Wednesday, October 30, 2013

I "finished" reading Tim Morton's Realist Magic but keep going back to it.  This is one of the passages I find myself returning to:

" The meaning of a poem is (in the ) future.  A poem's 'What I do is me' is to have been read, recited, placed in an anthology, ignored, remembered, translated.  This future is not a now-point that is n now-points away from the current one.  The future is what Derrida calls l'avenir, the to-come, or what I call the future future. In a very strict sense, then, poetry does come from the future.  A weird Platonism is in effect, beaming the shadows of objects down from their unspeakable existence in the future future into sensual-aesthetic-causal coexistence.  The future future is not some transcendental beyond: there is no beyond in OOO*, since this would be a top object par excellence.  Nor is the future future a 'time' in which the object 'resides.' Rather, the future future is the pure possibility of the object as such."

* OOO--object oriented ontology(TB)

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