Althusser’s Dramaturgy and the Critique of Ideology
阿尔都塞的戏剧理论与意识形态批判

Editors’ note: The following text was originally given as the Roger B. Henkle Memorial Lecture at Brown University on October 7, 2013. It has been revised for publication in differences.
编者按：以下文本最初是在 2013 年 10 月 7 日于布朗大学举行的罗杰·B·亨克尔纪念讲座中给出的。经过修订，现发表在《差异》杂志上。

How should we explain that, in certain languages at least (notably English, Italian, and Spanish), a renewed interest is taking place in the works and ideas of Louis Althusser, a philosopher widely known as the “inventor” of the “structuralist” brand of Marxism in the 1960s and 1970s who died in 1990 but had already retreated from the public and intellectual scene by 1980, when, in a scandalous episode of criminal madness, he murdered his wife and was confined, at least for some time, in a mental hospital? A very simple reason, and I want to begin with this because it is also a way to acknowledge my debts, lies in the fact that in recent years, several scholars of various generations—some who knew Althusser personally or had met him, like Emilio de Ípola, others who knew him indirectly through common friends and professors, like Warren Montag and Vittorio Morfino, or still others who “simply” encountered him in the course of their investigations, like Judith Butler, Slavoj Žižek, and Mikko Lahtinen—have published an impressive number of commentaries and interpretations. These works deliver a new, and in some respects more exciting, picture of the author of Reading Capital than simply a contributor to the historical debates on dialectical materialism that are indeed very far from us today.¹ These new readings were to a large extent made possible by the fact that posthumous publication of Althusser’s writings has considerably added to the existing corpus, expanding his work in many different directions, making his relationship to theory and to politics appear a more complex one, and highlighting at the same time the continuities and the discontinuities between different “periods” of his activity. All this takes place at a conjuncture that I believe makes it possible to better understand what formed the convergent interests but also the deep fractures within the “philosophical season” of the 1960s in Europe. The time for learned academic commentary has come, no doubt, but unexpected turns of intellectual history, and political history in the broad sense, have also taken place, which have largely neutralized the effects of a philosophical reaction that—perhaps prematurely—proclaimed that we had better forget the old issues of structure and praxis, discourse and power, dialectics and genealogy, if we wanted to think in the present.
我们该如何解释，至少在某些语言中（尤其是英语、意大利语和西班牙语），对路易·阿尔都塞的作品和思想产生了新的兴趣？阿尔都塞是一位广为人知的“结构主义”马克思主义“发明者”，他在 20 世纪 60 年代和 70 年代享有盛名，于 1990 年去世，但早在 1980 年，即在一场令人震惊的犯罪疯狂事件中杀害了自己的妻子，并被至少暂时关押在精神病院之前，他已经从公众和学术界退隐。一个非常简单的原因，我想从这里开始，因为这也是一种承认我债务的方式，那就是近年来，几代学者——有的曾亲自认识阿尔都塞或与他见过面，如埃米利奥·德·伊波拉，有的通过共同的朋友和教授间接了解他，如沃伦·蒙塔格和维托里奥·莫尔菲诺，还有的“仅仅”在他们的研究中遇到了他，如朱迪思·巴特勒、斯拉沃热·齐泽克和米科·拉蒂宁——发表了许多令人印象深刻的评论和解读。 这些作品呈现了《资本论》作者的一个新形象，在某些方面比仅仅作为辩证唯物主义历史辩论的参与者更为激动人心，而这些辩论与我们今天相去甚远。这些新的解读在很大程度上得以实现，得益于阿尔都塞作品的遗著出版大大增加了现有文献，扩展了他的工作在许多不同方向，使他与理论和政治的关系显得更为复杂，同时突出了他活动不同“时期”之间的连续性和非连续性。所有这一切都发生在一个我认为有助于更好地理解形成了欧洲 20 世纪 60 年代“哲学季节”中汇聚利益但同时也存在深刻裂痕的交汇点上。 学术评论的时代已经到来，毫无疑问，但知识史和政治史（广义上）的意外转折也发生了，这些转折在很大程度上抵消了哲学反应的影响。这种反应——或许过于仓促——宣称，如果我们想在当下思考，最好是忘记结构与实践、话语与权力、辩证法与谱系等旧问题。

It is in this spirit that I want to offer a partially new description of Althusser’s quest for a critical concept of ideology, clearly one of the central aspects of his contribution to “theory” and the linchpin of his project of destabilizing Marxism from the inside. While a critique of ideology no doubt formed the core of the idea of “historical materialism,” Althusser always insisted that the concept Marxist theorists (and others) needed to achieve such a goal should be anything but the concept of “ideology” that Marx had used; it should be a different one if not an antithetic one. This is, of course, the old topos: for Marx, against Marx. It would account for only half of my title, and it is not in this general epistemological manner that I want to return to the issue in the current context.
在这个精神下，我想提供一个关于阿尔都塞对意识形态批判性概念的局部新描述，这无疑是他对“理论”贡献的核心方面，也是他试图从内部颠覆马克思主义项目的关键。虽然意识形态批判无疑构成了“历史唯物主义”思想的核心，但阿尔都塞始终坚持，马克思主义理论家（以及其他）为实现这一目标所需的概念绝不应该是马克思所使用的“意识形态”这一概念；如果不是对立的概念，也应该是不同的概念。这当然是老生常谈：对于马克思，反对马克思。这只能解释我标题的一半，而且我并不想以这种一般认识论的方式在当前背景下回到这个问题。

What strikes me in particular in recent commentaries on Althusser is the place, apparently disproportionate with the dimensions of the texts, that is now granted to some of Althusser’s writings about art, particularly theater and painting. These commentaries propose not that we read Althusser’s texts as applications of theory within a particular field (say aesthetics or culture), but rather that we view them as “analyzers,” theoretical dispositifs or machines constructed by Althusser to resolve theoretical problems and identify the objects of theory. This is probably not unique to him—remember in particular Lyotard’s use of Duchamp, or Deleuze’s use of Proust and Kafka, or Derrida’s of Artaud. But in his case, the reversal of the “normal” philosophical attitude is particularly striking because although his essays do not avoid a few considerations on art in general, its social and cognitive functions or its specific mode of being, they are in fact essentially descriptions of singular experiences resulting from an “encounter” with a work or a group of works, an “event” in other words, but from which general consequences are drawn for a much larger field. This proves particularly adapted (but also uneasy, from an epistemological standpoint) in the case of a reflection on the issue of ideology, ideological domination, and the “dominant ideology” because, in a symptomatic circularity, such a reflection requires both a description of the processes or procedures of subjection and subjectivation that form the essence of ideology and a “performative” gesture allowing for a “subject” to become located, as interpellating interpellator, within the ideological mechanism itself in order to reveal its coherence and insecurity. This is, Althusser seems to suggest, something made possible not by art in general, as an institution or a cultural phenomenon, but only by specific works of art in specific circumstances.
近期对阿尔都塞的评论中，特别引起我注意的是，在阿尔都塞关于艺术（尤其是戏剧和绘画）的一些著作中，所赋予的地位似乎与文本的规模不成比例。这些评论提出，我们不应将阿尔都塞的文本视为特定领域（如美学或文化）理论应用的体现，而应将其视为阿尔都塞构建的“分析器”、理论装置或机器，用以解决理论问题并确定理论的对象。这或许并非仅限于他——特别是要记住利奥塔对杜尚的使用，或德勒兹对普鲁斯特和卡夫卡的使用，或德里达对阿尔托的使用。但在他的情况下，这种“正常”哲学态度的逆转尤其引人注目，因为尽管他的论文并未回避对艺术的一般性考虑，如其社会和认知功能或其特定的存在方式，但它们实际上本质上是对由“遭遇”一部作品或一组作品、换句话说，一个“事件”而产生的独特经验的描述，但从中为更广泛的领域得出了一般性的结论。 这特别适用于对意识形态、意识形态统治和“主导意识形态”问题的反思（但从认识论的角度来看，这也令人不安），因为在一种症候性的循环中，这种反思既需要描述构成意识形态本质的服从和主体化过程或程序，又需要一种“表演性”的行为，使“主体”能够在意识形态机制内部定位，作为召唤者召唤，以便揭示其一致性和不安全性。阿尔都塞似乎暗示，这并非一般意义上的艺术所能实现，作为制度或文化现象，而只有在特定情况下，特定的艺术作品才能实现这一点。

I can readily mention two major examples, both drawn from essays written in the same crucial years between 1961 and 1965, where what would become known as “Althusserianism” was taking shape. The first is an essay from 1965–66 on the canvases of Althusser’s friend, the Italian painter Leonardo Cremonini, called “Cremonini, Painter of the Abstract,” to which I will, regretfully, make only a quick reference here.² The second (chronologically first) is an essay (first published in 1962 and included as a chapter in For Marx in 1965) on a performance by the Piccolo Teatro di Milano in Paris in July 1962 with the title “The ‘Piccolo Teatro’: Bertolazzi and Brecht. Notes on a Materialist Theater.” I had once somewhat blindly remarked, when asked to write a preface for the new edition of Althusser’s Pour Marx in 1996, that this essay formed the “geometrical and theoretical center” of the book, although it was never acknowledged and treated as such (“Avant-propos” viii). But this is no longer the case, since fascinating commentaries have been produced by, in particular, Banu Bargu, Marc-Vincent Howlett, Warren Montag, and Guillaume Sibertin-Blanc.³ It is from the Piccolo Teatro essay that I want to start again in order to sketch a more general problematic, or rather an aporetic trajectory following an example provided by Althusser himself in his essay on Rousseau’s Social Contract, a trajectory in which, through successive décalages, he moves away from a particular articulation of theater, politics, and ideology toward a different one. From the Piccolo essay, I will draw the idea that theater—not theater in general, but, as he was keen to insist in a subsequent commentary called “On Brecht and Marx,” a specific practice of theater illustrated by Giorgio Strehler and his productions at the Piccolo Teatro—represented for Althusser not only an effective critique of ideology, particularly the dominant “humanist” ideology of bourgeois society, but also an alternative way of understanding the structure of ideological relations, compared to the scientific one otherwise advocated in his works as an “epistemological break” with theoretical humanism. From there, I will begin exploring the hypothesis that, in fact, the intrinsic relationship between the structure of ideological processes and the dispositifs of theatrical representation was displaced to a new field when, immediately after 1968, Althusser embarked on the project of sketching a “general theory” of ideologies, the best-known result of which is the essay from 1970, “Ideology and Ideological State Apparatuses,” where the central notion (which is also a metaphor) is “interpellation.”⁴ I will also suggest, through recourse to the posthumous book Machiavelli and Us, the manuscript of which was essentially completed in the years immediately following, that Althusser was not unaware of the aporias of his model of ideological interpellation, particularly when considered from the point of view of a revolutionary politics. Surprisingly, the way he sought to overcome the aporias was through a new philosophical detour: this time not through Spinoza but through Machiavelli in the form of a definition of the “political practice of the Prince” as “ideological policy” whose principal instrument is a staging or mise-en-scène of his own passions. Taken together, I suggest that these two constructions form a dramaturgic model of the political function and political transformation of ideology.
我可以轻易地提到两个主要例子，这两个例子都来自 1961 年至 1965 年间的同一关键年份所写的论文，那时所谓的“阿尔都塞主义”正在形成。第一个是 1965-66 年关于阿尔都塞的朋友、意大利画家莱昂纳多·克雷莫尼尼的画布的论文，题为“克雷莫尼尼，抽象画家”，在这里我将遗憾地仅作简要提及。第二个（按时间顺序排列）是一篇论文（首次发表于 1962 年，并于 1965 年作为《马克思论》的一章发表），关于 1962 年 7 月在巴黎举行的米兰小剧院的表演，标题为“‘小剧院’：贝托拉齐和布莱希特。关于物质主义戏剧的笔记。”我曾于 1996 年被要求为阿尔都塞的《马克思论》新版本撰写前言时，有些盲目地评论说，这篇论文构成了这本书的“几何和理论中心”，尽管它从未被认可并被视为如此（“前言”第 viii 页）。但这种情况已经不再，因为 Banu Bargu、Marc-Vincent Howlett、Warren Montag 和 Guillaume Sibertin-Blanc 等人已经产生了迷人的评论。 从《小剧院》论文开始，我想再次勾勒出一个更普遍的问题，或者说是一个遵循阿尔都塞在其关于卢梭《社会契约论》论文中提供的例子的阿波罗式轨迹，这样一个轨迹中，通过连续的错位，他逐渐远离了特定的戏剧、政治和意识形态的结合，转向另一种结合。从《小剧院》论文中，我将提取出这样一个观点：戏剧——不是一般意义上的戏剧，而是在他随后的评论《论布莱希特与马克思》中强调的具体戏剧实践，由乔治奥·斯特雷勒及其在小剧院的演出所体现——对于阿尔都塞来说，不仅代表了对意识形态的有效批判，尤其是对资产阶级社会占主导地位的“人文主义”意识形态的批判，而且也是一种理解意识形态关系结构的替代方式，与他在作品中倡导的作为与理论人文主义“认识论断裂”的科学方式相比。 从那时起，我将开始探讨这样一个假设：事实上，意识形态过程的结构与戏剧表现装置之间的内在关系，在 1968 年之后，阿尔都塞着手绘制“意识形态的一般理论”项目时，被转移到了一个新的领域。其中最著名的成果是 1970 年的论文《意识形态与意识形态国家机器》，其核心概念（也是一种隐喻）是“召唤”。通过引用阿尔都塞的遗著《马基雅维利与我们》，该书的草稿在随后的几年里基本完成，我将提出，阿尔都塞并非不知道他的意识形态召唤模型中的悖论，尤其是从革命政治的角度来看。令人惊讶的是，他试图克服这些悖论的方式是通过一种新的哲学迂回：这次不是通过斯宾诺莎，而是通过马基雅维利，以“君主的政治实践”作为“意识形态政策”的定义，其主要工具是他自己的激情的舞台或 mise-en-scène。 综合考虑，我建议这两个结构构成了意识形态的政治功能和政治变革的戏剧模型。

“Je me retourne. . .”: The Interpellation from Milan
我转身……：“米兰的召唤”

I cannot summarize in full detail Althusser’s essay on the Piccolo Teatro. That could be useful, but it would also be complicated because it would add a third layer of narration to what is already, at least in part, a description of the experience of a production that was touring Europe after being inaugurated in the city of Milan. It should be recalled that, in the postwar period in Italy, France, Britain, and Germany, theater was a popular art mixing high cultural and, most of the time, political ambitions with a genuine appeal not only to the bourgeois elites but to the educated middle classes and the politically motivated aristocracy of the working class. This was also a moment of heightened ideological passions, marked not only by the vicissitudes of the Cold War and the interrupted “de-Stalinization” of the Communist bloc but also by the dramatic developments of the colonial wars of liberation. Giorgio Strehler, an Italian director of Italian-Austrian origin who had founded Il Piccolo Teatro di Milano just after the war, was already considered one of the greatest figures of European theater. Although not officially a “Brechtian,” he had offered remarkable performances of some of Brecht’s plays, in particular a famous Life of Galileo. In Paris in 1962, he presented an adaptation of a relatively obscure “realist” Italian playwright from the late nineteenth century, Carlo Bertolazzi’s El nost Milan, which described rather than properly narrated the story of a poor young girl from the slums who, after being raped by some scoundrel subsequently murdered by her loving father, abandons the father when he is about to be jailed, apparently to look for money in the “real” world, that is, to become a prostitute. The spectacle had been scorned as bad melodrama by the critics, but Althusser’s lengthy and elaborate interpretation rehabilitated it and, by the same token, played an important role in aesthetic discussions of the time about realism, critique, and irony in art (this being also the period when the avant-garde theater of the “absurd” with Beckett and Ionesco was blossoming in France). Althusser and Strehler became friends and encountered one another in Italy in the following years, together with Strehler’s close associate, Paolo Grassi.
我无法详细总结阿尔图塞关于《小剧院》的论文。这可能是有用的，但也会很复杂，因为它会在已经至少部分是关于一个在欧洲巡演、在米兰市开幕的演出的体验描述上增加第三层叙述。应该记住，在战后意大利、法国、英国和德国，戏剧是一种流行的艺术，它将高雅文化与，大多数时候，政治抱负相结合，不仅对资产阶级精英有吸引力，而且对受过教育的中产阶级和有政治动机的工人阶级贵族也有吸引力。这也是一个意识形态激情高涨的时刻，不仅标志着冷战的风云变幻和共产主义阵营中断的“去斯大林化”，而且还标志着殖民解放战争的戏剧性发展。吉奥吉奥·斯特雷勒，一位意大利裔奥地利导演，在战后不久就创立了米兰的小剧院，当时已经被认为是欧洲戏剧界最伟大的人物之一。 尽管他并非正式的“布莱希特派”，但他对布莱希特的一些戏剧进行了令人瞩目的演绎，尤其是著名的《伽利略的一生》。1962 年在巴黎，他改编了一位相对鲜为人知的 19 世纪末意大利“现实主义”剧作家卡洛·贝尔托拉齐的《我们的米兰》，这部作品描述了一个来自贫民窟的贫穷年轻女孩的故事，而不是正确地叙述这个故事，这个女孩在被一些流氓强奸后被她深爱的父亲杀害，当她即将被监禁时，她抛弃了父亲，显然是为了在“现实”世界中寻找金钱，即成为妓女。这部作品曾被评论家嘲笑为糟糕的情节剧，但阿尔都塞的漫长而详尽的解读使其得到恢复，并且，同样地，在当时的艺术美学讨论中关于现实主义、批判和讽刺扮演了重要角色（这也是贝克特和尤内斯库的“荒诞派”前卫戏剧在法国盛开的时期）。阿尔都塞和斯特雷勒成为了朋友，在接下来的几年里，他们在意大利相遇，还有斯特雷勒的亲密伙伴保罗·格拉西。

Althusser’s article consists of two parts of roughly equal length. The first is devoted to a description of the play, highlighting the paradoxes of a succession of three acts, each of which reproduces essentially the same dramaturgy, by juxtaposing rather than articulating two kinds of pictures with different visual content and rhythm: on the one side, a static and neutral presentation of the immobile, desperate, and silent world of the subproletarians, who expect nothing because nothing can happen in their lives, neither work nor struggles nor history; on the other side, taking place in the margins of this world of misery and resignation, or as Althusser writes (retrieving an old category of classical theater), “in the wings” (à la cantonade) (“‘Piccolo’” 138), the dramatic moments of conflict between the idealist generosity of the father and the cynicism of the rapist, with whom the daughter will side (albeit after his death), in the form of a spectacular transgression of human feelings, which is also shown onstage as an escape from the night of impotent dreams into the risky violence of the day: “Erect, Nina goes out into the daylight” (qtd. in Althusser, “‘Piccolo’” 133). With this description goes a double argument: First, that the critics have been unable to perceive the real effect of the production, which is not to endorse a melodramatic perception of the life of the poor, but to radically criticize the melodramatic form of consciousness by juxtaposing it optically, but without explicit interaction, with the description of the existence (or conditions of existence) of which, in Marx’s words, it is but the ideological aroma. Second, that the critical effect of the play as restructured and interpreted by Strehler and its emotional capacity to affect the spectators both arise from what Althusser calls an immanent or latent structure of the dissociation of times, experiences, and imaginaries, which is not pedagogically explained to the spectators but is inherent in the antithetic visions of the silent crowds and the agitated protagonists and is communicated to the audience almost physically by virtue of the discrepancy of their respective rhythms and the heterogeneity of their actions.
阿尔都塞的文章分为两部分，篇幅大致相等。第一部分致力于对戏剧的描述，突出了三部曲的悖论，每一部都重复了基本相同的戏剧结构，通过并置而非阐述两种不同视觉内容和节奏的图画：一方面，是对静止、绝望和沉默的底层无产阶级世界的静态和中立展示，他们因为生活中不可能发生任何事情而无所期待，无论是工作、斗争还是历史；另一方面，发生在这一苦难和顺从世界的边缘，或者如阿尔都塞所写（引用古典戏剧的一个旧范畴），“幕后”（类似于 cantonade）（“‘Piccolo’” 138），是父亲理想主义慷慨与强奸者愤世嫉俗之间的冲突戏剧时刻，后者女儿将站在他一边（尽管在他死后），以人类情感的壮观越界形式展现，这也被舞台上展示为从无能梦想之夜逃入危险的白天暴力：“挺立着，妮娜走出了日光”（qtd. in Althusser，“‘Piccolo’” 133）。 与这种描述相伴的是双重论点：首先，批评家们未能感知到生产的真正效果，这并非是支持对穷人生活的戏剧化感知，而是通过直观地并列，但又不进行明确互动，来根本性地批评这种戏剧化意识形式，这种形式，用马克思的话来说，不过是意识形态的香气。其次，斯特雷勒重新构建和诠释的戏剧的批判效果及其影响观众的情感能力，都源于阿尔都塞所说的内在或潜在的时间、经验和想象力的分离结构，这种结构并非以教育方式向观众解释，而是内在地体现在沉默的群众和激动的主人公的对立视野中，并且几乎通过他们各自节奏的差异和行为的异质性，几乎以物理方式传达给观众。

In the second part of his article, Althusser uses the same idea of the latent heterogeneous structure—where the conflict endowed with a critical and political meaning is represented by the paradoxical display of a “non-relationship that is the relationship”—to propose a rectified interpretation of the critical function of Brecht’s “epic theater.”⁵ He argues that in Brecht’s major plays, particularly Mother Courage and The Life of Galileo, the critical effect does not proceed from a psychological phenomenon, which would be the “distanciation” of the spectator from the spectacle (“distanciation” being the word into which Brecht’s Verfremdungseffekt, literally, “effect of estrangement,” was rendered in French), allowing us to break our “identification” with the characters in the play in order to be able to criticize politically the society of which they are the products and the victims. Rather, the critical effect would come from the fact that the same kind of latent structure, a structure of disjunction or even disruption of consciousness, is incorporated in the scenario, the distribution of characters, situations, and actions, and therefore in the performance itself. It is this shift from psychology to structure, from intentionality to a latent dissociation of consciousness, that should be not only described but actively performed by the theater, giving rise to a critique of ideology that consists not in arguing discursively against its subjection to power or domination, but in making paradoxically “visible” or “perceptible” what is in principle invisible, namely, ideology’s grip on the consciousnesses of its subjects (as well as the limits of this grip in certain situations of exception). This is what Althusser called the emergence of a materialist theater, where “materialist” has the sense of destitute of ideology. Note that the idea is very similar to what, in “Cremonini, Painter of the Abstract,” Althusser also attributes to certain encounters with painting, except that—in the case of Cremonini—painting makes it (relatively) easier to understand what it means to display the invisible (or the relationship of subjects to their imaginary conditions of existence) because the alienated character of this invisible relationship is allegorically displayed in the uncanny redoubling of mirrors, or the mirror-effect of inhuman pictures of the human. In the case of Strehler’s theater, however, it is the active dimension of the critique that is (relatively) easier to understand, or the transition from passivity to activity, from powerlessness to empowerment, because a certain practice of the theater appears as a “machinery” or “dispositive” that has the power to attract the spectator’s consciousness into its fictitious “world” only to eject her into the real world after it has been dislocated by the machine itself. The power of fiction is to dismantle or invert the imaginary in order to allow for the acknowledgment of the real and to produce a “real effect.”
在文章的第二部分，阿尔都塞运用了相同的概念——潜在的异质结构——其中具有批判性和政治意义的冲突通过“非关系即关系”的悖论性展示来体现，以此提出对布莱希特的“史诗剧场”批判功能的修正性解释。他认为，在布莱希特的主要作品中，尤其是《母鸡》和《伽利略的一生》，批判效果并非来自心理现象，即观众与表演的“疏离”（“疏离”一词是布莱希特将德语中的 Verfremdungseffekt，即“疏离效果”翻译成法语时的用词），使我们能够打破与剧中角色的“认同”，以便能够从政治上批判这些角色所产生和受害的社会。相反，批判效果源于同样的潜在结构，即分离或甚至意识中断的结构，被纳入剧本、角色分配、情境和行动中，因此也在表演本身中。 这种从心理学转向结构，从意向性转向意识的潜在分离的转变，不仅应该被描述，而且应该由戏剧积极实践，从而产生一种对意识形态的批判，这种批判不是通过论证来反对其受权力或支配，而是在矛盾中“可见”或“可感知”原本不可见的东西，即意识形态对其主体的意识（以及在某些例外情况中这种控制的极限）。这就是阿尔都塞所说的唯物主义戏剧的出现，其中“唯物主义”意味着缺乏意识形态。请注意，这个想法与阿尔都塞在《克雷莫尼尼，抽象画家》中归因于某些与绘画的遭遇的想法非常相似，只是在克雷莫尼尼的情况下——绘画使得（相对）更容易理解展示不可见之物（或主体与其想象的存在条件之间的关系）意味着什么，因为这种不可见关系的异化性质在镜子的奇特重复中或非人化的肖像画中得到了寓言式的展示。 然而，在斯特雷勒的戏剧中，相对而言，批判的积极维度更容易理解，或者说从被动到主动、从无能为力到赋权的过程，因为戏剧的某种实践表现为一种“机器”或“装置”，它有能力将观众的意识吸引到其虚构的“世界”中，然后再将其抛回到现实世界，因为机器本身已经将其颠覆。虚构的力量在于解构或颠倒想象，以便承认现实并产生“真实效果”。

At this point, it would, of course, be interesting to discuss several questions of interpretation and criticism that are linked to the “dialectical” models between which Althusser is moving. An important point regards the exact nature of his relationship to the Brechtian doctrine of epic theater. This point is all the more intriguing because in a later text, “On Brecht and Marx,” which remained unfinished but was published posthumously, Althusser drew an explicit parallel between Brecht’s practice of theater and Marx’s practice of philosophy, arguing that they both wanted not to overcome theater or philosophy but to introduce a dislocation or a “play,” a disjointedness or out-of-jointedness, in the relationship between their constitutive elements that was the condition for their being turned around against the effects of the dominant ideology to which, in a sense, they still belonged.⁶ Put briefly, it seems to me that Althusser’s intention was to use the lessons he would draw from Strehler’s spectacle not only as a critical instrument against the dominant interpretation of Brecht’s theater as “critical theater” but against Brecht’s own consciousness of the critical mainspring of his theater, insisting in particular on techniques of distanciation in the play of the actors. Much more important, of course, are the references to a system of Freudian concepts, even if freely used, which take their departure from the allusion to a “scenic” structure of the unconscious, where, according to Freud in The Interpretation of Dreams, “contradiction is ignored,” which Althusser translates as “the opposites are simultaneously given” or “displayed” as if theater, or something of the theatrical machine, would bring into the open the—normally imperceptible—logic of the psychic conflict. This holds as well for the rather insistent—but never fully admitted—analogy between the process of the dissociation of ideological consciousness produced by the theater and a psychoanalytic cure, either a Freudian re-enactment of the libidinal fixations that allows their disentanglement or, even better, a Lacanian “crossing of the fantasy” (traversée du fantasme) that, during the same period, as indicated by Safouan, Lacan was giving as the formula explaining what it means to achieve the goals of a cure. But probably the most interesting reference is to Hegel, whose dialectics of consciousness and self-consciousness in the Phenomenology is omnipresent in Althusser’s text, where it nevertheless appears at the same time as both instrument and object of the critique. It is as if Althusser had wanted to explain that theater, by virtue of its spatial conversion of the structures of time and the shifting positions it assigns to its heterogeneous subjects, the actors and the spectators, paradoxically makes it possible to materialize the impossible, namely, the presentation of what Hegel called “the back of consciousness,” or the scene on which its limitations and distortions are defined but also subject to refutation. From this point of view, Althusser’s essay is an astonishing counter-Hegelian reformulation of Hegel himself.
在这个阶段，当然很有趣的是讨论几个与阿尔都塞在“辩证”模式之间移动相关的解释和批评问题。一个重要的问题是关于他与布莱希特史诗戏剧理论的准确关系。这一点尤其引人入胜，因为在后来的文本《论布莱希特与马克思》中，尽管该文本未完成但死后发表，阿尔都塞明确地将布莱希特的戏剧实践与马克思的哲学实践进行了平行比较，认为他们都不想超越戏剧或哲学，而是引入一种错位或“游戏”，一种不连贯或脱节，这是他们构成要素之间被转变为对抗主导意识形态条件的前提，而他们在某种程度上仍然属于这种意识形态。 简而言之，在我看来，阿尔都塞的意图是利用他从斯特雷勒的表演中汲取的教训，不仅作为批判布勒东戏剧被解读为“批判性戏剧”的批判工具，而且作为批判布勒东自己对戏剧批判动力的自我意识，特别是在演员表演中强调距离化技巧。当然，更重要的是对弗洛伊德概念体系的引用，即使这些引用是自由使用的，它们始于对无意识“场景”结构的暗示，根据弗洛伊德在《梦的解析》中的观点，“矛盾被忽视”，阿尔都塞将其翻译为“对立面同时呈现”或“展示”，仿佛戏剧，或者某种戏剧机器，会将通常难以察觉的心理冲突的逻辑公之于众。 这一观点同样适用于剧院产生的意识形态意识解离过程与精神分析治疗之间的强烈类比——这种类比从未完全被承认。无论是弗洛伊德对性欲固着点的重演，允许其解开，还是更好的拉康式的“幻想跨越”（traversée du fantasme），正如萨福安所指出的，拉康在同一时期将其作为解释实现治疗目标含义的公式的例子。但可能最有趣的参考是黑格尔，其《现象学》中关于意识和自我意识的辩证法在阿尔都塞的文本中无处不在，尽管如此，它同时作为批判的工具和对象出现。 它似乎表明，阿尔都塞想要解释说，剧院通过其将时间结构的空间转换以及赋予其异质主体——演员和观众——不断变化的位置，悖论性地使得实现不可能之事成为可能，即呈现黑格尔所说的“意识的背面”，或其局限性和扭曲被定义但同时也受到反驳的场景。从这个角度来看，阿尔都塞的论文是对黑格尔本人的惊人反黑格尔式重构。

Finally, although this account of Althusser’s argument is truncated, it allows us, I believe, to understand a central point of Althusser’s critique of ideology, which remains true throughout his successive attempts with different models and from which important consequences derive. This is the fact that what a “materialist” experience of theater (which is the experience of a “materialist” theatrical practice) provides is not so much a “representation” of the ideological phenomenon of misrecognition of the social reality (particularly class antagonisms), to which a materialist or scientific or communist “critical” consciousness, awakened among the audience in Brechtian fashion, could be opposed. But it is, rather, a presentation on the stage (in short, a staging) of the singular event or moment in which a “distanciation” (or “estrangement”) with respect to recognition—therefore with the basic mechanism of ideological conviction or belief or subjection—is taking place as an action or a performance. In turn, the presentation of this action calls for a very special sort of participation, provided it is internally supported by the latent structure that attracts all the subjects and divides each of them.
最后，尽管对阿尔都塞论证的描述被截断，但我认为这使我们能够理解阿尔都塞对意识形态批判的核心观点，这一观点贯穿于他使用不同模型的一系列尝试中，并由此产生了重要后果。这是这样一个事实：一种“唯物主义”的戏剧体验（即“唯物主义”戏剧实践的经验）所提供的并非是对社会现实（尤其是阶级对抗）的意识形态现象“误认”的“表现”，这种“误认”可以通过在布莱希特风格中唤醒观众中的唯物主义或科学或共产主义的“批判”意识来对抗。相反，它是在舞台上（简而言之，是舞台呈现）对某个单一事件或时刻的展示，其中存在着对认识——因此是对意识形态信念或信仰或服从的基本机制的——“疏远”（或“异化”）作为行动或表演正在进行。 相应地，这一行为的呈现需要一种非常特殊的参与方式，前提是它得到吸引所有主体并分别划分每个主体的潜在结构的内部支持。

Here we may remember that linguistic factors play a role: in French, représentation names both what the English call a “representation” and what they call a “performance” or a production (for a spectacle). But Althusser, following the Hegelian-Marxian terminology, is also thinking of the difference between a Vorstellung, which is cognitive and psychological, and a Darstellung, which is dialectical and theatrical. He suggests that the machine that makes the ideological fabric visible is also the one that forces a subject called a spectator to break with its conformism, if only momentarily or instantaneously. What derives from this is a strategic shift in the understanding of critique. It is not, in fact, recognition, whether as acceptation of a belief or authority or as mimetic association with others, that is built on the basis of some “misrecognition” of reality, but just the reverse: misrecognition is made possible by the deep structure of recognition, the “specular” process taking place in the back of consciousness that is consciousness itself. Therefore, to break with the contents of the dominant ideology, or to liberate oneself from its power, from the “stories” that it tells us and has us tell ourselves permanently, always presupposes a capacity to disrupt recognition, in other words, one’s identity. To put it more clearly, it presupposes situations in which such a capacity is prompted, if not forced. But, according to Althusser’s description of his experience in the audience of Strehler’s production, “theater” is a social and aesthetic machine that not only shows how such a disruption or dislocation can happen but may make it happen. And this is because it duplicates (or iterates) the representation of the imaginary in a manner that may make it impossible to recompose. Such a theater, of course, is not the classical theater where, according to Althusser (who is, nevertheless, forced immediately to allow for “exceptions,” mentioning Shakespeare and Molière), the relationship between stage and audience is precisely a specular one, or one of ideological recognition, with the stage displaying for the audience its own idealized identity; and it is also not exactly the Brechtian “epic theater,” where it is supposed that the spectacle and the critical consciousness are divorced, repelling instead of attracting each other. Rather, it seems to be a disposition of several “scenes” on the stage (in French, it would be a single word: des scènes sur la scène) or, we might say, a “double installation,” whereby the spectator is brought on the scene in order for the scene to intrude into the consciousness of the spectator and produce aftereffects in her life. This is again the idea, or the metaphor, of a “distanciation” that is also a “dislocation,” which becomes a “displacement,” displacing “agency” as such or displacing the agents in order to displace their actions. We may call this the “play” in the mechanism or the farewell to identity and stability.
在这里，我们可以记住，语言因素起着作用：在法语中，représentation 一词既指英语中的“representation”，也指“performance”或“production”（指一场表演）。但阿尔都塞遵循黑格尔-马克思主义术语，也在思考 Vorstelung（认知和心理的）与 Darstellung（辩证和戏剧的）之间的区别。他提出，使意识形态结构可见的机器也是迫使一个被称为观众的主体暂时或瞬间打破其同质性的机器。由此产生的是对批判理解的战略性转变。实际上，并不是基于对现实的某些“误认”的认识，无论是作为对信仰或权威的接受，还是作为与其他人的模仿性联系，而是相反：误认是由认识的深层结构、在意识背后进行的“镜像”过程本身所可能产生的。 因此，要打破主导意识形态的内容，或从其力量中解放出来，从它向我们讲述并让我们永久讲述的“故事”中解放出来，始终需要一种颠覆认知的能力，换句话说，就是颠覆自己的身份。更明确地说，它预设了这样的能力被激发，如果不是被强迫。但是，根据阿尔都塞对他在斯特雷勒作品观众中的经历的描述，“戏剧”是一种社会和美学机器，它不仅展示了这种颠覆或错位是如何发生的，而且可能使之发生。这是因为它以可能使其无法重新组合的方式复制（或迭代）了想象的表征。 这样的剧院，当然不是阿尔都塞所说的经典剧院，在那里，舞台与观众的关系是精确的镜像关系，或者是一种意识形态的认同，舞台向观众展示其理想化的身份；它也不是布莱希特的“史诗剧院”，在那里，人们认为 spectacle 和批判意识是分离的，相互排斥而不是相互吸引。相反，这似乎是在舞台上安排了几个“场景”（在法语中，这可以是一个单词：des scènes sur la scène）或者，我们可以说，是一种“双重装置”，通过这种装置，观众被带入场景，以便场景侵入观众的意识，并在其生活中产生后续影响。这又是“距离”的概念，或者说是“错位”，它变成了一种“位移”，将“代理”本身或代理者的行动进行位移。我们可以称之为机制中的“游戏”或是对身份和稳定的告别。

No doubt, there is something in Althusser’s text at the same time fascinating and enigmatic that various readers have tried to express (as I did myself). It is as if he were not just describing a mechanism or a process but recalling an experience, an interpellation: not the interpellation of (by) ideology, as he would later theorize, but the interpellation out of ideology, by “the real,” as it were, which is presented or embodied on the stage by the character called Nina and her opposition to the crowd. This is expressed in a quick but lyrical phrase at the end: “Je me retourne” (152). I turn back or I look back. There is no rupture with ideology that is not accomplished in the first person, that is, as a subject, denoting a conversion in both the physical and the spiritual sense. But this takes place because theater forces a subject to identify in a contradictory manner, simultaneously, with antithetic “others” who nevertheless appear the same as oneself: in this case, “we,” who eat “the same bread” and share “the same history” as the poor on the stage, and “she,” the rebel whose instant rage against the myths of reconciliation we come to adopt. This is why Althusser is so insistent on the “unresolved alterity” that lies at the heart of such a dramaturgy, but also why he remains attached, more than ever, to the dramatic image provided by Hegel—that of a consciousness fatefully turned against itself: “Hegel was right: [the hero’s] destiny was consciousness of himself as of an enemy” (147).
无疑，阿尔都塞的文本中同时存在着令人着迷和神秘的某种东西，各种读者都试图表达出来（包括我自己）。仿佛他不仅仅是在描述一种机制或过程，而是在回忆一种经历，一种召唤：不是后来他所理论化的那种由（或对）意识形态的召唤，而是由“现实”所引发的召唤，这种“现实”通过被称为妮娜的角色及其对人群的反对在舞台上呈现或体现出来。这在一句话中得到了快速而抒情的表达：“Je me retourne”（第 152 页）。我转身或我回顾。没有在第一人称中完成的与意识形态的断裂，也就是说，作为一个主体，既在物质上又在精神上表示了一种转变。但这是因为戏剧迫使主体以矛盾的方式同时与对立的“他人”认同，尽管他们看起来与自己相同：在这种情况下，“我们”，与舞台上的穷人吃“同样的面包”并分享“同样的历史”，以及“她”，那个对和解神话的瞬间愤怒，我们最终采纳了她的观点。 这就是为什么阿尔都塞如此强调这种戏剧性结构核心中的“未解决的异质性”，但同时也让他比以往任何时候都更加依恋于黑格尔提供的戏剧形象——即一种命运般地转向自身的意识：“黑格尔是对的：[英雄的]命运就是将自己视为敌人的意识”（147）。

Moses or Caesar: Politics of Ideology
摩西或凯撒：意识形态政治

What I want to offer now is not exactly another general presentation of the topic of subject-formation in Althusser’s well-known essay “Ideology and Ideological State Apparatuses,” which remains, perhaps, of all his contributions to critical theory, the most frequently discussed and referred to in our academic programs. This essay has an interesting characteristic: although its internal aporias, or perhaps its weaknesses, are repeatedly indicated, the general theme of the essay, and particularly the specific “performative” effect to which Althusser attributed the name “interpellation,” keeps returning in reflections that combine the two issues covered, in French as well as English and other “Latin” languages (English being, in this case, also a Latin language) by such terms as “subjection” and “subjectivation.” This is what I have called elsewhere the great historical wordplay, or portmanteau word of European transcendental philosophy, namely, the conjunction of self-reference, or identification of the subject, and subjection to power or authority, therefore a phenomenon of constitutive domination (Balibar, “Citizen”).
我现在要提供的不完全是对阿尔都塞著名论文《意识形态与意识形态国家机器》中关于主题形成话题的另一种一般性介绍，这篇论文可能是他在批判理论方面的所有贡献中最常被讨论和引用的。这篇文章有一个有趣的特点：尽管其内部悖论或弱点被反复指出，但文章的主题，尤其是阿尔都塞赋予“召唤”这一名称的特定“表演性”效果，在结合两个议题的反思中不断出现，这些反思在法语以及英语和其他“拉丁”语言（在这种情况下，英语也是一种拉丁语言）中，通过诸如“服从”和“主体化”等术语进行。这就是我在其他地方所说的伟大历史文字游戏，或欧洲先验哲学的混合词，即自我参照或主体的认同与对权力或权威的服从的结合，因此是一种构成性支配的现象（巴利巴尔，《公民》）。

Among the many commentaries, of course, I single out Judith Butler’s detailed discussion in The Psychic Life of Power, where Althusser’s notion of interpellation occupies the whole of chapter 4 and returns in other chapters, counterposing Freud and Foucault.⁷ I do this for two reasons: the first is that Butler particularly emphasizes the circular character of the mechanism, or the ideal model of subject-formation, which is subsumed by Althusser under the formula “Ideology interpellates individuals as (or perhaps better: into) subjects.” The circle comes from the fact that within the field that Althusser is describing there is no way to identify what “individuals” are, if not as already existing subjects, so that the effect presupposes its own result. This is immediately illustrated in the allegorical scene through which Althusser introduces his notion, that of an individual hailed in a street, from behind, by a police officer who simply calls “Hey, you there!,” immediately prompting a reaction from the individual who turns back or looks back (il se retourne) as if he were already certain that he is exactly the person interpellated; this would show that the elementary mechanism of recognition, associated with an originary guilt, is presupposed by the constitution of ideology. But interestingly, Butler does not see this as a weakness of the model per se; on the contrary, she interprets it—rightly in my opinion—as an indication of the fact that Althusser is assuming the circularity, describing a retroactive effect and more generally analyzing what she calls a tropological space, playing on two meanings of the word trope: First, as a rhetorical figure or an effect of discourse but also etymologically a conversion or an action of turning oneself—in this case toward the figure that one was already but that was located, so to speak, behind one’s back. The second is that, having assumed a circularity beyond what Althusser himself recognizes, Butler feels able to suggest a way out of what most readers have perceived as the utterly deterministic and for that reason also fatalistic character of Althusser’s account of subject formation, or recognition of the subject that one was already, which seems to allow for no margin of interpretation, no line of escape—except for a tragic notation in passing, where Althusser refers to the fact that there are “bad subjects” who refuse to turn around, to answer the call of the subjecting authority, at the risk, in fact, of their lives or their mental integrity. Butler’s solution, as we know, is based on the idea that if a trope or a discursive gesture needs to be actually enacted and reiterated again and again to assert its power (as Althusser indicates a little later by provocatively borrowing from Pascal a “materialist” model of the creation of belief through the infinite reiteration of ritual gestures of subjection in the practice of prayer, whether physical or mental), this reiteration by its very nature also involves a possibility of disturbance or trouble (subject trouble, as it were), even the possibility of a reversal that she calls “counter-interpellation.”⁸
在众多评论中，当然，我特别指出 Judith Butler 在《权力的心理生活》中的详细讨论，其中阿尔都塞的“召唤”概念占据了第四章的全部内容，并在其他章节中反复出现，对比了弗洛伊德和福柯。我这样做有两个原因：第一个原因是 Butler 特别强调了机制的循环性，或者说主体形成的理想模型，阿尔都塞将其概括为“意识形态将个体召唤为（或者也许更好：进入）主体。”这个循环来自于阿尔都塞所描述的领域中，如果不将个体视为已经存在的主体，就无法确定“个体”是什么，因此效果预设了其自身的后果。 这立即在阿图塞通过寓言场景引入其概念的情景中得到体现，即一个警察从背后在街上高呼“喂，你！”来召唤一个人，这个人立刻回头或转身（il se retourne），仿佛他已经确信自己就是被召唤的人；这表明与原罪相关的识别的基本机制是意识形态构成的前提。但有趣的是，巴特勒并没有将这一点视为该模型本身的弱点；相反，她正确地（在我看来）将其解释为阿图塞假设了循环性，描述了一种追溯效应，更普遍地分析了她所说的修辞空间，利用了“修辞”一词的两个含义：首先，作为一种修辞手法或话语效果，但也是从词源学上的一种转换或转身的行为——在这种情况下，转向那个已经存在但位于自己背后的人物。 第二个方面是，在超越了阿尔都塞本人所认可的循环性之后，巴特勒感到能够提出一种出路，以解决大多数读者所感知的阿尔都塞对主体形成或对已存在的主体认同的描述的绝对决定性和由此产生的宿命论特征，这种描述似乎没有留下任何解释的余地，没有一条逃生的路径——除了阿尔都塞在提及“坏主体”时，即那些拒绝转身回应主体化权威的召唤，实际上冒着生命或精神完整性的风险，所留下的悲剧性注释之外。 巴特勒的解决方案，众所周知，基于这样一个观点：如果一个图式或话语姿态需要实际执行并反复重申以彰显其力量（正如阿尔都塞稍后通过挑衅性地借用帕斯卡关于通过祈祷实践中对服从仪式动作的无尽重复来创造信念的“唯物主义”模式来指出），这种重复由于其本质也涉及一种干扰或麻烦的可能性（可以说是主体麻烦），甚至她称之为“反召唤”的逆转可能性。 ⁸

This poses important problems, both from the point of view of an internal interpretation of Althusser’s argument and from the point of view of the political meaning of the whole idea of “interpellation”—I am tempted to say simply the politics that is engaged by the fact that one refers the power of ideology to this kind of performative effect. It seems to me that Butler’s rewriting of Althusser’s model, arising from a deep understanding of the structure of the “scene,” is made possible by the fact that, like most commentators outside of Marxist theory, she focuses on the second half of Althusser’s essay, which describes the “ideological mechanism,” leaving aside the first half, where Althusser defines the function of ideology as a “reproduction of the relations of production” (“Ideology” 148), that is, a reproduction of the type of subjectivity and identity that is necessary for individuals to work as “voluntary” bearers of an exploited or subjected labor force. More precisely, it is as if Butler had kept a formal notion of “reproduction,” understood as repetition or reiteration, to import it into the field of discourses and affects, leaving aside its relationship to production in the Marxist sense. It is important to recall here that Althusser’s essay—in fact, a collage or product of cutting and pasting portions of an unfinished manuscript—really consists of two separate parts, widely different in style and object, whose enigmatic unity was indicated in the original text through a series of dotted lines and which precisely generated the fruitful character of the essay because they made it impossible for interpreters to use or discuss it without transforming it. Once again, important translation effects are at play here, since in French répétition also means “rehearsal” of a performance and thus, in a sense, always already takes place on a stage, whereas the standard equivalent in German, Wiederholung, is also for us indissolubly associated with the Freudian problematic of the death drive and its symbolic effects. No wonder, of course, that in a highly overdetermined gesture, Butler titled her chapter on Althusser with a parody of a famous phrase from Shakespeare’s Hamlet: “Conscience doth make subjects of us all” (3.1). She would thus indicate that Althusser’s seemingly marginal remark in the essay, à la cantonade, referring to his description of the policeman’s interpellation as “my little theoretical theater,” should be taken entirely seriously and pursued as an investigation of its structure and prerequisites.
这既从对阿尔都塞论证的内部解读的角度，也从事“召唤”这一概念整体的政治意义的角度，提出了重要问题——我几乎可以说，这是由将意识形态的力量指向这种表演性效果所涉及的政冶所引发的。在我看来，巴特勒对阿尔都塞模型的重新诠释，源于对“场景”结构的深刻理解，这得益于她像大多数非马克思主义理论评论家一样，专注于阿尔都塞论文的后半部分，其中描述了“意识形态机制”，而忽略了前半部分，阿尔都塞在其中将意识形态的功能定义为“生产关系的再生产”（《意识形态》第 148 页），即再生产那种主体性和身份，这是个人作为“自愿”的剥削或受奴役的劳动力承载者所必需的。 更精确地说，这就像巴特勒保留了一个形式上的“复制”概念，将其理解为重复或重申，并将其引入话语和情感领域，而忽略了它与马克思主义意义上的生产的关系。在此处，重要的是要回忆起阿尔都塞的论文——实际上，是一篇拼贴或剪切粘贴未完成手稿片段的作品——实际上由两个截然不同的部分组成，风格和对象都大相径庭，它们的神秘统一性通过原文中的一系列虚线标出，这恰恰产生了论文的丰富特性，因为它们使得解释者无法在不改变其内容的情况下使用或讨论它。在这里，重要的翻译效果再次发挥作用，因为在法语中，répétition 也意味着表演的“排练”，因此在某种意义上，它已经在舞台上发生了，而德语中的标准对应词 Wiederholung，对于我们来说，也与弗洛伊德的死亡驱力和其象征性效应不可分割地联系在一起。 难怪，当然，在这样一个高度过度决定的姿态中，巴特勒以莎士比亚《哈姆雷特》中一句著名台词的讽刺形式，将她的关于阿尔都塞的章节命名为：“良心使我们所有人成为臣民”（3.1）。因此，她意在表明，阿尔都塞在论文中看似边缘的评论，类似于方言，描述警察的召唤为“我的小理论剧场”，应该被完全认真对待，并作为对其结构和先决条件的调查来追求。

This is what I want to do myself, in a manner that is partly complementary, partly divergent from hers, by returning to Althusser’s text and trying to extricate more of its intrinsic dramaturgy to suggest a possible displacement of the reading that is made possible by the insertion of the essay in its context. Let me first recall that the circularity of the procedure of interpellation “as subjects” and the theatrical “element” in which the model is located, namely, the fact that such “actions” as interpellation (and nomination, “calling” in the double sense, to begin with) and answer, response, responding, and assuming responsibility are clearly always taking place on a stage. This is the whole problem with the issue of the institutional “conditions” of possibility of performative statements, namely, the fact that the speakers must play their roles. But here, with the question of the effectivity of interpellations, we are immediately forced to take into account a much wider spectrum of experiences, social forms, and institutions, where the theatrical stage at the same time occurs as a general model for the staging of discourse and as one case among many others, where the “scenes” are not only located in theaters but also in civic spaces, agoras, tribunals, temples, private meetings, and ceremonies, or also metaphorically on the “world’s stage,” which is the encompassing space for the staging of life and the assumption of roles, personae in Latin, which also means “masks.” So we can see that Althusser (and Butler) are in fact taking part in a very long tradition, offering variations, as it were, of a theme, the theatrum mundi, that has a long existence in philosophy and art from the Stoics to Shakespeare and Descartes, and indeed in Hegel, Marx, Freud. On the other hand, returning to the aporia that is widely identified by readers in Althusser’s “scene of ideology,” or model of the ideological mechanism as a scene of interpellation, what I want to emphasize is the fact that this aporia is not separable from the assumption that Althusser’s explanations have a political intention, that they are supposed to indicate why processes of reproduction of the social order and the social structure, based on certain forms of domination, are cemented by ideology, whose intrinsic coherence would act as a guarantee for the class relationship. At the same time, this “ideological reproduction” would form a place of revolutionary intervention, marking not a deterministic necessity but rather an intrinsic fragility or contingency. Now the fact is that as it is presented in the text, the mechanism of the ideological constitution of subjects, or the transformation of individuals into subjects, which has always already taken place since there is no originary place outside of ideology, is a mechanism that offers no way out (“Ideology” 175). Even the “bad subjects” are trapped—perhaps more than the others.
这是我打算亲自做的事情，部分上是补充性的，部分上与她的不同，通过回到阿尔图塞的文本中，试图提取更多其内在的戏剧性，以暗示通过将论文插入其背景中可能实现的阅读位移。首先让我回顾一下，这种将“作为主体”的召唤“程序”的循环性以及模型所处的戏剧“元素”，即这种“行动”如召唤（以及提名，“呼唤”在双重意义上，首先）和回答、回应、承担责任等，显然总是在舞台上发生。这正是关于表演性陈述制度“可能性条件”的问题所在，即说话者必须扮演他们的角色。 但是在这里，关于质询的有效性问题，我们立即被迫考虑一个更广泛的经验范围、社会形式和制度，其中戏剧舞台同时作为话语表演的一般模式，以及众多案例中的一个，其中“场景”不仅位于剧院，也位于公共空间、广场、法庭、寺庙、私人会议和仪式，或者也隐喻地位于“世界舞台”上，这是生活表演和角色扮演、拉丁语中的“面具”所涵盖的空间。因此，我们可以看到，阿尔都塞（以及巴特勒）实际上是在参与一个非常长的传统，仿佛在提供这个主题——世界剧场——的变体，这个主题在哲学和艺术中有着悠久的历史，从斯多葛学派到莎士比亚和笛卡尔，以及黑格尔、马克思、弗洛伊德。 另一方面，回到读者在阿尔都塞的“意识形态场景”中所广泛识别的疑难问题，或者将意识形态机制视为一种召唤场景，我想强调的是，这个疑难问题与阿尔都塞的解释具有政治意图的假设不可分割，即它们被认为表明了基于某种形式的统治的社会秩序和社会结构的再生产过程是如何被意识形态加固的，意识形态的内在一致性将作为阶级关系的保证。同时，这种“意识形态再生产”将形成一个革命干预的场所，标记的不是一个决定性的必要性，而是一种内在的脆弱性或偶然性。现在的事实是，正如文本中所呈现的，意识形态构成主体的机制，或者将个体转变为主体的转变，自从没有意识形态之外的原始地点以来就已经发生，这是一个没有出路（“意识形态”第 175 页）的机制。即使是“坏主体”也陷入了困境——也许比其他人更甚。

It is quite clear to me that Althusser’s description is deeply influenced by Freud’s analysis of the “identification processes” that shape, at the same time, the ideal construction of the ego-ideal and the formation of social groups or “masses” (Massenbildungen).⁹ But Freud’s analysis leaves no room, except madness, for a subjectivity that would become liberated from every identification, and this is also formally the case in Althusser. There is “freedom,” of course, but only in the sense of shifting from one identification, one interpellation, to another, for instance letting oneself become interpellated and subjectively constituted by the “Revolution” instead of the “State” or the “Nation” or the “Market” or the “Republic” or, indeed, “God.” There is no “anarchic” freedom in the sense of living, thinking, and acting in the void, the absence of every interpellation, every ideal, that Freud calls an ideal object of love, and Althusser a “Subject” with a capital S. It could be argued that this other circularity, the infinite circularity of the imaginary “Others” from which, qua subjects, we expect interpellation, forming like a prison with many cells and no release, reflects the deep pessimism that invaded Althusser (and others) after ′68. But it should be noticed as well that he doesn’t say (and in fact nothing in his text says) that different interpellations, which have the same ideological structure, the structure of “ideology in general,” produce the same historical and political effects. The theory doesn’t say that the political effects are the same if your model of interpellation is patriotism or internationalism or the Subject is God as inflexible Legislator or God as suffering Servant. Perhaps it says just the opposite: that the effect remains essentially indeterminate until it becomes determined in a given conjuncture, both by the internal “logic” of the specific discourse of interpellation and by the external conditions of its insertion into the processes of reproduction of the existing order—a combination in which there must probably always remain something aleatory or contingent. It remains now to be seen if this could be investigated by means of a fuller use of the “dramaturgic” model that, in agreement with Butler, I have identified in the text.
对我来说，阿尔都塞的描述深受弗洛伊德对“认同过程”的分析影响，这些过程同时塑造了自我理想的理想构建以及社会群体或“大众”（Massenbildungen）的形成。然而，弗洛伊德的分析除了疯狂之外，没有为摆脱所有认同的主体性留下任何空间，在阿尔都塞那里也是如此。当然，存在“自由”，但这种自由只是在从一种认同、一种召唤转向另一种认同的意义上，例如让自己被“革命”而不是“国家”或“民族”或“市场”或“共和国”或“上帝”所召唤和主观构成。不存在弗洛伊德所说的理想之爱的理想对象，即阿尔都塞所说的带有大写的“主体”。 可以认为，这种其他的循环，即想象中的“他者”的无限循环，我们作为主体期待着被召唤，就像一个有许多牢房而没有释放的监狱，反映了阿尔都塞（以及其他人）在 1968 年之后所陷入的深刻悲观主义。但同时也应注意到，他没有说（实际上他的文本中也没有说）具有相同意识形态结构、即“一般意识形态”结构的不同的召唤会产生相同的历史和政治效果。理论并没有说，如果你的召唤模式是爱国主义或国际主义，或者主体是作为不可变立法者的上帝或作为受苦的仆人的上帝，政治效果就会相同。也许它说的是相反的：效果本质上保持不确定，直到在特定的情境中确定，这既取决于召唤的具体话语的内部“逻辑”，也取决于将其插入到现有秩序再生产过程中的外部条件——在这种组合中，可能始终存在某种偶然或偶然性。 现在还需要观察的是，是否可以通过更充分地运用“戏剧”模型来对此进行研究，这个模型与 Butler 的观点一致，我在文本中已经识别出。

The first element that I find striking in Althusser’s examples of interpellation concerns his insistence on the staging of the voice that “interpellates” the subject as a voice whose origin—or, if you like, whose speaking “mouth”—is concealed or hiding, not only behind a mask as in the ancient model of the persona, which keeps governing so much classical reflection on the theater (including Diderot’s and Brecht’s theories on the paradoxe du comédien and the “distanciating techniques” borrowed from non-Western theater),¹⁰ but behind a veil or a curtain (or a cloud), which is the veil of transcendence. To put it better so as to keep within the limits of a “materialist” description of the theatrical machinery: it is the veiling effect that produces an effect of transcendence, the effect of withdrawing the origin of the interpellation, removing the possibility of identifying an author, except through the tautologies asserting his authority. I am who I am, says the voice that interpellates Moses from behind the Burning Bush. Here, of course, we need to move from one “theater” to another, from the everyday scenes of authority, identification, and interpellation to the grand historical and cosmic scene where the source of the dominant ideologies—perhaps only the dominant ideologies of the West, which are based on a certain representation of the Law—are traditionally staged. And this produces two consequences. The first consequence is that the concealment of the origin of the voice becomes part of a generic machine, the Machine, as it were, that will have to be indefinitely reproduced within the ideological world, at the same time setting the pattern that everyday interpellations reiterate. (All judges and police officers stage their interpellation in order to reenact the arch-interpellation of the Law; each priest or pastor stages his admonitions as repetitions of the Revelation; each of us stages the “voice of conscience” in the internal theater as one that speaks unconditionally but from nowhere.) And second, it means that the little subjects cannot receive the voice, respond to it, or transmit it to others without filling the void with some sort of imaginary, if only the projection of their own desire for subjection. This is why Althusser explains that a new circle must take place: that of the imagination of the Other Subject by whose mediation or intermediary a given ideology would interpellate individuals as its subjected subjects. This circle—which is a circularity between the stage and the backstage or a re-creation of a backstage each time a subject imagines herself called by (and toward) a transcendent Subject (that is, a power whose authority is beyond contestation or even comprehension)—is theatrical in its very nature, but it is also fragile in the sense that, circumstances permitting, it arouses skepticism and rebellion or heresy as easily as obedience and devotion.
阿尔都塞在召唤例证中让我印象深刻的第一个元素，是他坚持将“召唤”主体的声音呈现为一个起源或说话“嘴巴”隐藏或隐藏起来的声音——或者，如果你愿意，它隐藏在面具之后，就像古代面具模型那样，继续统治着许多关于戏剧的经典反思（包括狄德罗和布莱希特的关于“演员的悖论”和从非西方戏剧中借用的“疏离技巧”的理论）， ¹⁰ 而且隐藏在面纱或帘子（或云层）之后，这是超越的面纱。为了更好地表达，以便保持在“唯物主义”对戏剧机器的描述范围内：这就是遮蔽效果产生超越效果，即撤回召唤的起源，消除识别作者的可能性，除非通过断言他权威的同一性。我在燃烧的荆棘背后说：“我是我。”召唤摩西的声音说。 当然，这里我们需要从一个“舞台”转移到另一个，从权威、身份认同和召唤的日常场景转移到宏大的历史和宇宙场景，在这个场景中，主导意识形态的源头——或许仅仅是西方的主导意识形态，它们基于对法律的某种表征——传统上被上演。这产生了两个后果。第一个后果是，声音起源的隐藏成为了一个通用机器——即所谓的机器——的一部分，这个机器在意识形态世界中必须无限期地被复制，同时设定了日常召唤重复的模式。 所有法官和警察官员上演他们的质询，以重演法律的绝对质询；每位牧师或牧师上演他们的告诫，作为启示录的重复；我们每个人在内剧中上演“良心之声”，它无条件地说话，但来自无何有之乡。其次，这意味着小主体无法接收声音、回应它或将其传达给他人，除非用某种形式的想象来填补空白，哪怕只是他们自己服从欲望的投射。这就是为什么阿尔都塞解释说，必须发生一个新的循环：即他者的想象，通过这种中介或中介，某种意识形态将个体质询为其服从的主体。 这个圆圈——它是在舞台与后台之间的循环，或者说是每次一个主体想象自己被（并且朝向）一个超越的主体（即权威超越争议甚至理解的权力）召唤时所重现的后台——在本质上具有戏剧性，但它在某种程度上也是脆弱的，因为，在允许的情况下，它同样容易激起怀疑、反抗或异端，就像激起服从和奉献一样。

Here we think of Lacan (whom Althusser had partly read), of course, and his thesis (since the Seminar on psychoses from 1955–56) that “there is no Other of the Other” which would warrant it—except that, as we know, Althusser’s thesis, right or wrong, was always that the symbolic orders of authority and law are no more than formations crystallizing the social imaginary. The stronger inspiration of this model, in fact, which the reference to Moses clearly indicates, is the description and interpretation of the revelation on Mount Sinai proposed by Spinoza in the Theological-Political Treatise. It is from there that Althusser may have borrowed not only the idea that the Prophet or Legislator can enunciate the Law as an Absolute only on the condition of adapting his own imaginary to the dominant imaginary of the people or the mass (an idea that we will retrieve in Althusser’s interpretation of Machiavelli’s Prince) but also the idea that the interpellated Legislator or Mediator can transmit the interpellation that he has received to those for whom it is ultimately destined (that is, ordinary men, the people or the “herd”) only at the risk that this challenge may backfire onto the imagination of the originary voice, or the Hidden Mouth itself—as in the episode of the Golden Calf (another staging, or form of “per-formative reversal”). Perhaps Althusser does not entirely say this, but his example, with the religious and philosophical connotations that it carries, says it for him. And this, of course, is where we could locate his own virtual introduction of a counterinterpellation, or the idea of a “play” that diverges in an unpredictable manner from the written script.
这里我们想到拉康（阿尔都塞曾部分阅读过他），当然，以及他的论点（自 1955-56 年的精神病研讨会以来），即“没有其他他者”这一论点可以证明它——除了我们知道，阿尔都塞的论点，无论对错，始终是权威和法律象征秩序不过是社会想象的结晶形式。事实上，这一模型的更强灵感，正如对摩西的提及所明确指出的，是斯宾诺莎在《神学政治论》中提出的西奈山启示的描述和解释。 从那里，阿尔都塞可能不仅借鉴了先知或立法者只能在适应自己的想象以符合人民的或大众的主导想象的前提下，才能宣布法律为绝对（这一想法我们将在阿尔都塞对马基雅维利的《君主论》的解释中找到），而且还借鉴了被召唤的立法者或调解者可以将他收到的召唤传递给最终目标对象（即普通人、人民或“羊群”）的想法，但这种挑战可能会反作用于原始声音或隐藏的嘴巴的想象——就像在金牛犊事件中（另一种表演，或“表演性逆转”的形式）。也许阿尔都塞并没有完全这样说，但他的例子，带着它所携带的宗教和哲学含义，为他说了这番话。当然，这就是我们可以定位他自己的虚拟反召唤引入，或“游戏”以不可预测的方式偏离书面脚本的地方。

But to this we must now add another element. If we reassemble the separated developments of the two “parts” in the ideological state apparatuses (isas) essay—the one on “social reproduction” of the structures of domination and the one on “interpellation of individuals as subjects” through the mediation of an imaginary Subject (or Other)—we reach the supposition that there is indeed someone or something, some “force,” acting behind the scene or, rather, behind the theater itself (perhaps in some hidden box, as in Walter Benjamin’s allegory of the automaton chess player of Maelzel). This instance or agency, in Althusser’s conception, is the state in its broad or generic sense—that of a concentrated political power securing the reproduction of the dominant class structure and also, we are led to understand, selecting the individuals within society to return them as “subjects” adapted to their productive functions. This would be a banal Marxist (or, more generally, anti-authoritarian) indictment of the political function of the state as instrument of class domination if it were not for a strange internal dislocation: the State, like God himself, is efficient in “identifying” its own subjects and imposing on them the circularity of recognition only on the condition of withdrawing from any visible place in the process or the circuit of reproduction. This is particularly developed in a later text: a public lecture delivered in Grenada, Spain, in 1976, with the title “The Transformation of Philosophy,” where Althusser explains that the ideological power of the state lies in imposing on the subject’s consciousness a “unity” or “identity” that it does not necessarily possess at all but is always supposed to possess. In order to be active within reproduction as an “ideological power,”¹¹ the State must in fact be absent from the processes of reproduction—or it must, like the Freudian unconscious, according to Lacan, be acting (that is, it must think, or make think) “where it is not. . .”
但是，现在我们必须再加上另一个因素。如果我们重新组装意识形态国家机器（isas）论文中分离的两个“部分”——一个是关于支配结构的“社会再生产”，另一个是通过一个想象的主体（或他者）的中介来“个体化”主体——我们就达到这样的假设：确实存在某人或某物，某种“力量”，在幕后或在剧院本身之后（也许在某些隐藏的盒子里，就像沃尔特·本雅明关于梅尔泽自动象棋手的寓言中那样）。在这个例子或机构中，在阿尔都塞的概念中，这是国家在其广泛或一般意义上——即集中政治权力确保主导阶级结构的再生产——并且，我们被引导理解，也在选择社会中的个体，使他们作为“主体”适应其生产功能。 这本来可以是对国家作为阶级统治工具的政治功能的平庸的马克思主义（或更普遍地，反权威主义）的指控，如果不是因为一种奇怪的内部错位：国家，就像上帝自己一样，在“识别”其自身主体和仅在撤出任何可见位置或再生产过程或循环中的可见位置的情况下对它们强加循环的认可方面是高效的。这一点在后来的文本中得到了特别的发展：1976 年在西班牙格林纳达发表的公开演讲，题为“哲学的转型”，在那里阿尔都塞解释说，国家的意识形态权力在于将“统一”或“同一性”强加给主体的意识，而这种“统一”或“同一性”他们并不一定真正拥有，但总是被认为应该拥有。为了在再生产中作为一个“意识形态权力”发挥作用，国家实际上必须从再生产过程中缺席——或者，根据拉康的说法，就像弗洛伊德的无意识一样，它必须“在那里不在”（也就是说，它必须思考，或者让他人思考）。

You will say: this transposition of the structuralist idea of the “absent cause” into an allegory of the power that dislocates or “decenters” itself in order to remain an empty place of attraction for the imagination of the subjects does not really solve the political problem of liberation from ideology as such. At the very best, it indicates in political-theological terms where a counterinterpellation or a heretical gesture could “interrupt” the play, deviate it, or “cut” into it. But on the other side—the “Marxist” side, we might say—it seems to introduce a redoubtable dilemma: since the mechanism of “interpellation” from which derives the imaginary circle of specularity, binding together the Big Subject and the little subjects, therefore the hypothesis of the “absent State” installing the machine for its own retreat, is presented as a description of “ideology in general,” independent of historical transformations (or “eternal,” as Althusser writes provocatively in the same essay), would this mean that we should look elsewhere for an interpellation without a State? Or should we admit that the “State” is just as eternal as ideology itself, albeit perhaps with other names and other forms of organization, such as—why not?—“Revolution” or “Communist Party”? Would “Revolution” perhaps be the new name of the State, thus calling indefinitely for its own “counterinterpellations” or “revolutions within the revolution,” not to say “counterrevolutions”?
您会说：这种将结构主义“缺席原因”观念转化为一种寓言，即权力为了保持对主体想象力的吸引力而使自己错位或“去中心化”，这实际上并没有真正解决从意识形态中解放出来的政治问题。在最理想的情况下，它以政治神学术语表明，一种反召唤或异端行为可以“打断”游戏，使其偏离，或“切入”其中。但另一方面——我们可以说，是“马克思主义”的一面——这似乎引入了一个令人敬畏的二难困境：既然“召唤”的机制产生了想象的镜像圈，将大主体和小主体联系在一起，那么“缺席国家”安装撤退机器的假设，被描述为“意识形态的一般描述”，独立于历史变革（或“永恒的”，如阿尔都塞在同一篇文章中挑衅性地写道），这意味着我们应该在其他地方寻找没有国家的召唤吗？ 或者，我们应该承认“国家”与意识形态本身一样永恒，尽管可能以其他名称和其他组织形式，比如——为什么不呢——“革命”或“共产党”？“革命”或许将是“国家”的新名称，从而无限期地呼唤其自身的“反召唤”或“革命内部的革命”，更不用说“反革命”了？

It is here that, to provide an ultimate décalage, I want to refer to the posthumous book Machiavelli and Us. With the exception of some marginal corrections and additions, it was written mainly between 1972 and 1976 and then kept private by Althusser (who would show it only to a few friends and interlocutors).¹² I have written previously that this was in a sense Althusser’s point d’honneur during a period of bitter struggles, of personal and political misfortunes, and of failed attempts to adapt orthodox Marxist categories to an increasingly escaping reality. It is a book that has the same stylistic qualities, sharp and passionate, as only one or two others in Althusser’s career (the book on Montesquieu and the For Marx collection, in particular). But what interests me more in this circumstance is the fact that it provides a transformation of the problematic of the isas, which is also a way of once again rewriting the dramaturgy of ideology and its internal tensions. Considering Machiavelli’s Prince from the beginning as a work of art but also an artifice or a textual “machine” that “grips us” readers (“Il nous saisit”)—that is, it interpellates us today (as it did in the past for Spinoza, Rousseau, Hegel, and others) and leaves us uncertain and troubled with respect to its exact intentions—Althusser would also suggest that not only had Machiavelli written his book in the conjuncture, under its specific constraints and urgencies (which, according to him, is very different from writing on the conjuncture), but he can also only be read in a conjuncture, where, depending on the specific problems of the time, it will produce incommensurable effects. The “theaters” involved here are theaters of politics, which also very much resemble theaters of war in a generalized sense.
这里，为了提供一个终极的错位，我想提及阿尔都塞的遗著《马基雅维利与我们》。除了少数边缘性的修正和补充，这本书主要是在 1972 年至 1976 年间写成，然后被阿尔都塞私藏（他只向少数朋友和对话者展示）。我之前曾写道，这在一定程度上是阿尔都塞在一段充满激烈斗争、个人和政治不幸以及试图将正统马克思主义范畴适应日益脱轨的现实失败的时期所引以为傲的。这是一本具有与阿尔都塞职业生涯中其他一或两本书相同的风格特点——尖锐而热情——的书（特别是关于孟德斯鸠的书和《为马克思而作》的文集）。但在此情况下，更吸引我的是，它提供了一种对“意识形态”问题的转化，这也是重新书写意识形态的戏剧性和其内部紧张关系的一种方式。 将马基雅维利的《君主论》从一开始就视为一部艺术品，同时也是一件艺术作品或文本“机器”，它“抓住了我们”读者（“Il nous saisit”）——也就是说，它今天（正如它过去对斯宾诺莎、卢梭、黑格尔等人所做的那样）质询我们，并让我们对其确切意图感到不确定和困惑——阿尔都塞还会建议，马基雅维利不仅是在特定的历史背景下、在其特定的约束和紧迫性下写下了这本书（据他所说，这与在历史背景下写作非常不同），而且它也只有在特定的历史背景下才能被阅读，在那里，根据特定时代的问题，它将产生不可比较的影响。这里涉及的“剧场”是政治剧场，在广义上也非常类似于战争剧场。

Let us now jump directly to the final section of Machiavelli and Us, called “The Political Practice of the New Prince.” What we find there is not only a speculation on the uncertain combinations of fortuna and virtù in the aleatory situations of history, but the idea that this “war” (whether a “war of movement” or a “war of position”) essentially presupposes the invention of a politics of ideology. This is linked with a presentation of the prince (or rather the new Prince, who inaugurates a regime of power and seeks to stabilize it) that makes him neither the embodiment of the State, the bearer of the monarchic or presidential function exercising leadership, nor a “Legislator” in the ancient sense, repeatedly discussed in political theory after the privileged example of Moses. Rather, the new Prince is presented as an agent who is also an actor on the historical stage. And in fact this is possible only because he is at the same time the director who sets the stage for his own acting or performing. This is necessary because, according to Machiavelli as Althusser reads him, the determining element in securing “national” support for his own power and project is the capacity to change, channel, and control the opinion of the people. More precisely, what matters is the opinion of the majority of the people, which is always made of ordinary, relatively poor people (the popolo minuto of the Italian cities, as opposed to the rich and the noble class, the popolo grasso). It is the opinion or representation that the people have acquired of the person and the actions of the Prince, therefore the “figure” of the Prince as a ruler in the imagination of the people, that is decisive for the success of his own action—as long as it can last (which, as we know, is never ad infinitum). This leads Althusser to insist on the fact that, in the Prince’s art, which aims not so much at attracting the love of his subjects (a highly ambivalent affect, easily turned into its opposite) but rather at inspiring fear without hatred, the Prince must be able to “play” in public with his own passions, to offer them for elaboration in the imaginary of the people (we are tempted to say identification and counteridentification). A very difficult task indeed, which seems to require quite antithetic capacities and dispositions: a political passion subjecting the other passions (including the passion for power, riches, and admiration), on the one hand, and a “ruse of the ruse,” on the other, indicating when to feign and when not to feign, or, in other words, when to speak the truth and when not to speak the truth to the people—following a “rule of veridiction and dissimulation,” norma veri et falsi, we are tempted to say with Spinoza (another careful reader of Machiavelli). But the ultimate condition, according to Althusser’s reading, remains an objective one, albeit one entirely located in the material field of ideology: this is the negative condition of never offending the “general ideology” of the poor, the ordinary people, which is defined here as religion and morality, or the idea of the holy and the idea of justice.
让我们直接跳到《马基雅维利与我们》的最后一部分，称为“新君主的治国实践”。在那里我们发现的不只是对历史偶然情境中运气与美德不确定组合的推测，还有一种观点，即这种“战争”（无论是“运动战”还是“阵地战”）本质上预设了意识形态政治的发明。这与对君主（或者更确切地说，新君主，他开创了权力体制并寻求稳定它）的介绍有关，使他既不是国家的化身，不是行使领导权的君主或总统职能的承担者，也不是在政治理论中反复讨论的、在摩西特权例子之后的“立法者”。相反，新君主被描绘成一个既是代理人也是历史舞台上的行动者。事实上，这之所以可能，正是因为他同时是导演，为自己设定了表演或行动的舞台。 这是必要的，因为，正如阿尔都塞解读的马基雅维利所言，确保“国家”对其权力和项目的“支持”的决定性因素是改变、引导和控制人民意见的能力。更确切地说，重要的是大多数人民的意见，这些人总是由普通、相对贫穷的人组成（与富人和贵族阶级相对，即意大利城市的 popolo minuto）。这是人民对君主个人及其行动所形成的意见或代表，因此，在人民想象中作为统治者的“君主形象”对于其行动的成功至关重要——只要它能持续下去（正如我们所知，这永远不会是无限的）。 这导致阿尔都塞坚持认为，在《君主论》中，君主的目的是激发恐惧而非仇恨（这是一种高度矛盾的情感，很容易转变为相反的情感），而不是吸引臣民的爱（一种高度矛盾的情感，很容易转变为相反的情感），因此君主必须能够在公共场合“扮演”自己的激情，将它们呈现在人民的想象中（我们倾向于说认同和反认同）。这确实是一项非常困难的任务，似乎需要相当对立的能力和态度：一方面，一种政治激情支配着其他激情（包括对权力、财富和赞美的激情），另一方面，一种“诡计的诡计”，表明何时假装，何时不假装，换句话说，何时说真话，何时不对人民说真话——遵循“真理与虚伪的规则”，即 norma veri et falsi，我们倾向于用斯宾诺莎的话来说（另一位仔细阅读马基雅维利的读者）。 然而，根据阿尔都塞的解读，最终条件仍然是一种客观条件，尽管它完全位于意识形态的物质领域中：这是永远不冒犯“一般意识形态”即穷人和普通人的意识形态的消极条件，在这里被定义为宗教和道德，或神圣观念和正义观念。

Let me conclude briefly by saying that this new description sketches a “politics of ideology” in the double sense of the genitive (using ideology itself as an instrument in the field of ideological formations) based on the perception of its subjective constitution. It could be defined, therefore, as a play with interpellation and the limits of interpellation. Clearly, it is “aleatory” both in its conditions and its results: this is a politics without guarantee, hence without certainty. The most interesting question to ask, however, concerns its political orientation in terms of where this kind of “autonomy of the political” would lead: whether toward the conservation of or a revolution in the existing social order. In fact, it is certainly not “conservative.” Althusser was continually returning with more or less sympathetic feelings to Gramsci’s attempts to “translate” Machiavelli into the language of a revolutionary strategy for the contemporary Communist Party endowed with a “hegemonic” capacity. He was also an avid reader of Montaigne’s and Pascal’s considerations on the costuming of magistrates and a commentator of seventeenth-century theorists of the apparatus of the state in the sense of pomp and ceremony (whence he may have borrowed his terminology as much as from Marx’s and Lenin’s “State apparatus”), combining thus a machinery and a show. It seems to me that his reading of Machiavelli has certain affinities, on a different terrain, with Benjamin’s distinction between “mythical” and “divine” violence (an author he certainly had not read), except that here what is at stake is conservative versus disruptive uses of the imaginary, or the collective figurations of ideology. But none of this, it seems to me, entirely resolves the “aporia” of an action of the masses (or the people) upon their own imaginary that would use the artifices of visualization and representation in order to orient it toward actions that are in their own interest, following ideals in which they believe—without believing “blindly,” as it were, or in which they believe with a distance. The difficulty seems to be the same as the one already encountered by Spinoza at the end of the Theological-Political Treatise when asking how it could be possible that a “power of the multitude” not be terrorized by the multitude, or by the enormity of its own power.
让我简要地总结一下，这种新的描述在双重意义上勾勒出了一种“意识形态政治”：一方面，它将意识形态本身作为意识形态形成领域的工具；另一方面，它基于对其主观构成的感知。因此，它可以被定义为一种关于召唤和召唤极限的游戏。显然，它在条件和结果上都是“偶然的”：这是一种没有保证的政治，因此没有确定性。然而，最有趣的问题是要问它的政治导向，即这种“政治自主性”将导致什么样的结果：是保守现有社会秩序，还是对其进行革命。实际上，它肯定不是“保守的”。阿尔都塞不断地带着或多或少同情的情感回到葛兰西试图将马基雅维利翻译成当代具有“霸权”能力的共产党的革命战略语言的尝试。 他也是蒙田和帕斯卡关于法官服饰的思考的热心读者，以及 17 世纪关于国家机器（在仪式和排场意义上的）理论家的评论者（他可能从他那里借用了术语，就像从马克思和列宁的“国家机器”那里借用一样），从而结合了机械和表演。在我看来，他对马基雅维利的阅读与本雅明在“神话”和“神圣”暴力之间的区分有着某种亲和力，尽管在截然不同的领域（一个作者他肯定没有阅读过），但在这里，所涉及的是保守主义与颠覆性想象的使用，或集体意识形态的象征。然而，在我看来，这一切并没有完全解决关于大众（或人民）对自己想象的“困境”，即使用视觉和表现的艺术手法来引导他们采取符合自身利益的行为，遵循他们所信仰的理想——不是盲目地信仰，或者说，他们带着距离去信仰。 困难似乎与斯宾诺莎在《神学政治论》结尾探讨如何可能存在一个“多数人的力量”不被多数人或者其自身力量的巨大所恐吓的情况时遇到的困难相同。

This allows me a final, very formal remark. In a sense, what I have read in two series of texts was, first, a description of theater as politics and, then, an attempt at conceptualizing politics as theater. In both cases, what appears is that the key—or one key, but an important one—to understanding Althusser’s ruminations about ideology lies in the fact that, for him, ideology is always already a dramaturgy. History appears not only as a succession of “modes of production” but as a series of “productions” in the sense of performances, where one staging (or mise-en-scène) can become corrected and its effects transformed only through another mise-en-scène, and so on indefinitely. He had written toward the end of the preface to Reading Capital that, from a materialist point of view, “history” should be conceived as “a theater without an author.” I am not sure whether this was Marx’s view—not so much because of the repudiation of the “author,” but because of the “theater,” although it is striking to see how often Marx speaks in terms of stages, scenes, intrigues, and genres, notably in the famous assertion that historical events always occur twice, “first as tragedy, then as farce.”¹³ But it was certainly one of Althusser’s obsessions. And he may have fancied himself at times not as an author (I believe that he hated authorship as much as Foucault did, if not more), but as a metteur en scène, a stage director in the field of theory or in the field of that specific politics of ideology with which he identified philosophy under the name of “class struggle in theory,” a director whose action is incorporated and occulted in his own production (“Philosophy” 19–21).
这使我得以作出最后的、非常正式的评论。从某种意义上说，我在两套文本中读到的，首先是关于将戏剧视为政治的描述，然后是尝试将政治概念化为戏剧的尝试。在这两种情况下，出现的情况是，理解阿尔都塞关于意识形态沉思的关键——或者是一个关键，但一个重要的关键——在于，对他来说，意识形态始终是一种戏剧。历史不仅表现为“生产方式”的连续，而且表现为一系列“生产”，即表演，其中一种舞台（或布景）只能通过另一种舞台（或布景）得到纠正，其效果才能转变，如此无限循环。 他在《阅读资本》序言的结尾处写道，从唯物主义观点来看，“历史”应被视为“一个没有作者的话剧”。我不确定这是否是马克思的观点——与其说是对“作者”的否定，不如说是对“话剧”的强调，尽管马克思经常用阶段、场景、阴谋和体裁等术语来谈论，尤其是在著名的断言中，历史事件总是以两种方式发生，“第一次是悲剧，第二次是闹剧”。 ¹³ 但这无疑是阿尔都塞的痴迷之一。他可能有时并不把自己看作是一个作者（我相信他像福柯一样，甚至更讨厌作者身份），而是一个导演，一个在理论领域或在他所认同的特定意识形态政治领域中的导演，即他称之为“理论中的阶级斗争”的哲学，一个他的行动被融入并隐藏在他自己的作品中的导演（“哲学”第 19-21 页）。

Notes  注释

Works Cited  参考文献