A turning not away but toward death, when the self looks its absolute other dead in the face, withdraws the absolute other from the categories of abstract negation (“it is nothing”) and its representation (“It is false”), and instead dismembers the very principle of the self itself. Here the I and the text become fragmented and different, heterogeneous, like the rising and setting sun, the irruption of madness in creativity, the tearing away of a finger, the rise and fall of Icarus.


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