《解构：理论与实践/外国文学研究文库·第三辑》： Derrida's arguments are largely based on a single brief excerpt-'The Writing Lesson' - from Levi-Strauss's book Tristes Tropiques （1961）.Here the anthropologist sets out to analyse the emergence of writing and its consequences among a tribe （the Nambikwara） whose transition to 'civilization' he describes with undisguised feelings of sadness and guilt. He records how the motives of olitical power （'hierarchizacion， the economic function ... participation in a quasi-religious secret'） manifested themselves in the earliest responses to written language. Levi-Strauss gives expression， like Rousseau， to an eloquent longing for the lost primordial unity of speech-before-writing. He takes upon himself the burden of guilt produced by this encounter between civilization and the 'innocent' culture it ceaselessly exploits. For Levi-Strauss， the themes of exploitation and writing go naturally together， as do those of writing and violence. Derrida's answer is not to deny the inherent 'violence' of writing， nor yet to argue that it marks a stage of irreversible advance beyond the 'primitive' mentality. On the one hand he points out that the Nambikwara， on Levi-Strauss's own evidence， were already subject to a tribal order marked 'with a spectacular violence'. Their social intrigues and rituals of power are in manifest contrast to the retrospective feelings of the anthropologist， who elsewhere presents an idealized picture of their tranquil and harmonious society. Moreover， as Derrida argues， this suggests that writing is always already a part of social existence， and cannot be dated from the moment when the anthropologist， that guilty spectator， introduced its merely graphic conventions. In truth， there is no such pure 'authenticity' as Levi-Strauss （like Rousseau） imagines to have been destroyed by the advent of writing in this narrow sense. 'Self-presence， transparent proximity in the face-to-face of countenances...this determination of authenticity is therefore classic... Rousseauistic but already the inheritor of Platonism' （Derrida 1977a， p. 138）. From this point it is possible for Derrida to argue that the violence of writing is there at the outset of all social discourse； that in fact it marks 'the origin of morality as of immorality'， the 'non-ethical opening of ethics'. Thus Derrida's critique of Levi-Strauss follows much the same path as his deconstructive readings of Rousseau and Saussure. Once again it is a matter of taking a repressed or subjugated theme （that of writing）， pursuing its various textual ramifications and showing how these subvert the very order that strives to hold them in check. Writing， for Levi Strauss， is an instrument of oppression， a means of colonizing the primitive mind by allowing it to exercise （within due limits） the powers of the oppressor. In Derrida's reading this Theme of lost innocence is seen as a romantic illusion and a last， belated showing of the Rousseauist mystique of origins. 'Writing' in Levi-Strauss's sense is a merely derivative activity which always supervenes upon a culture already 'written' through the forms of social existence. These include the codes of naming， rank， kinship and other such systematized constraints. Thus the violence described by Levi-Strauss presupposes， 'as the space of its possibility， the violence of the arche-writing， the violence of difference， of classification， and of the system of appellations' （ibid.， p.110）. This latter has to do with the function of names in Nambikwara society， their significance and mode of designation. Levi-Strauss offers a casual anecdote about some children who took out their private animosities by each revealing the other's name in a round of mutual revenge. Since the Nambikwara， according to Levi-Strauss， place strict prohibitions on the use of proper names， this episode becomes symbolic of the violence that intrudes upon preliterate cultures when their language gives way to promiscuous exchange （or writing）. Derrida counters with evidence-again from Levi-Strauss's own text-that these were not， in fact， 'proper names' in the sense the anecdote requires， but were already part of a 'system of appellation'-a social arrangement - which precludes the idea of personal possession. The term 'proper name' is itself improper， so the argument runs， because it carries an appeal to authentic， individuated selfhood. What is really involved is a system of classification， a designated name which belongs to the economy of socialized 'difference' and not to the private individual. ……
