History of Sex (4)

Notes on Part 4 of The History of Sexuality v.1. (cont.)

Near the end of the chapter entitled “Objective,” Foucault offers four basic prescriptive rules regarding any inquiry onto the nature of sexuality:

  1. Rule of immanence

  2. Rule of continual variations

  3. Rule of double conditionings

  4. Rule of tactical polyvalence of discourses

I think these rules are the self-constituting assumptions which underlie any critical technique which can be called “Foucaultian,” and personally, I find them easy to accept.

The first rule is an avoidance of dealing with transcendent concepts as an “easy out”— sexuality exists as a present sphere of discourse, not as an “essential” concept outside any mode of inquiry. It has been established as a possible object, as a target for discussion, and for that reason alone sexuality is immanent rather than transcendent. It its location as a “target” that allows us to examine it in this fashion, and Foucault then assumes that the examination of the “power centers” where discourse happens— the relationship between penitent and confessor, or members of society and those who make the rules, which localize this immanent power. Examining them is his primary objective. It is the discourse which is the focus, not a philosophical inquiry into origins.

Given that discourse is the “subject” of investigation, not any essential nature of sex itself, it seems to logically follow in linguistic terms that this discourse is subject to infinite variation. Rather than looking at who “has” the power, and who is subjugated by it, his inquiry is focused on the matrix of these variations. The fundamental assumption is that “relations of power-knowledge are not static forms of distribution, they are ‘matrices of transformations’” (99). Examining things in this light results in an interesting reversal— it is not that the subjects “with the power” who exert it, but rather those who attempt to exercise it that are transformed. This is deeply at odds with any notion of the repressive hypothesis— rather than being subjected by power, marginal groups actually redefine the interplay of power by calling into question the validity of those who seek to influence. By chastising the government for funding perverts, for example, Jesse Helms deeply reveals how perverse the lay conception of the arts really is. This is the sort of double conditioning that is built in to society. However, Foucault quickly moves to distance himself from mirror or micro/macro relationships between society and family, suggesting instead that the similarities between them does not constitute a replication or duplication, but rather that they are similar “tactics” in a strategic envelope. They are not homogenous, and are separate from the larger scale.

The variations in power-relations at the differing levels mean that each level must be examined separately— the “polyvalence of discourse” implies this sort of difference in orbit, difference in relationships, which must be mapped by close attention to individual relationships rather than general ones.

Discourses are not once and for all subservient to power or raised up against it, any more than silences are. We must make allowance for the complex and unstable process whereby discourse can be both an instrument and an effect of power, but also a hinderance, a stumbling block, a point of resistance and a starting point for an opposing strategy. Discourse transmits and produces power; it reinforces it, but also undermines and exposes it, renders it fragile and makes it possible to thwart it. (101)

Ultimately, Foucault seeks a strategic model of power based not on hierarchy, but on a broader notion of political power— to replace law with “objective” (which I read to be more closely aligned with Burke’s notion of “motive”), and to replace prohibition with concepts of efficacy, and sovereignty with a more democratic notion of “multiple and mobile field[s] of force” (102).

In the next chapter, Foucault sets out the Domain of his inquiry. He moves quickly to dismiss the idea that sex is a “stubborn drive” that is alien and disobedient to power, but rather than it exists as a transfer point in power relations, which he charts as four historical strategic unities:

  1. A hysterization of women’s bodies (women made the locus of sex)

  2. A pedagogization of children’s sex (dividing natural and unnatural)

  3. A socialization of procreative behavior (through incitement and restriction)

  4. A psychiatrization of perverse pleasure (sex becomes isolated)

The motive behind these strategies seems to be a deployment of alliance (106-107). The end result though, seems to be moving toward the substitution of a deployment of sexuality. Both are coexistent, however. There is an interpenetration, which Foucault sees as parallel to the emergence of the confessional, which problemetized “the flesh.” I think the comparison is strained, as is the familiar assertion that the family is formed through the enforcement of the incest taboo. Thankfully, Foucault doesn’t really go there, and instead suggests that the deployment of sexuality developed on the fringes of familial institutions that attempted to stabilize themselves through external means— alliances with doctors, clergy, etc. There is a complex technical machinery of sex, which produces the roles we play rather than merely operating as an oppressor.

In the final chapter of this section, Periodization Foucault problemitizes the traditional historical periods, defined by the cyclical repressive hypothesis. He also goes on to promote the idea that the concept of a medical/theological discourse on sex originated in the bourgeoisie, and the stratification regarding sexual behavior was intense. The upper class were relatively unconcerned with the behavior of the lower classes, however, by structuring their behavior according to the newly emergent rules, the helped to prop up the class system by reinforcing their difference. This materialist view is attractive, but also somewhat bothersome. It points out the necessity of examining the discourse not only from an upper-class received history, but also through an examination of the practices of the working class.

I know several Americanists trapped in the same sort of division regarding the early years of America. The timing of births and marriages do not suggest that the average American was any more pious, regardless of Puritan rhetoric. The complexity of the mechanism defies easy resolution.