In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Dostoevsky, Girard, LevinasApocalyptic Frenzy and Eschatological Ethics in Dostoevsky's DevilsJ. A. Jackson (bio)In his interview with René Girard, Benoît Chantre connects the mimetic theory of René Girard with the ethics of Emmanuel Levinas, observing, "It is in the confrontation with otherness that the individual acquires self-consciousness. The self has no meaning except in the relationship, even when the relationship takes the form of a duel. Can we not say, (...) following Levinas, that only experience of war can allow us to think about reconciliation?" Girard concurs and expands: "According to what you have said, Levinas saw the duel, like love, as an escape from totality that we absolutely need. However, it is in this sense that it explodes totality…. By affirming that the duel is already the relationship to the Other, it shows that the relationship sits at the heart of violent reciprocity."1 How fitting that a discussion regarding the thought of Girard and Levinas should center at some point on the duel, an act of violence, of course, and yet an event also pregnant with ethical implications, as rivals must respond face-to-face. Perhaps we should not be so surprised that our two thinkers should fashion the duel as both a temptation to murder and the command "Thou shalt [End Page 227] not murder"; both men have a deep love and sense of indebtedness to the Russian novelist Fyodor Dostoevsky, a man in whose works the duel—both literal and relational—often plays a crucial narrative, and penitential, role.As the conversation between Chantre and Girard reveals, the pairing of Girard and Levinas seems wholly natural and still much underappreciated.2 Dostoevsky seems to be a natural interlocutor, as one cannot help but feel Dostoevsky's hyperbolic excessiveness coursing through the works of both Girard and Levinas. To read Dostoevsky now, thanks to Girard, one cannot help but be dazzled by Dostoevsky's genius regarding mimetic desire and modern man's underground psychology, the very foundations for Girard's notion of the Apocalyptic. To read Levinas means having the notion of infinite responsibility illumined by Dostoevsky's beautiful religious meditations, where previously one may have only seen Dostoevsky's relishing the idea of the impossible, a mixture of monastic asceticism, Karamozovan passion, and Dostoevsky's own romantic proclivities.3 In this essay, I wish to pursue a reading of Dostoevsky's Devils with Girard's thoughts on apocalypticism and mimetic frenzy—with its inherent focus on the human "political" community—on one side. This is, in turn, partnered with Levinas's sense of the eschatological as an anarchic response to history and politics, with ethics being prior to both politics and history. Most importantly, however, I want to offer my own reading of Dostoevsky and investigate his own position inside of this exchange. To this end, alongside Levinas's idea of eschatology, especially as spelled out in Totality and Infinity, and Girard's often understated, yet very-much-present notion of positive mimesis (love), I also investigate Dostoevsky's notion of kenosis, a key idea in Dostoevsky's anthropology, psychology, and theology.René Girard has always maintained that he did not invent his mimetic theory—that he simply needed only to listen to what great authors like Cervantes, Dante, Shakespeare, Proust, and, especially, Dostoevsky had to say about desire. Indeed, Dostoevsky maintains a central position in Girard's first book, Deceit, Desire and the Novel, and is his only subject matter in Resurrection from the Underground. The connection between Girard and Dostoevsky became even more profound for Girard: "When I wrote the last chapter of my first book, I had a vague idea of what I would do, but as the chapter took form I realized I was undergoing my own version of the experience I was describing. I was particularly attracted to the Christian elements, for example, Stepan Verkhovensky's final journeys and turn to the Gospel before his death. So I began to read the Gospels and the rest of the bible. And I turned into a Christian."4 One can find in much of Girard's meditations on Dostoevsky the seeds of so many [End Page 228] of his... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:"And They Sang A New Song":Reading John's Revelation From The Position Of The LambJ.A. Jackson (bio) and Allen H. Redmon (bio)Then one of the elders said to me, "Do not weep. See, the Lion of the tribe of Judah, the Root of David, has conquered, so that he can open the scroll and the seven seals." Then I saw between the throne and the four living creatures and among (...) the elders a Lamb standing as if it had been slaughtered.—Revelation 5:5–6In an interview with Markus Müller, René Girard asserts the importance of taking into account the apocalypticism of Christianity. Apocalypse, Girard reminds us, "means revelation: apocalypto means to open up and to show the truth. But it also means absolute violence, so the apocalypse is a violent revelation and a revelation of violence" (Girard 1996). That the Revelation is a violent revelation has been well established. Despite textual evidence that would beg those who approach the text to do just the opposite, readers have fixated on the violence of the Revelation since its inception, finding in it God's final retribution against those who persecute the Church.1 Commentators such as Dennis E. Johnson, William Hendricksen, and George Elden Ladd have produced recent, full-length commentaries that champion the appearance of a Christ in Revelation ready to establish himself as a military champion and exact his revenge on those who persecute him (see, for example, Johnson 2001; Hendricksen 1998; and Ladd 1993). These accounts, and those that follow suit, are blinded by the violent revelation of John's apocalyptic narrative and fail to see the poem's revelation of violence—the other, prophetic half of what Girard rightly contends exists in Christian apocalypse.This error is understandable to some extent. Read in its own light and apart from the Gospel revelation as understood by those familiar with mimetic [End Page 99] theory, one has no hermeneutical principle for recognizing the end to which John is writing. The victims of the text can be ignored in the precise way that all victims are disregarded when the scapegoat mechanism functions properly. Such should not be the case in the Revelation, though, a text in which the scapegoat mechanism is exposed and pushed to its logical conclusions. John offers his reader a glimpse into the way this mechanism will function when all that is left is wall-to-wall violence, when one is left with only two alternatives: succumb to the mechanism and reciprocate its violence, or extricate oneself through nonreciprocation (and potentially die).In the margins of the violent revelation in John's apocalyptic vision, a revelation of violence emerges that can expose humankind's potential to annihilate itself and the mechanism with which it will do so. When read through the lens of mimetic theory, one discovers that John's narrative delivers a revelation of violence, an explicit naming and unmasking of the sacrificial mechanism that can capture for the reader not only the machinations of the sacrificial apparatus but one's own potential participation in it as well. As such, the poem can posit itself as a commandment (a Thou-shall-not-murder) that ultimately refuses the temptation to respond to violence in violence.The fact that John uses the apocalyptic to present this directive should not be surprising. Girard writes: "Only through the mediation of the scapegoat mechanism can violence become its own remedy, and the victimage mechanism can only be triggered by the frenetic paroxysm of the 'crisis.' This means that the violence, having lost its vitality and bite, will paradoxically be more terrible than before its decline. As the whole of humanity makes the vain effort to reinstate its reconciliatory and sacrificial virtues, this violence will without doubt tend to multiply its victims, just as happened in the time of the prophets" (Girard 1978, 195–96). While Girard's commentary on biblical eschatology and apocalypse refers mainly to the scapegoat mechanism as it applies to and is revealed in the Gospel texts, we see the immediacy and the frenzy of the apocalyptic and the ubiquitous violent mimetic appropriations also performed in John's Revelation.2 John captures... (shrink)