The Visible and the Invisible / Maurice Merleau-Ponty

Left with a consciouness that is a void which has the capacitiy for receiving the plentitude of the world - “Being”. The world is being and I am nothing (52) - But they are in fact two sides of the same coin. The being is the thing itself and I am 'nothing' - so the being is a negation, a 'negintuition' of nothingness (understanding the nothing intuitively as the negative of everything). A 'negentropy' In order to rid ourselves of notions such as thought, subject and ego, there cannot be anything 'positive' that defines us. That would be to reintegrate outselves into being. The nothingness is a 'fissure that deepens in the exact measure that it is filled'. Because 'being' is ephemeral, and can be replaced by another 'this' (Maybe this refers to relality vs imaginary?), then it implies that there is an emptiness and nothingness on the other side, that can 'contain' it. Each 'being' is a 'displacement' of other past or future 'beings', not the negation of them, so in reality the fissure is deeper than what fills it. * Sartre quote that I don't understand. (54) - But should refer to Sartr'e definitions:

  1. Being-in-itself: refers to objects in the external world — a mode of existence that simply is. It is not conscious so it is neither active nor passive and harbors no potentiality for transcendence. This mode of being is relevant to inanimate objects, but not to humans, who Sartre says must always make a choice
  2. Being-for-itself (être-pour-soi): The nihilation of Being-in-itself; consciousness conceived as a lack of Being, a desire for Being, a relation of Being. The For-itself brings Nothingness into the world and therefore can stand out from Being and form attitudes towards other beings by seeing what it is not.

Back to Merleau-Ponty, there's no pre-reflective cogito, there's no subject - What am I? I am the negation of this consciousn experience of 'things'. I am nothing. My identtiy that is my thoughts, my body - those are only at a close distance to the nihalted self. Exterior being. The world being is a prelongation of the body. Coextensive with consciousness.

People are never tired of saying that man is but a minute
speck on the face of the earth, the earth a speck in the
universe. Yet, even physically, man is far from merely occupy-
ing the tiny space allotted to him, and with which Pascal
himself was content when he condemned the “thinking reed”
to be, materially, a reed and nothing more. For if our body is
matter for our consciousness, it is co-extensive with our con-
sciousness, it comprises everything we perceive, it reaches as
far as the stars. But this vast body is changing continually,
sometimes radically, at the slightest, shifting of one part of
itself which is at its centre and occupies a small fraction of
space. This inner and central body, relatively invariable, is
ever present. It is not merely present, it is operative: it is
through this body, and through it alone, that we can move
other parts of the large body. And, since action is what
matters, since it is an understood thing that we are present
where we act, the habit has grown of limiting consciousness
to the small body and ignoring the vast one.

Indeed, Merleau-Ponty goes on to ask the obvious question regarding whether the Sartrean “solution” really does justice to the alterity or “oth- erness” of the other: he suggests that “this agnosticism in regard to the other’s being for himself, which appeared to guarantee his alterity, sud- denly appears as the worst of infringements upon it” (VI: 79). In other words, Sartre is accused of an agnosticism in regard to the other because he ignores our inherence in Being and because he ignores the way in which otherness is always intertwined with subjectivity. Sartre posits a radical singularity, a void of nothingness that can have no content, and he argues that given this situation the Other should not be theorized except in relation to its effects on the self. In his own way then, Sartre very much wants to preserve the alterity of the Other, despite what theorists such as Levinas have suggested about him. But Merleau-Ponty insists that speaking only of oneself, just like speaking for everybody, also misses an aspect of our experience and he insists that the respect shown for the other’s alterity is only apparent. In the end, Sartre “makes of the other an anonymous, faceless obsession, an other in general” (VI: 72). And Sartre does seem to have no notion of a specific Other, but only this faceless, untouchable Other, who is absolutely transcendent. Indeed, the Other for Sartre is almost a God, which might explain his consistent capitalizing of the term. For Merleau-Ponty, this positing of a faceless, anonymous other is far from the best way to respect the other and nor is it necessary.

For a philosophy that is installed in pure vision, in the aerial view of the panorama, there can be no encounter with another: for the look dominates; it can dominate only things, and if it falls upon men it transforms them to puppets which move only by springs. From the heights of the towers of Notre Dam, I cannot, when I like, feel myself to be on equal footing with those who, enclosed within those walls, there minutely pursue incomprehensible tasks. High places attract those who wish to look over the world with an eagle-eye view. Vision ceases to be solipsist only up close, when the other turns back upon me the luminous rays in which I had caught him, renders precise that corporeal adhesion of which I had a presentiment in the agile movements of his eyes, enlarges beyond measure that blind spot I divined at the center of my sovereign vision, and, invading my field through all its frontiers, attracts me into the prison I had prepared for him and, as long as he is there, makes me incapable of solitude.

From time to time, a man lifts his head, sniffs, listens, considers,
recognizes his position: he thinks, he sighs, and, drawing his
watch from the pocket lodged against his chest, looks at the time.
Where am I? and What time is it?
such is the inexhaustible question turning from us to the world.

“The visible can thus fill me and occupy me only because I who see it do not see it from the depth of nothingness, but from the midst of itself; I the seer am also visible. What makes the weight, the thickness, the flesh of each color, of each sound, of each tactile texture, of the present, and of the world is the fact that he who grasps them feels himself emerge from them by a sort of coiling up or redoubling, fundamentally homogeneous with them; he feels that he is the sensible itself coming to itself and that in return the sensible in his eyes as it were his double or an extension of his own flesh.”

Meaningful experience itself depends upon a “deflection,” a difference. Noncoincidence is not an alienation,
but a condition for meaning and the appearance of anything at all. The body and language are not, he tells us, “screens” over Being, preventing us from grasping the real goods, but are the differences which are productive of meaningful experience. In fact, body and language are not transcendental or anthropocentric conditions foisted upon being, but rather the very differentiations of experienced being itself, its own conditions of appearance, its own “syntax”.