of scientists, urbanists […] and social engineers” (PS, 38) do not trigger much discussion, it does not seem nearly as easy to define how representational spaces are conceptualized. But within the spatial triad, it is the representational spaces in which imaginary spaces can most likely be located. Therefore, in what follows I will discuss different (and sometimes contradictory) aspects of the characteristics of representational spaces given in The Production of Space, focusing especially on the thoughts Lefebvre has about ‘mirage effects’ in this context.

1 Representational Spaces In the first chapter of The Production of Space (“Plan of the Present Work”), Lefebvre gives a short definition of his spatial triad. In this context, representational spaces are described as “embodying complex symbolisms, […] linked to the clandestine or underground side of social life, as also to art” (PS, 33). They are “[r]edolent with imaginary and symbolic elements” (PS, 41), and this dimension of space “overlays physical space, making symbolic use of its objects” (PS, 39). These characteristics might lead to the assumption that representational spaces are imagined, not material. On the other hand, they are described as “directly lived” (PS, 39). It seems that especially the simultaneity of dichotomies such as ‘lived’ versus ‘symbolized’ or ‘dominated’ versus ‘clandestine’ spaces lead to interpretations such as Edward Soja’s Thirdspace: Everything comes together in Thirdspace: subjectivity and objectivity, the abstract and the concrete, the real and the imagined, the knowable and the unimaginable, […] consciousness and the unconscious […].4

Soja’s conception of Thirdspace has been taken as an example for a reductionist and therefore misleading reception of Lefebvre’s theory. As Christian Schmid elaborates: Es scheint, als ob Soja von drei unabhängigen ‘Räumen’ […] ausgeht, die sich in diesem dritten Raum gewissermaßen subversiv aufheben. […] Das Resultat der gesamten hier

4 Soja, Edward. Thirdspace. Journeys to Los Angeles and Other Real-and-Imagined-Places. Cambridge/Massachusetts: Blackwell Publishers, 1996, 70.

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durchgeführten Rekonstruktion der Theorie der Produktion des Raumes lässt den nun auch nur den Schluss zu, dass es gemäß Lefebvres Theorie keinen ‘dritten Raum’ geben kann, genauso wenig wie einen ersten oder zweiten.5

Nevertheless, given the ambivalent characterization of representational spaces, one can comprehend how it became tempting for Soja to define the “third space” as a synthesis of opposites. As related to the vécu, representational spaces are part of the “dominated – and hence passively experienced – space” (PS, 39). As Lefebvre is deeply critic of the theoretical ignorance vis-à-vis social practice he blames structuralist thinkers for having adopted (see e.g. PS, 41), his aim is not to privilege a realm of imagined (or fictional) spaces, but to define their impact on the historical development of representations of space. It can be stated that in general, representational spaces are defined in relation to representations of space throughout the book. The latter are overall discussed in much more detail, as Lefebvre ascribes to them as having “a substantial role and a specific influence in the production of space” (PS, 42). Representations of space are related to the conçu and therefore characterized as abstract. So the assumption is obvious that the imaginary can be associated with this element of the triad. With regard to literary texts, this is true for those levels in which they participate in the production of contemporary knowledge about space.6 But for Lefebvre, the term ‘imaginary’ also seems be related to the creative and unregulated activity of poiesis7 and is thus assigned to representational spaces. As Lefebvre points out, the ‘symbolic elements’ that characterize representational spaces derive partly from fictional texts and from other arts, but their main source is everyday culture (see PS, 41; 230). In contrast to the material (particularly architectural) products of the representations of space, “the only products of representational spaces are symbolic works” (PS, 42). Using the example of

5 Schmid, Christian. Stadt, Raum und Gesellschaft. Henri Lefebvre und die Theorie der Produktion des Raumes. München: Franz Steiner Verlag, 2005, 309 f. “ It seems as if Soja acts on the assumption that there are three independent ‘spaces’ which, in a manner of speaking. neutralize themselves in this third space subversively. […] The result of the entire reconstruction of the theory of the production of space only allows the conclusion that there cannot possibly be a ‘third space’ according to Lefebvre’s theory, just as little as a first or second space.” (trans. J.B.) 6 See Engelke, Jan. Kulturpoetken des Raumes. Die Verschränkung von Raum-, Text- und Kulturtheorie. Würzburg: Königshausen und Neumann, 2009, 54. 7 In La présence et l’absence, Lefebvre defines “spontaneity, vitality, lost and regained immediacy” as starting point for creative activity. See Lefebvre, Henri. La présence et l’absence. Contribution à la théorie des représentations. Tournai: Castermann, 1980, 200.

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Ancient Rome, Lefebvre argues that, in contrast to the representations of space of a past epoch, representational spaces persist through time. The ideal order (“the Firmament, the celestial spheres, the Mediterranean as centre of the inhabited Earth”) of antiquity had collapsed, whereas its symbols (“the realm of the dead, chthonian and telluric forces, the depths and the heights”), one might also speak of cultural memory, had endured (PS, 231). These elements of representational spaces inspired artistic production through today. According to Lefebvre, art leads “out of what is present, […] out of representations of space, into what is further off, into nature, into symbols, into representational spaces” (PS, 231 f.). As ‘art of living’8 it is therefore crucial for the appropriation of space.

2 Bodies in Space [T]he mirror is an object in space which informs us about space, which speaks of space. (PS, 186)

As already mentioned, the mirror plays an important role in Lefebvre’s discussion of material and imaginary space. In the following, I will explicate how he comes to this conclusion. Chapter 3 of The Production of Space (“Spatial Architectonics”) starts with a discussion about the role of the body. The importance of the corporeal in Lefebvre’s theory has often been pointed out,9 but not much is said of the premises under which Lefebvre conceptualizes the body. The rejection of the container space went down as the central idea of the spatial turn and made The Production of Space one of its fundamental sources. In the concept of absolute space, the body merely plays a passive role: “To criticize and reject absolute space is simply to refuse a particular representation, that of a container waiting to be filled by a content – i.e. matter, or bodies.” (PS, 170) As Lefebvre sees it, the separation between container and content discloses a “strategy of separation” (PS, 170). Therefore, he sees the “dissociation of spatial and temporal” as a “corollary of which has been the split between representations of space and representational spaces” (PS, 175). Seeking to answer how space is produced instead of filled, Lefebvre conceptualizes the body as a starting point. The relationship between body and space is reciprocal: “[…] the living body […] produces its own space; conversely, the laws

8 See Bauer, Poesie und Poiesis, 128 f. 9 See i.e. Shields, Rob. Lefebvre, Love & Struggle. Spatial Dialectics. New York: Routledge, 1999, 123 f.

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of space […] also govern the living body […]”10 (PS, 170). This means that “energy, under specific conditions […], is deployed” (PS, 172). Lefebvre cites the mathematician Hermann Weyl’s11 text Symmetry (1952) to clarify what this means. According to Weyl, “bilateral symmetry, the symmetry of left and right”, defines “the structure of the higher animals, especially the human body”.12 Weyl describes bilateral symmetry as “strictly geometric and […] [as] an absolutely precise concept”.13 Reflection plays an important role in this definition. Weyl’s mathematical formula is cited word by word by Lefebvre: “‘[…] Reflection is that mapping of space upon itself […] that carries the arbitrary point p into this its mirror image p’ […].” (PS, 182) And taking the thought on reflection further, Lefebvre points out: The interest and importance of the mirror derives not, therefore, from the fact that it projects the ‘subject’s’ (or Ego’s) image back to the subject (or Ego), but rather from the fact that it extends a repetition (symmetry) immanent to the body in space. The Same (Ego) and the Other thus confront each other, as alike as it is possible to imagine, all but identical, yet differing absolutely, for the image has no density, no weight. Right and left are there in the mirror, reversed, and the Ego perceives its double. (PS, 182)

In further parts of the chapter, Lefebvre continues to discuss the relationship between the material body and its immaterial reflection to explore “the depths 10 The “living body” would be translated in German as “Leib”, not as “Körper”. It refers to Maurice Merleau-Ponty’s phenomenology. See Günzel, Stephan and Christoph Windgätter. “Leib / Raum. Das Unbewusste bei Merleau-Ponty” In: Das Unbewusste. Bd. II: Das Unbewusste in aktuellen Diskursen, Michael B. Buchholz and Günter Gödde (eds.), 585–616. Gießen: Psychosozial, 2005. 11 Hermann Weyl was a mathematician who conducted outstanding research in various fields of his subject. According to Skúli Sigurdsson, “philosophical reflection played a crucial role in scientific practice for Weyl and many of his contemporaries” (19, see reference below). He published one of the first textbooks on the General Theory of Relativity: Raum, Zeit, Materie (1918). After having taught at ETH Zürich, Weyl became the successor to his teacher David Hilbert in Göttingen. In 1933, Weyl and his Jewish wife went into exile and he became a member at the Institute for Advanced Study in Princeton. See Skúli Sigurdsson. “Journeys in spacetime” In: Herman Weyl’s Raum – Zeit – Materie and a General Introduction to His Scientific Work, Erhard Scholz (ed.), 15–47. Basel/Boston/Berlin: Springer Basel, 2001. For biographical information see The Editors of Encyclopedia Britannica: “Hermann Weyl” In: http://www.britannica.com/biography.Hermann-Weyl (19/06/18). 12 Weyl, Herrmann: Symmetry. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1980, 4. The book Symmetry is the outcome of a series of lectures addressed to a broad academic public. It became a popular scientific bestseller. The concept of symmetry not only had a huge impact on physics, but also on various other fields of study including the humanities. See Darvas, György. Symmetry. Cultural-Historical and Ontological Aspects of Science-Arts Relations, David Robert Evans (trans.). Basel/Boston/Berlin: Birkhäuser Verlag, 2007, vii f. 13 Weyl, Symmetry, 4.

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of the relationship between repetition and difference” (PS, 182). In this context, space is described with “its double determinants: imaginary/real” (PS, 187). He consults the mirror, landscape and the stage as mediums of reflection. In the following, I will discuss their meaning for Lefebvre’s concept of representational spaces. From the perspective of literary studies, it is striking that Lefebvre, shifting from mathematics to cultural theory, places a topos that has been discussed widely and from various angles within the field14 in the center of his spatial theory. The “concept of a form” or “the concept […] of symmetry with its constitutive dualisms” implies “a body with contours […]” (PS, 181). To define these contours means describing the finiteness of space. For a definition of (in)finite space, Lefebvre refers to Nietzsche: “Die Unendlichkeit ist die uranfängliche Tatsache; es wäre nur zu erklären, woher das Endliche stamme.”15 (PS, 181) This quotation originates from Das Philosophenbuch,16 a collection of fragments and notes. Today, this version is not part of the Nietzsche-Werkausgabe, as it seems doubtful whether Nietzsche ever intended to write a book of the same title.17 However, as Le livre du philosophe (1969),18 it was read widely in 1970s France, and there the edition is still available. Paraphrasing Nietzsche, Lefebvre continues his discussion about the infinite and the finite:

14 The mirror plays a role as a motif for both self-awareness and disruption, the latter especially in Gothic fiction. It is also crucial for aesthetic discourses of different literary eras such as the Renaissance and Romanticism. In this context, the mirror can be seen both as “Allegorie auf die Kunst sowie als mediale Selbstreflexion” (“an allegory of art and as medial self-reflection”, trans. J.B.). See Weixler, Antonius. Poetik des Transvisuellen. Carl Einsteins “écriture visionnaire” und die ästhetische Moderne. Berlin: de Gruyter, 2016, 210. 15 “‘Infinity is the original fact; what has to be explained is the source of the finite’, writes Nietzsche.” (PS, 181) 16 Nietzsche, Friedrich. “Vorarbeiten zu einer Schrift über den Philosophen (1872/73, 1875)” In: Gesammelte Werke. Bd. VI: Philosophenbuch. Unzeitgemässe Betrachtungen. Richard Oehler (ed.), 3–119. München: Musarion, 1922, 46. I n Richard Oehler’s historical Gesamtausgabe, it is still referred as “Das Philosophenbuch” to this collection, whereas in actual editions like Giorgio Colli and Mazzino Montinari’s Kritische Gesamtausgabe, it is part of “Nachgelassene Fragmente”. 17 See Agell, Fredrik. Die Frage nach dem Sinn des Lebens. Über Erkenntnis und Kunst im Denken Nietzsches. München: Wilhelm Fink Verlag, 2006, 214. 18 Nietzsche, Friedrich. Le Livre du philosophe. Études théoriques, Angèle Kremer-Marietti (ed./ trans.). Paris: Aubier Flammarion, 2014. T   he English translation is entitled Nietzsche, Philosophy and Truth. Selections from Nietzsche’s Notebooks of the Early 1870’s. For its publication history, see Kremer-Marietti, Angèle. “Nietzsche’s Critique of Modern Reason” In: Nietzsche, Theories of Knowledge, and Critical Theory. Nietzsche and the Sciences I, Babette Babich and Robert S. Cohen (eds.), 87–102. Dodrecht: Springer Netherlands, 1999, 100.

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Could the infinite and the finite be mere illusions, the one just as much as the other, and each, as it were, the illusion of the other? Are they mirages, reflections or refractions, or in some sense that which lies short of – and beyond – each part? Time per se is an absurdity; likewise space per se. The relative and the absolute are reflections of one another; each always refers back to the other, and the same is true of space and time. (PS, 181)

Subsequent to these considerations, Lefebvre is shifting from the configuration of the universe to the perspective of the subject: “‘Every form belongs to the subject.”19 (PS, 181) This shift is explainable if one considers the entire passage of Nietzsche’s text: “Zeit an sich ist Unsinn: nur für ein empfindendes Wesen giebt es Zeit. Ebenso Raum.”20 In other words, the finiteness of time and space can only be experienced by a sensing being. Form, as already mentioned, is experienced by the living body. If space is shaped by the subject, “[i]t is the apprehension of the surface by the mirror’”. The quotation followed with: “‘Durch Spiegel’ – i.e. in, by, and through the mirror.” (PS, 181) For Lefebvre, the mirror is thus central for the experience of space. It “presents or offers the most unifying but also the most disjunctive relationship between form and content: forms therein have a powerful reality yet remain unreal […]” (PS, 185 f.). Even if the mirror is often treated as a symbol of self-consciousness already in “mythic modes” (PS, 186), Lefebvre is focusing on its materiality. But for him, the process of reflection is not bound to the object itself. Bodies moving in space, for instance, serve as mirrors for each other: […] every shape in space, every spatial plane, constitutes a mirror and produces a mirage effect; […] within each body, the rest of the world is reflected, and referred back to, in an ever-renewed and to-and-fro of reciprocal reflection […]. (PS, 183)

Even though he is focussing on the meaning of mirror for the material body, Lefebvre is also discussing the importance of the subject’s or ego’s relation to the other as a mirror-image.

3 Me, Myself and the Mirror The mirror plays an important role in psychoanalytic theory. “Jacques Lacan and his followers” are mentioned early in The Production of Space (PS, 36), although they are, like every other structuralist Lefebvre refers to, mainly treated in a 19 The German text is quoted in a footnote: “‘Alle Gestalt ist dem Subjekt zugehörig. […]’” 20 Nietzsche, Vorarbeiten, 46.

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condescending manner.21 According to Lacan, the gaze in the mirror helps the infant to create himself or herself as a complete person. At the same time, she or he creates an ideal image of the self.22 Instead of achieving self-awareness, the subject is “in situational rivalry with its mirror-image”,23 it gets caught in imaginary projections of itself. Lacan argues that this first “explication of unity for the child” is bound to “the exteriority of the source of unity”:24 “the subject is shaped literally from the outside in”.25 Lefebvre counters that the mirror discloses the relationship between me and myself, my body and the consciousness of my body – not because the reflection constitutes my unity qua subject, as many psychoanalysts and psychologists apparently believe, but because it transforms what I am into the sign of what I am. (PS, 185)

In regarding the mirror as a material object, there are certain similarities between Lacan’s and Lefebvre’s thoughts. Both are concerned with the complex relation between the inside and the outside: By emphasizing the inherent exteriority of what we come to misrecognize as an egoic interiority, […] Lacan is taking the first steps in developing what will […] become a complex topological demonstration of ways in which what seems innermost is constituted in a space radically distinct from any simple inside/outside opposition.26

Lefebvre’s definition of the mirror is not so far from this aspect of Lacan’s thoughts: “When the mirror is ‘real’, as is constantly the case in the realm of objects, the space in the mirror is imaginary – and […] the locus of the imagination is the ‘Ego’.” (PS, 182) For Lacan, only the entrance in the “symbolic order” of the language allows the Ego (“‘je’” instead of “‘moi’”) to articulate itself.27 Lefebvre disagrees with this point. He doubts that “a representational space […] is subsequently experienced in a pathological manner” (PS, 204), as he assumes the fragmented body is 21 The Americanist Virginia Blum and the cultural scholar Heidi Nast even go so far to argue that Lefebvre “condemns the structuralist projects of many of his French contemporaries and predecessors, including Saussure, Lacan, Levi-Strauss, Althusser and Barthes”. Blum, Virginia and Heidi Nast. “Where’s the Difference? The Heterosexualization of Alterity in Henri Lefebvre and Jacques Lacan” Environment and Planning D: Society and Space 14 (1996): 559–580, here 559. 22 See Pagel, Gerda. Jacques Lacan zur Einführung. Hamburg: Junius, 1989, 23 f. 23 Blum and Nast, Where’s the Difference?, 564. 24 Eyers, Tom. Lacan and the Concept of the ‘Real’. Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, 2012, 20. 25 Blum and Nast, Where’s the Difference?, 564. 26 Eyers, Concept of the Real, 20. 27 Pagel, Lacan, 27–33.

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conceptualized in Lacan’s theory. According to the literary scholar Ian Davidson, Lefebvre’s interpretation of the mirror as a medium for experiencing space differs from Lacan: “The visual and conceptual understanding of the relationship between subject and space continues, for Lacan, through the subject’s entry into the symbolic order of the language.”28 For Lefebvre, “it is the body and the body’s movement through the world that produces space”.29 He criticizes the predominance of language in Lacan’s theory, because it is based on the Cartesian division of body and mind, in which the body is permanently downgraded (see PS, 204). Whereas Lacan situates the development of the desire for the other in the linguistic, Lefebvres locates it in the senses, especially in the olfactory experience. Here, his argument seems to be addressed directly to Lacan: Anyone who is wont (and every child falls immediately into this category) to identify places, people and things by their smells is unlikely to be very susceptible to rhetoric. Transitional objects to which desire becomes attached in seeking to escape subjectivity and reach out to ‘the other’ are founded primarily on the olfactory sense […]. (PS, 198) 30

“[L]anguage, signs, abstraction” are at the same time not denied, they are “necessary”, but they prevent the “embrace of the lived experience” which gets detached “from the fleshly body” (PS, 203). This process of metaphorization “sets up a strange interplay between (verbal) disembodiment and (empirical) re-embodiment, […] between spatialization in an abstract expanse and localization in a determinate expanse”. It generates a “‘mixed’ space […] of the first year of life, and, later, of poetry and art” which is, in fact, defined as representational space (PS, 203). In this additional definition, representational space is associated with a stage of pre-consciousness. With view to the psychoanalytic terminology that is characteristic for Lacan’s theory, Lefebvre’s spatial triad might be associated with the Freudian terms ‘Ich’ (ego) for describing the spatial practice, ‘Über-Ich’ (super-ego) for describing the representations of space and ‘Es’ (id) for describing the representational spaces. And even though Lefebvre is critic of Lacan, one might establish a connection between his definition of representational spaces and the latter’s characterization of the real.31 For Lacan, the real is not equivalent to reality, but a state of 28 Davidson, Ideas of Space, 98. 29 Davidson, Ideas of Space, 98. See also PS, 204. 30 As Lefebvre is working with many literary examples himself, one text that comes in mind to the literary scholar defending her injured vanity is Patrick Süskind’s famous novel Das Parfum. Die Geschichte eines Mörders (1985) (Engl. Perfume: The Story of a Murderer). 31 Blum and Nast argue likewise, but they focus on Lefebvre’s “natural space” instead. See Blum and Nast, Where’s the Difference?, 563.

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experience of the subject’s first years of life. This experience is characterized by the simultaneity of inside and outside, fantasy and reality, the self and the other.32 According to Lacan, the real is reigned by the principle of pleasure – this strong connection with the ‘Es’ (id) can be rediscovered in Lefebvre’s characterization of espace vécu as well.33 Furthermore, Blum and Nast show in their gender-critical comparison of both thinkers first, that there are similarities between Lacan’s description of the movement from the real to the mirror stage and Lefebvre’s suggestion that the subject shifts “from natural space into what he calls absolute space”, and, second, that the “phallic formant of abstract space” is “clearly drawing on psychoanalytic constructions of the phallus”.34 Discussing social space, Lefebvre changes his focus from the subjective aspects of mirage effects to their meaning for contemporary politics. According to his argument, on a collective level, modern societies create an “impression of transparency” and the illusion of “the marvellous reality on the other side of the mirror” (PS, 189) in the form of something Lefebvre characterizes as ‘new’ or ‘real life’. Capitalism gives the (false) promise that this alternative reality can be reached by consumption. On this point, Lefebvre is trying to extend Lacan’s definition of the mirror stage to “some recognition of underlying material, spatial, and political forces that exceed the visual domain”35 and thus complementing it with a concept of political agency. Lefebvre proclaims the possibility of a “total revolution – material, economic, social, political, psychic, cultural, erotic, etc.” – but in order to “change life, we must first change space” (PS, 190). The search for an “‘alternative society’ or ‘counter-culture’” (PS, 381) is taken up again in the last chapters of The Production of Space. It is finally described as “[t]he creation (or production) of a planet-wide space as the social foundation of a transformed everyday life open to myriad possibilities” (PS, 422).

4 The Mirror Effects of Landscape For Lacan, self-consciousness is obtained by a gaze in the mirror, whereas for Lefebvre, mirage effects are not reduced to this object of glass. As Virginia Blum

32 See Pagel, Lacan, 57. 33 See Schmid, Stadt, Raum und Gesellschaft, 207 f. 34 Blum and Nast, Where’s the Difference?, 565 and 573. F   or a further discussion of the relation between natural and abstract space, see Sebastian Dorsch’s contribution in this edition. 35 Blum and Nast, Where’s the Difference?, 568.

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and Heidi Nast point out, for Lefebvre, the entire “sociospatial landscape”36 is included in this process of (self-)reflection. This means also, that the environment is not perceived objectively, but that it becomes the imaginary creation of the subject: The power of a landscape does not derive from the fact that it offers itself as a spectacle, but rather from the fact that, as mirror and mirage, it presents any susceptible viewer with an image at once true and false of a creative capacity which the subject (or Ego) is able, during a moment of marvellous self-deception, to claim as his own. (PS, 189)

Lefebvre argues that the landscape owns “the seductive power of all pictures” (PS, 189) and thus refers to the mediality of the visual experience of the observation of landscapes. Elsewhere, he classifies the (material) landscape as part of “non-verbal signifying sets” (PS, 62). Lefebvre’s description of the act of perceiving landscape can be set in proximity to the artistic discourse of landscape painting. The rise of this tradition was closely related to “the discovery of the principles of perspective drawing”37 in the art of the Renaissance. This technique made it possible to represent threedimensional objects on a two-dimensional plane – the material space became representable through the medium for the first time.38 It was only then that artists turned to “the actual topographies of the world around them”.39 In landscape painting, perspective created the illusion of immediacy for the onlooker whereas it actually alienated him or her from the landscape he or she gazed at. But the loss is not noticed by the observer for she or he comes to the “useful conviction that the world can be mastered by the eye”.40 This “prioritization[…] of vision and

36 Blum and Nast, Where’s the Difference?, 565. 37 Chaudhuri, Una. “Land/Scape/Theory” In: Land/Scape/Theater, Elinor Fuchs and Una Chaudhuri (eds.), 11–29. Michigan: The University of Michigan Press, 2002, 18. 38 See Wendland, Michael. “Giotto und die Erfindung der Perspektive” In: Der wunderbare florentinische Geist. Einblicke in die Kultur und Ideengeschichte des Rinascimento, Michal Schmidt and Michael Wendland (eds.), 157–160. Karlsruhe: KIT Scientific Publishing, 2011, 157. 39 Chaudhuri, Land/Scape/Theory, 16. I n this article, the harmonic representation of nature in landscape painting is put in context with the ideology of rising capitalism – the harmony that is sought in landscape serves as a compensation for the actual modification or destruction of natural space. See Chaudhuri, Land/ Scape/Theory, 18. Lefebvre seems to argue in a similar direction: “As for the lyrical space of legend and myth, of forests, lakes and oceans, it vies with the bureaucratic and political space to which the nation states have been giving form since the seventeenth century. Yet it also completes that space, supplying it with a ‘cultural’ side.” (PS, 231) 40 Chaudhuri, Land/Scape/Theory, 19.

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visuality”41 explains, according to the Anglicist Una Chaudhuri, the success of perspective and the glorification of landscape painting. The actual “passivity of a vision-centered relation to the world” which can be compared “with the touristic experience of a landscape”42 is, of course, criticized by Lefebvre. Art in general can be seen as concerned with the relation between visibility and invisibility or between absence and presence. In art scholarship, it pertains to the fundamental ‘iconic difference’ that the picture present in the painting is not identical with the (absent) original.43 Another aspect of iconic difference is seen in the simultaneity of opacity and transparency that is considered being constitutive for every painting. In this context, opacity makes the painting’s materiality visible whereas transparency refers to its greater meaning.44 Lefebvre refers not directly to the visual arts, but his discussion of the “dual ‘nature’” of social space contains several parallels to the self-conception of the fine arts. Lefebvre describes the subject’s existence in natural and even more in social space as a “movement from obscurity into enlightenment” and as an “incessant deciphering activity”. In this scenario, the “concealed parts of space” have often “come to have associated with themselves symbols, or corresponding signs” (PS, 183). In this context, Lefebvre also mentions poets, who, from Dante to Hugo, were able to explore “the dichotomy between the shadows and the light” (PS, 242). Since the characterization of visual arts and poetry as sister arts in antiquity, there has been a long tradition of scholarship about the influence of verbal and visual representation on each other.45 For comparative analyses of both arts, the different sign systems between those two media have to be considered.46 Space, mirror/mirage, obscurity, visibility, and the role of the subject – one cannot help but notice that Lefebvre’s vocabulary is reminiscent to Michel Foucault’s characteristic of the term “representation” in his famous analysis of Velázquez’ Las Meninas (1656) in Les mots et les choses (1966, Engl. The Order of Things). In this painting, the reversed canvas and an object which appears to be a mirror cause confusion about what they are or might be reflecting. Therefore, these elements trigger wide-ranging debates about the picture’s meaning. As the

41 Chaudhuri, Land/Scape/Theory, 19. 42 Blum and Nast, Where’s the Difference?, 567. 43 See Thaler, Alice. Von ontologischen Dualismen des Bildes. Philosophische Ästhetik als Grundlage kunstwissenschaftlicher Hermeneutik. Basel: Schwabe Verlag, 2015, 140. 44 See Thaler, Philosophische Ästhetik, 142 f. 45 See e.g. Benthien, Claudia and Brigitte Weingart. “Einleitung” In: Handbuch Literatur & Visuelle Kultur, Claudia Benthien and Brigitte Weingart (eds.), 1–28. Berlin/Boston: de Gruyter, 2014, here 9 f. 46 See Benthien and Weingart, Einleitung, 13.

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art historian Robert Felfe argues amongst others, Foucault interprets the painting as ‘the representation of classic representation’.47 This representation emphasizes the instability of the order of classical knowledge: Dieser Repräsentation sind Unsichtbarkeiten immanent. Sie zeigt, sie benennt und spricht aus, und sie tut dies, indem etwas anderes nicht erscheint und nicht erscheinen kann; etwas, das gleichwohl für die Repräsentation konstitutiv ist.48

The blind spot in this representation is the human being, which was not conceptualized in a special role as both object and subject of knowledge until the nineteenth century.49 But aside from Foucault’s characterization of epistemes in different epochs, the motif of the mirror in the painting represents the relationship of visibility and invisibility, or, in Lefebvre’s words, opacity and transparency. Consequently, he characterizes the representation as an intermediary between the conçu and the vécu.50

5 Theatrical Space The importance of the mirror is discussed in some detail in The Production of Space. Some other aspects of a “theory of reflections and mirages” (PS, 188) are mentioned rather briefly. Lefebvre argues that theatrical space has to be included in a “‘theory of doubles’” (which is only highlighted in the theory of the production of space, but does not exist as an independent work), as this space is characterized by “its interplay between fictitious and real counterparts and its interaction between gazes and mirages in which actor, audience, ‘characters’, text, and author all come together but never become one” (PS, 188). It is “[b]y means of such theatrical interplay” that “bodies are able to pass from a ‘real’, immediately experienced space ([…] the stage) to a perceived space – a third space which is no longer either scenic or public” (PS, 188).

47 See Felfe, Robert. “Las Meninas. Blinde Flecken der klassischen Repräsentation” In: Auslassungen. Leerstellen als Movens der Kulturwissenschaft, Natascha Adamowsky and Peter Matussek (eds.), 135–146. Würzburg: Königshausen & Neumann 2004, 136. 48 Felfe, Blinde Flecken, 136.  “Invisibilities are immanent to this kind of representation. It shows, it names and it utters, and it does this as something else is not appearing and cannot appear; something, that is constitutive for the representation nonetheless.” (trans. J.B.) 49 See Felfe, Blinde Flecken, 136. 50 See Lefebvre, La présence et l’absence, 197 f.

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To define “classical theatrical space” as “[a]t once fictitious and real”, Lefebvre is thus actually using the expression “third space” (PS, 188) that has been discussed so controversially in Lefebvre scholarship (see section one in this article). If the reader wonders which position in the spatial triad this ‘third space’ would get, the answer is given right away: To the question of whether such a space is a representation of space or a representational space, the answer must be neither – and both. Theatrical space certainly implies a representation of space – scenic space – corresponding to a particular conception of space (that of the classical drama, say – or the Elizabethan, or the Italian). The representational space, mediated yet directly experienced, which infuses the work and the moment, is established as such through dramatic action itself. (PS, 188)

Lefebvre distinguishes between the scenic space from the space that is produced during performance. From the perspective of theater scholarship, this idea would have to be extended to dramatic space as the fictitious setting developed in the dramatic text.51 This ‘third space’ cannot be assigned to just one element of the spatial triad. In regard to Soja’s criticized conception of ‘Thirdspace’, one might argue that this is less to be understood as a ‘space’ but more as a ‘moment’. The moment, on the other hand, can be connected with the artistic production of an œuvre, which is described as the conjunction of the conçu and the vécu.52 In this sense, it seems characteristic for representational spaces. One might ask if the dramatic performance on grounds of its immediacy is privileged by Lefebvre in comparison to other art forms. Although he describes a piece of art as unique, he values in fact the act of production, the creative moment, higher than the product. Texts from other literary genres can be “brought back to life by the performative act of reading”.53 This understanding of poetry is based on the ancient Greek concept of poiesis as a live performance.54 With regard to social space as Lefebvre’s preferred object of investigation, for further consideration it might be interesting to set his conception of ‘third space’ in context with Erving Goffman’s metaphor of the world as theater.55

51 See Hauthal, Janine. “Von den Brettern, die die Welt bedeuten, zur ‘Bühne’ des Textes: Inszenierungen des Raumes im Drama zwischen mise en scène und mise en page” In: Raum und Bewegung in der Literatur. Die Literaturwissenschaften und der Spatial Turn, Wolfgang Hallet and Birgit Neumann (eds.), 371–397. Bielefeld: Transcript 2009, 371 f. 52 Hess, Remi. Henri Lefebvre et la pensée du possible. Théorie des moments et construction de la personne. Paris: Anthropos, 2009, 204. 53 Davidson, Ideas of Space, 92. 54 See Bauer, Poesie und Poiesis, 137 f. 55 See Goffman, Erving. The Presentation of Self in Everyday Life. New York: Anchor Books, 1959.

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Lefebvre’s thoughts on theatrical space have recently been featured in literary, more precisely in drama studies. Janine Hauthal points out that Henri Lefebvre’s concept of the cultural/social production of space can be used to misalign the relationship between spatial order and performative spatial practices in theoretical discussions. In previous debates, the analysis of the spatial order had been more attributed to drama theory, whereas the examination of performative practices would be associated with theatre studies. Hauthal argues that this separation has to be reconsidered in the era of post-dramatic drama texts.56 Natascha Siouzouli uses Lefebvre’s thoughts on presence and absence in her dissertation to characterize how their dialectic shifts from the dramatic text to the performance.57 The relationship between presence and absence/representation is a subject of debates in philosophy and media theory.58 In La présence et l’abscence (1980), Lefebvre gives different characterizations of the dramatic and the epic genre against the background of his definition of the term “representation” as a combination of presence and absence: Au théâtre, le mouvement se construit autour d’une présence qu’il faut donner. Présence multiple (le texte, le décor, les éclairages, l’acteur, le spectateur, l’auteur). Tandis que le récit romanesque se construit autour d’une évocation par l’imaginaire, celle d’une absence.59

In theater scholarship, the relation of dramatic text and performance can be described as a dialectic between presence and absence: “Was der Text zu verstellen, zu verschleiern und zu verschieben vermag, wird in der Aufführung Teil einer opaken Präsenz, welche die textuell artikulierte Absenz als solche nicht mehr präsent werden lässt.”60 Whereas the drama theorist Patrice Pavice sees the dramatic text as an “absence standing for the present”, he defines the performance

56 See Hauthal, Inszenierungen des Raumes im Drama, 372 f. 57 See Siouzouli, Natascha. Wie Absenz zur Präsenz entsteht. Botho Strauß inszeniert von Luc Bondy. Bielefeld: Transcript, 2008. 58 See e.g. Kolesch, Doris: “Präsenz” In: Metzler Lexikon Theatertheorie, Erika Fischer-Lichte, Doris Kolesch and Matthias Warstat (Hg.), 267–270. Stuttgart: Metzler, 2014 [2nd ed.]. 59 Lefebvre, La présence et l’absence, 233.  “On stage, movement is formed around a presence that has to be given. A multiple presence (the text, the setting, the lighting, the actor, the spectator, the author). By contrast, the narrative of the novel is constructed around an evocation of an absence through the imaginary / imagination.” (trans. J.B.) 60 Siouzouli, Wie Absenz zur Präsenz entsteht, 189.  “What the text is capable to obscure and to displace, becomes part of an opaque presence during the performance, which allows the textually articulated absence as such no longer to become present.” (trans. J.B.)

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as “a presence representing absence”.61 Space and time are described as “die Elemente par excellence” for mediating the dialectic of textual absence and performative presence.62

Conclusion As I have shown, reflection is the key concept to conceptualize the double character of material and immaterial space and its mutual influence for Lefebvre. The mirror and its ambiguity as a material object presenting an immaterial space forms the point of origin for these examinations. Even if the possibility of comparing psychoanalytic inspired theories with Lefebvre’s spatial theory is questioned,63 his own implicit issues with positions such as Lacan’s seems noteworthy, as it is still little noticed. If it comes to the question of how the literary studies can take part in the interdisciplinary debate on Lefebvre, their expertise lies, along with the studies of related arts, in the exploration of the representations of space of different eras as well as in the definition of terms such as symbol, sign and representation and their demarcation from each other. This perspective has until now rarely been connected with Lefebvre’s diversified thoughts on language, communication, representation, presence/absence and artificial production. These could be of interest for the humanities far beyond his spatial theory. To come back to the question of what function imaginary spaces have in Lefebvre’s theory of the production of space, it can be stated that they play an important role for Lefebvre’s conception of a “‘revolution of space’” which is “subsuming the ‘urban revolution’” (PS, 419). For Lefebvre, this would mean “producing the space of the human species […] on the model of what used to be called ‘art’” (PS, 422).

References Agell, Fredrik. Die Frage nach dem Sinn des Lebens. Über Erkenntnis und Kunst im Denken Nietzsches. München: Wilhelm Fink Verlag, 2006. Bauer, Jenny. “Poesie und Poesis. Literaturwissenschaftliche Perspektiven auf Henri Lefebvre” In: Mediale Räume, Stephan Günzel (ed.), 125–139. Berlin: Kadmos, 2018 [forthcoming].

61 See Siouzouli, Wie Absenz zur Präsenz entsteht, 189. 62 See Siouzouli, Wie Absenz zur Präsenz entsteht, 192. 63 See Schmid, Stadt, Raum und Gesellschaft, 303 f.

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Benthien, Claudia and Brigitte Weingart. “Einleitung” In: Handbuch Literatur & Visuelle Kultur, Claudia Benthien and Brigitte Weingart (eds.), 1–28. Berlin/Boston: de Gruyter, 2014. Blum, Virginia and Heidi Nast. “Where’s the Difference? The Heterosexualization of Alterity in Henri Lefebvre and Jacques Lacan” Environment and Planning D: Society and Space 14 (1996): 559–580. Chaudhuri, Una. “Land/Scape/Theory” In: Land/Scape/Theater, Elinor Fuchs and Una Chaudhuri (eds.), 11–29. Michigan: The University of Michigan Press 2002. Darvas, György. Symmetry. Cultural-Historical and Ontological Aspects of Science-Arts Relations, David Robert Evans (trans.). Basel/Boston/Berlin: Birkhäuser Verlag, 2007. Davidson, Ian. Ideas of Space in Contemporary Poetry. New York: Palgrave, 2007. Engelke, Jan. Kulturpoetiken des Raumes. Die Verschränkung von Raum-, Text- und Kulturtheorie. Würzburg: Königshausen und Neumann, 2009. The Editors of Encyclopedia Britannica: “Hermann Weyl” In: http://www.britannica.com/ biography.Hermann-Weyl (19/06/18). Eyers, Tom. Lacan and the Concept of the ‘Real’. Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan 2012. Felfe, Robert. “Las Meninas. Blinde Flecken der klassischen Repräsentation” In: Auslassungen. Leerstellen als Movens der Kulturwissenschaft, Natascha Adamowsky and Peter Matussek (eds.), 135–146. Würzburg: Königshausen & Neumann 2004. Goffman, Erving. The Presentation of Self in Everyday Life. New York: Anchor Books, 1959. Günzel, Stephan and Christoph Windgätter. “Leib/Raum. Das Unbewusste bei Merleau-Ponty” In: Das Unbewusste. Bd. II: Das Unbewusste in aktuellen Diskursen, Michael B. Buchholz and Günter Gödde (eds.), 585–616. Gießen: Psychosozial, 2005. Hauthal, Janine. “Von den Brettern, die die Welt bedeuten, zur ‘Bühne’ des Textes: Inszenierungen des Raumes im Drama zwischen mise en scène und mise en page” In: Raum und Bewegung in der Literatur. Die Literaturwissenschaften und der Spatial Turn, Wolfgang Hallet and Birgit Neumann (eds.), 371–397. Bielefeld: Transcript 2009. Hess, Remi. Henri Lefebvre et la pensée du possible. Théorie des moments et construction de la personne. Paris: Anthropos, 2009. Kolesch, Doris: “Präsenz” In: Metzler Lexikon Theatertheorie, Erika Fischer-Lichte, Doris Kolesch and Matthias Warstat (Hg.), 267–270. Stuttgart: Metzler, 2014 [2nd ed.]. Kremer-Marietti, Angèle. “Nietzsche’s Critique of Modern Reason” In: Nietzsche, Theories of Knowledge, and Critical Theory. Nietzsche and the Sciences I, Babette Babich and Robert S. Cohen (eds.), 87–102. Dodrecht: Springer Netherlands, 1999. Lefebvre, Henri. La présence et l’absence. Contribution à la théorie des représentations. Tournai: Casterman 1980. Lefebvre, Henri. The Production of Space, Donald Nicholson-Smith (trans.). Oxford: Blackwell Publishing, 2010 [29th ed.]. Nietzsche, Friedrich. Le Livre du philosophe. Études théoriques, Angèle Kremer-Marietti (ed./ trans.). Paris: Aubier Flammarion, 2014. Nietzsche, Friedrich. “Vorarbeiten zu einer Schrift über den Philosophen (1872/73, 1875)” In: Gesammelte Werke. Bd. 6: Philosophenbuch. Unzeitgemässe Betrachtungen. Richard Oehler (ed.), 3–119. München: Musarion, 1922. Pagel, Gerda. Jacques Lacan zur Einführung. Hamburg: Junius, 1989. Schmid, Christian. Stadt, Raum und Gesellschaft. Henri Lefebvre und die Theorie der Produktion des Raumes. München: Franz Steiner Verlag, 2005. Shields, Rob. Lefebvre, Love & Struggle. Spatial Dialectics. New York: Routledge, 1999.

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Sigurdsson, Skúli. “Journeys in spacetime” In: Herman Weyl’s Raum – Zeit – Materie and a General Introduction to His Scientific Work, Erhard Scholz (ed.), 15–47. Basel/Boston/ Berlin: Springer Basel, 2001. Siouzouli, Natascha. Wie Absenz zur Präsenz entsteht. Botho Strauß inszeniert von Luc Bondy. Bielefeld: Transcript, 2008. Soja, Edward. Thirdspace. Journeys to Los Angeles and Other Real-and-Imagined-Places. Cambridge/Massachusetts: Blackwell Publishers, 1996. Thaler, Alice. Von ontologischen Dualismen des Bildes. Philosophische Ästhetik als Grundlage kunstwissenschaftlicher Hermeneutik. Basel: Schwabe Verlag, 2015. Weixler, Antonius. Poetik des Transvisuellen. Carl Einsteins “écriture visionnaire” und die ästhetische Moderne. Berlin: de Gruyter, 2016. Wendland, Michael. “Giotto und die Erfindung der Perspektive” In: Der wunderbare florentinische Geist. Einblicke in die Kultur und Ideengeschichte des Rinascimento, Michal Schmidt and Michael Wendland (eds.), 157–160. Karlsruhe: KIT Scientific Publishing, 2011. Weyl, Herrmann. Symmetry. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1980.

About the Authors

Biographical Information Lívia Alcântara (M.A. Sociology, Rio de Janeiro) is a PhD Candidate in Sociology at the Instituto de Estudos Sociais e Políticos of Universidade do Estado Rio de Janeiro. After completing her master’s degree in Theories of Social Movements from a communication perspective, she joined the doctorate in the same university. Her PhD project examines the international solidarity of activism of diasporic Mexican communities in Barcelona, funded CNPq. She won a PhD scholarship from Faperj to study a year in Spain (Universitat de Lleida) and develop this research. Lívia is also a member of the research project “Transformations of Activism in Brazil: June 2013 in a Comparative Perspective”, funded by Capes, in which she works about media activists under the experiences of the Jornadas de Junho de 2013 in Rio de Janeiro. Recent publications are “Cyberactivism and the Communicative Dimension of Social Movements: repertoires, Organization and Diffusion” Política & Sociedade 15 (2016): 315–338. Jenny Bauer (M.A. Göttingen, PhD Kassel) is an academic assistant on gender equality at the DFG Research Training Group “Interdisciplinary Privacy Research” at Passau University. After studying Comparative Literature, Scandinavian Literature and Gender Studies in Göttingen, she enrolled in the DFG Research Training Group “Dynamics of Space and Gender” (Kassel University). In 2014, she received her PhD and afterwards worked as a postdoctoral researcher at the DFG Research Training Group “Topology of Technology” (TU Darmstadt). In 2014, she organized, together with Robert Fischer, Sebastian Dorsch and Susanne Rau, the interdisciplinary workshop “Lefebvre lesen” at Erfurt University. In 2015, the follow-up workshop “Raum anders denken” took place at TU Darmstadt. She is member of the Erfurt SpaceTime Research Group. Recent publications are “How to Write an Author. Biografische Spurensuche zu Toni Schwabe (1877–1951)” Jahrbuch Sexualitäten (2018): 31–56, “Verfolgt, verteidigt, vermessen. Genderperspektiven auf Machtverhältnisse im digitalen Kontext” Magazin des DFG-Graduiertenkollegs „Privatheit und Digitalisierung“ 10 (2018): 5–9. Online: www.privatheit.uni-passau.de/ magazin-des-graduiertenkollegs/, and the co-edition of the miscellany Heimat-Räume. Komparatistische Perspektiven auf Herkunftsnarrative (together with Claudia Gremler and Niels Penke). Essen: Ch.A. Bachmann Verlag, 2014. Anne Brüske (M.A. Heidelberg, PhD Heidelberg) directed the Junior Research Group “From the Caribbean to North America and Back. Processes of Transculturation in Literature, Popular Culture, and New Media” at the Heidelberg University from 2010 to 2017. After studying Romance Literature and Sociology in Heidelberg and Montpellier, she was an associated pre-doctoral researcher in the PhD program “Gender in Motion” at the University of Basel and defended her doctoral thesis “Das weibliche Subjekt in der Krise. Anthropologische Semantik in Laclos’ Liaisons dangereuses” in Heidelberg in 2008. Besides her interest in French Enlightenment fiction, culture and their role in social evolution, she has widely published in the field of Caribbean Literary and Cultural Studies. In 2015, she organized with Anja Bandau (Leibniz University Hannover) and Natascha Ueckmann (Martin Luther University HalleWittenberg) the international and interdisciplinary conference “Reshaping Glocal Dynamics of the Caribbean” which was funded by the Volkswagen Foundation. Currently, she is working on her habilitation project, a book-length study on the production of fictional space in HispanoCaribbean and Haitian-American diaspora fiction. This monograph combines Henri Lefebvres’ spatial framework, intersectional and decolonial approaches, and literary theory in order to analyze processes of de- and reterritorialization in contemporary postcolonial fiction. Recent publications include: Bandau, Anja, Anne Brüske and Natascha Ueckmann (eds.): Reshaping https://doi.org/10.1515/9783110494983-011

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Glocal Dynamics of the Caribbean. Relations et Déconnexions – Relaciones y Desconexiones – Relations and Disconnections. Heidelberg: heiUP, 2018 [forthcoming]; “Re/escrituras de una Historia negra femenina desde Puerto Rico. las Necras de Yolanda Arroyo Pizarro y Fe en disfraz de Mayra Santos Febres en la tradición del neo-slave narrative” In: Pluraler Humanismus? Négritude und Negrismo weiter gedacht, Gisela Febel and Natascha Ueckmann (eds.), 207–232. Wiesbaden: Springer, 2018. Sebastian Dorsch (B.A. Passau/Erfurt, M.A. Erfurt/Mexico-City, PhD Erfurt) is Research Assistant and Coordinator of the project “What is Western about the ‘West’?” (Erfurt University) as well as Research Assistant at Gotha Research Centre. After having been awarded his M.A. from Erfurt University and Universidad Nacional Autónoma de México (UNAM), he worked six years at the chair for Latin and Southwestern European History (Erfurt). In 2008 he defended his PhD thesis on the struggles for constitutional cultures in Michoacán (Mexico) before, during and after the political independence of Mexico in 1821. In 2010 the thesis was published as Verfassungskultur in Michoacán (Mexiko): Ringen um Ordnung und Souveränität im Zeitalter der Atlantischen Revolutionen (Lateinamerikanische Forschungen 37). Köln/Weimar/Wien: Böhlau, 2010. After his PhD, he received a grant for the project ‘Cultural TimeSpaces of an Atlantic Metropolis. São Paulo, 1867–1930’ funded by the Deutsche Forschungsgemeinschaft (German Research Foundation). While working on this project he initiated the interdisciplinary Erfurt SpaceTime Research Group (www.uni-erfurt.de/philosophische-fakultaet/raumzeit-forschung/) in cooperation with Susanne Rau (Erfurt). After the organisation of several workshops, he published a special issue titled Space/Time Practices in the journal Historical Social Research 3 (2013). In 2015 the Group began publishing a series SpatioTemporality, in which this book appears. Dorsch’s current research is concerned with the history of cartographical knowledge on the Amazon around 1900. He has published on this topic the essay “Wissen produzieren, lokalisieren und imaginieren. Von ‘falschen Karten’ und ‘wissenschaftlichen Expeditionen’ in der Auseinandersetzung um Guyana. 1880er bis 1900er Jahre” (Producing, Localising, and Imaging Knowledge. On ‘false maps’ and ‘scientific expeditions’ in the Brazilian-French debates about Guyana. 1880s–1900s) Berichte zur Wissenschaftsgeschichte 40 (2016): 39–63. Robert Fischer (B.A. and M.A. Erfurt/Mexico-City, PhD Erfurt) is a workshop facilitator and researcher working with interdisciplinary groups at the Technische Universität Dresden. He studied English Language and Literature, History (with a strong focus on Latin American History) and Social and Political Science at Erfurt University and at Universidad Nacional Autónoma de México in Mexico-City. In 2012 he received a scholarship from the “Platform World Regions – Area Studies Transregional” to pursue his PhD project about a history of sexuality in the US-Mexican border twin cities of El Paso and Ciudad Juárez in the modern era defending his thesis in 2016. Part of the project was archival research on site supported among others by the German Historical Institute, Washington D.C. and the Colegio de la Frontera Norte, Ciudad Juárez. During his PhD Robert Fischer founded the Lefebvre Reading Group with Jenny Bauer and was strongly engaged in research on Lefebvre. Also, he is a founding member of the Erfurt SpaceTime Research Group. Fischer’s research in history concentrates on Mexico and the United States and includes history of knowledge: Eugenik in Mexiko. Körperbild anhand der Sociedad Mexicana de Eugenesia, 1930–1950. Saarbrücken: AV Akademikerverlag, 2016; as well as diversity studies: “Pinturas de Castas. Verbildlichung von race und sex im kolonialen Mexiko” In: race&sex: Eine Geschichte der Neuzeit. 49 Schlüsseltexte aus vier Jahrhunderten neu gelesen, Jürgen Martschukat and Olaf Stieglitz (eds.), 365–374. Berlin: Neofelis, 2016. Also,

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he studies postcolonial approaches and global history: “Introduction. Reflecting on Narrative Othering through Imperial TimeSpaces” In: TimeSpace of the Imperial, Holt Meyer, Susanne Rau and Katharina Waldner (eds.), 21–24. Berlin: de Gruyter, 2017. Only recently Fischer started researching Design Thinking: Fischer, Robert et al: Applying Design Thinking - A Workbook for Academics and Researchers in Higher Education. DT.Uni. Workbooks. TU Dresden: 2018 [forthcoming]. Fraya Frehse (M.A., PhD and Habilitation at Universidade de São Paulo, Post-doc at Humboldt Universität zu Berlin and Freie Universität Berlin) is Professor of Sociology at Universidade de São Paulo, alumna of the Alexander von Humboldt Foundation (as of 2010) and a member of Spatio-Temporal Studies Erfurt (as of 2014). She has a B.A. and a teaching diploma in Social Sciences (Sociology, Anthropology and Political Science) from Universidade de São Paulo, where she also received her M.A. and PhD in social anthropology (after spending eight months at the University of Oxford, the École des Hautes Études en Sciences Sociales and Freie Universität Berlin as a visiting student), and her Habilitation in sociology (of the city, space and everyday life). She accomplished a postdoctoral research in urban sociology at Freie Universität Berlin and Humboldt-Universität zu Berlin with a fellowship by the Alexander von Humboldt Foundation. She was a visiting fellow at Humboldt-Universität zu Berlin, at Technische Universität Darmstadt, at Freie Universität Berlin (where she held the Visiting Chair in Brazil Studies in 2014), and at Université Paris Diderot. Recent publications include “Relational Space through Historically Relational Time – in the Bodies of São Paulo’s Pedestrians” (Current Sociology, 65 (4), 2017: 511–532), the co-edition of Vivir y Pensar São Paulo y la Ciudad de México: Trayectorias de investigación en diálogo (Juan Pablos Editor, 2016) and of Militão Augusto de Azevedo (Cosac Naify, 2012), besides the edition of three international peerreviewed journal dossiers on urban and sociospatial studies in Latin America (2012–2013), and the book Ô da Rua! O Transeunte e o Advento da Modernidade em São Paulo (Edusp, 2011). Jacob Geuder (Basel) is a PhD-candidate in Sociology and works as assistant of Prof Elísio Macamo at the Centre for African Studies at the University of Basel. At the University of Konstanz (B.A.), he was trained in Sociology and Political Sciences, before studying the inter-disciplinary program of African Studies in Basel and finally embarking on a PhD-project about video-activism in Cape Town and Rio de Janeiro. With a focus on the “Global South”, Geuder’s work moves in-between the fields of urban and digital studies with special interest in audio-visual artefacts. Building on extended sojourns in Berlin, Bamako, Lisbon, Vienna, Cape Town and Rio de Janeiro, Geuder actively participates in international network of researchers, artists and activists. Supervised by Christian Schmid (ETH Zürich), he builds his research on Henri Lefebvre’s oeuvre and critically engages in actualizing the right to the city to current challenges. In collaboration with Iana Pavlova, Jacob Geuder organized the third Lefebvre-Workshop “Everday Poiesis” in Basel in 2017. Recent publications are “Retracing Africa in Basel – A Walking Tour” A*Magazine 1 (2017): 29, “Digitale Ambivalenzen – Medienaktivismus in Rio de Janeiro” Widerspruch 67 (2016): 107–115, and “Transformation and Production of Urban Spaces in Bamako, Mali” In: Informality and Urbanisation in African Contexts: Analyzing Economic and Social Impacts, Aline Afonso (ed.), 29–50. Lisbon: Centro de Estudos Internacionais do Instituto Universitário de Lisboa, 2015. Fernand M. Guelf (PhD Berlin) is a philosopher and writer living in Luxemburg and Berlin He studied Philosophy, Literature, History and Comparative Literature at the Universities of Saarbrücken, Trier and Berlin. In 2010, Guelf received a doctorate at TU Berlin with a thesis

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 Biographical Information

about Lefebvre’s works on urbanity. Based on La révolution urbaine, Guelf is setting Lefebvre’s theses on urbanization in the philosophical context of Lefebvre’s complete oeuvre. Recent publications are Auf der Suche nach Konrad. Wien: Passagen Verlag, 2014; … dichterisch wohnt der Mensch. Wien: Passagen Verlag, 2012; Fesseln der Zeit. Wien: Passagen Verlag, 2011. Stephan Günzel (M.A. in Magdeburg, PhD in Jena and Habilitation in Potsdam) since 2011 is professor of Media Theory at the University of Applied Sciences Europe in Berlin and head of the Institute for Design Research. At the same place he founded the Game Design BA-program and was visiting professor at the Humboldt-University in Berlin as well as at the Universities of Trier, Kassel and Göttingen. In his habilitation on Egoshooter (Frankfurt a.M./New York: Campus 2012) he adopted Henri Lefebvre for the field of Game Studies and focused on the dialectics of perspectival and cartographic depiction of space. He published several anthologies and encyclopedia on spatiality and imagery and is currently working on the concept of “Augmented Identities”. www.stephan-guenzel.de. Chris O’Kane (M.A. and PhD in Sussex) teaches philosophy, politics and economics at John Jay, CUNY. He studied History and the History of Political Thought at the University of Sussex. In 2013, he received his PhD (in Philosophy) on Fetishism and Social Domination in Marx, Lukács, Adorno and Lefebvre. His recent work has appeared in Logos, Constellations, Historical Materialism, and in Capital and Class. Along with Beverly Best and Werner Bonefeld he is an editor of the 3-volume Sage Handbook of Frankfurt School Critical Theory. He is also editing the new book series Critical Theory and the Critique of Society with Werner Bonefeld. Susanne Rau (M.A. in History, Romance Languages and Literatures and Philosophy in 1997, PhD in medieval and modern History in 2001 at Hamburg University, Habilitation in 2008 at Dresden University), is, since 2009, professor of spatial history and cultures at Erfurt University, Germany; since 2011 regular visiting professor at the ENS Lyon and the CIHAM, France, and from 2018 (to 2021) Distinguished Visiting Professor at the ENS Lyon. Regarding urban and spatial history, she is member of several advisory boards of academic journals (“Histoire urbaine”, “Moderne Stadtgeschichte”, and “Historische Zeitschrift”), member of the editorial board of the Encyclopedia of Early Modern History (1450–1850) and member (and spokesperson) of the research group “Spatio-Temporal Studies Erfurt”. Currently, she is engaged in a research project on the history of cartography in Europe and India. Recent publications: Räume. Konzepte – Praktiken – Nutzungen. Frankfurt: Campus, 2013, 2nd ed. 2017, English edition forthcoming (Routledge), “Imaginierte Räume. Zur Geschichte nicht-realisierter Stadtplanungsprojekte” Informationen zur modernen Stadtgeschichte 2 (2015): 129–147, SpaceTime of the Imperial (ed. with Holt Meyer and Katharina Waldner). Berlin/Boston: De Gruyter Oldenbourg, 2016. Tiziana Urbano (M.A Bari, PhD Palermo) is a researcher on cultural studies, performance and archeology of political discourse. After studying German and English Language and Literature in Bari (IT), she worked as PhD scholar in Palermo, Mainz (Kabarett Archiv) and Berlin. In 2012 she defended her PhD-thesis on German Kabarett of the second post-war period as stage of political discourse. Then she devoted her interests to GDR urban planning and to the genealogy of socialist urban discourse in fictional works (literary texts and DEFA-films). On this project she has worked as academic assistent at the University of Leipzig and as guest researcher at the Leibniz Institut für Länderkunde (Leipzig). She is concerned with both the Italian and the German reception of Lefebvre and has attended the Lefebvre Reading Group founded by Robert Fischer and Jenny Bauer.

Contributors Writing about Lefebvre Bauer, Jenny. “Poesie und Poiesis. Literaturwissenschaftliche Perspektiven auf Henri Lefebvre ” In: Mediale Räume, Stephan Günzel (ed.), 125–139. Berlin: Kadmos, 2018 [forthcoming]. Bauer, Jenny. Geschlechterdiskurse um 1900. Literarische Identitätsentwürfe im Kontext deutsch-skandinavischer Raumproduktion. Bielefeld: Transcript, 2016. Bauer, Jenny. “Differentielles Denken, heterogene Räume und Konzepte von Alltäglichkeit. Anknüpfungen an Henri Lefebvres Raumtheorie aus feministischer Perspektive” In: Neue Muster, alte Maschen? Interdisziplinäre Perspektiven auf die Verschränkungen von Geschlecht und Raum, Sonja Lehman, Karina Müller-Wienbergen and Julia Elena Thiel (eds.), 23–41. Bielefeld: Transcript, 2015. Dorsch, Sebastian. “Urban Phenomena in São Paulo’s Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries: Appropriating Local Spatio-Temporalities” Tempo Social Revista da Sociologica da USP (2019) [forthcoming]. Dorsch, Sebastian. “‘Translokale Wissensakteure’: Ein Debattenvorschlag zu Wissens- und Globalgeschichtsschreibung” ZfG. Zeitschrift für Geschichtswissenschaft 64:9 (2016): 78–95. Dorsch, Sebastian and Susanne Rau (ed.). Historical Social Research 3 (2013): Special Issue Space/Time Practices. Space/Time Practices and the Production of Space and Time. Dorsch, Sebastian. “Space/Time Practices and the Production of Space and Time. An Introduction” Historical Social Research 38:3 (2013): 7–21. Fischer, Robert. Sex im Grenzbereich – Sexualität, Devianz und Regulierung in den US-amerikanischen Grenzstädten Ciudad Juárez und El Paso, 1880–1950 [dissertation thesis, unpublished]. Fischer, Robert. “Mobility and Morality at the Border. A Lefebvrian Spatio-Temporal Analysis in Early Twentieth-Century Ciudad Juárez and El Paso” Historical Social Research 38:3 (2013): 176–196. Frehse, Fraya: “On the Everyday History of Pedestrians’ Bodies in São Paulo’s Downtown amidst Metropolization (1950–2000)” Urban Latin America: Words, Images, Flows and the Built Environment, Bianca Freire-Medeiros and Julia O’Donnell (eds.). London/New York: Routledge, 2018 [forthcoming]. Frehse, Fraya: “Relational Space through Historically Relational Time – in the Bodies of São Paulo’s Pedestrians” Current Sociology 65:4 (2017): 511–532. Frehse, Fraya: “Quando os ritmos corporais dos pedestres nos espaços públicos urbanos revelam ritmos da urbanização” Civitas: Revista de Ciências Sociais 16:1 (2016): 100–118. Frehse, Fraya: “For Difference ‘in and through’ São Paulo: The Regressive-Progressive Method” In: Urban Revolution Now, Łukasz Stanek, Christian Schmid and Ákos Moravánsky (eds.), 243–262. Farnham Surrey/Birlington: Ashgate, 2014. Frehse, Fraya (ed): “[Special Issue] O Espaço na Vida Social” Estudos Avançados 27:79 (2013): 67–144. Frehse, Fraya: “Os tempos (diferentes) do uso das praças da Sé em Lisboa e em São Paulo” In: Diálogos Urbanos: Territórios, culturas, patrimónios, Carlos Fortuna and Rogerio Proença Leite (eds.), 127–173. Coimbra: Almedina, 2013. Frehse, Fraya: “Zeiten im Körper: Das Potenzial der Lefebvre’schen Methode für die (lateinamerikanische) Stadtforschung” In: Stadtforschung aus Lateinamerika, Anne Huffschmid and Kathrin Wildner (eds.), 145–169. Bielefeld: Transcript, 2013.

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 Contributors Writing about Lefebvre

Frehse, Fraya: “U-topias (urbanas) do pensamento sociológico” Estudos Avançados 26:75 (2012): 191–206. Frehse, Fraya: Ô da Rua! O Transeunte e o Advento da Modernidade em São Paulo. São Paulo: Edusp, 2011. Frehse, Fraya: “Potencialidades do método regressivo-progressivo: Pensar a cidade, pensar a história” Tempo Social 13:2 (2001): 169–184. Geuder, Jacob: “The Right to the City” In: Public Art in Africa, Iolanda Pensa (ed.). Geneva: Metisse Presse, 2017. Guelf, Fernand. Die urbane Revolution. Henri Lefèbvres Philosophie der globalen Verstädterung. Bielefeld: Transcript, 2010. Guelf, Fernand. “Kreativität in der urbanen Gesellschaft. Henri Lefebvres Projekt einer kulturellen Revolution” In: Von der Systemkritik zur gesellschaftlichen Transformation, Horst Müller (Hg.), 280–298. Norderstedt: BoD Verlag, 2010. Günzel, Stephan: Raum. Eine kulturwissenschaftliche Einführung. Bielefeld: Transcript, 2017. O’Kane, Chris. 2018, “Fetishistic Concrete Abstraction, Social Constitution and Social Domination in Henri Lefebvre’s Writings on Everyday Life, Cities and Space” Capital and Class 42 [forthcoming]. Rau, Susanne. “Rhythmusanalyse nach Lefebvre” In: Taktungen und Rhythmen: Raumzeitliche Perspektiven interdisziplinär, Sabine Schmolinsky, Diana Hitzke and Heiner Stahl (eds.). Berlin/Boston: de Gruyter, 2018 [forthcoming]. Rau, Susanne. Räume der Stadt. Eine Geschichte Lyons 1300–1800. Frankfurt: Campus, 2014. Rau, Susanne. “Raum und Religion. Eine Forschungsskizze” In: Topographien des Sakralen. Religion und Raumordnung in der Vormoderne, Susanne Rau and Gerd Schwerhoff (eds.), 10–37. München/Hamburg: Dölling und Galitz, 2008. Rau, Susanne. “The Urbanization of the Periphery. Spatio-Temporal History of Lyon since the Eighteenth Century” Historical Social Research 38:3 (2013): 150–175. Urbano, Tiziana. “Die sozialistische Neustadt. Sull’inospitalità delle periferie urbane della RDT” In: Requiescere Noctem. Forme e linguaggi dell’ospitalità. Studi per Domenico Mugnolo, Pasquale Gallo, Maurizio Pirro and Ulrike Reeg (eds.), 321–334. Milano: Mimesis, 2015.

Bibliographies on Lefebvre There are several extensive bibliographies on the oeuvre of Henri Lefebvre. The book of Müller-Schöll also contains a bibliography with secondary literature on Henri Lefebvre. Elden, Stuart. Understanding Lefebvre: Theory and the Possible. London: continuum, 2004, 257–262. Hess, Remi. Henri Lefebvre et I’aventure du siècle. Paris: A. M. Metailie, 1988, 334–345. Müller-Schöll, Ulrich. Das System und der Rest. Kritische Theorie in der Perspektive Henri Lefebvres. Mössingen-Talheim: Talheimer, 1999, 296–308. Shields, Rob. Lefebvre, Love and Struggle: Spatial Dialectics. London: Routledge, 1999, 190–204.