Masculine Subject (Luce Irigaray)

 

 

Irigaray's philosophical undertaking revolves extensively around reimagining the relationships between women and men within a framework of sexual difference, treating both as autonomous subjects. Consequently, it becomes apparent that sexual difference, later reformulated as sexuate difference in Irigaray's later texts, provides a rich framework for delving into the complexities of masculinities and male bodies. In this discussion, I will explore the implications of Irigaray's critical project for the understanding of male bodies and the formation of masculine subjectivity.

 

Irigaray's work prompts us to approach men and their bodies from a radically different conceptual perspective, one where the feminine and female bodies resist being consumed, devalued, or defined solely in masculine terms. In essence, Irigaray proposes that men should cultivate a distinct mode of thinking and living within their own bodies, contributing to the construction of the world on their own terms without subsuming or appropriating the experiences of 'others'. This fundamental idea underscores why, for Irigaray, it is inconceivable to position herself in a man's standpoint or to presume to think or speak on his behalf.

 

Irigaray also implies a reconsideration of men's positions and lived experiences concerning their own bodies and their relationships with women, language, and the world. One facet of her philosophy involves urging men to critically examine their connection to the constructed and projected notion of 'humanity,' a construct predominantly shaped by men themselves. Since Irigaray contends that true humanity is yet to be realized, she advocates cultivating the limit—a concept she borrows from Heidegger—as part of her reevaluation of relationships between men and women.

 

Rejecting the artificial construct of humanity, which she sees as a masculine fiction dictating the notion of what a human being is, Irigaray proposes a return to the reality of sexuate difference as a transformative foundation for the universal. For men, this entails the task of cultivating the limit, embracing the finitude of their gendered embodied presence in the world and their male embodiment in relation to women's bodies and the world. This shift prompts men to recognize that they do not represent the entirety of the universal and the world. Consequently, men are urged to reconsider the journeys they undertake in and through the world, recognizing the need for a fundamental reevaluation.

 

In her "In the Beginning, She Was," Irigaray revisits the Heideggerian concept of the 'path' in connection to her critique of Western male culture characterized by estrangement and an outward rush to construct a world that eventually supplants individuals. Running parallel to this cultural trajectory is the concept of 'return'—a notion Irigaray reworks in dialogue with Nietzsche—specifically, the impossibility of returning home, to oneself. To address the crisis of man's identity, she proposes a dual return, both bodily and culturally, advocating for a rediscovery of almost forgotten meanings within Greek culture that could offer an alternative path and journey for men.

 

This return to oneself, this self-affection, particularly for man, is intricately linked to a sense of oneness, rooted in the undifferentiated connection with the maternal world and the dream world constructed in the absence of a cultivated relationship with the mother.

 

Irigaray suggests that the first step in this new journey of male masculine subjective formation involves a cultivation that starts with reimagining the relationship with the mother in bodily and affective terms. For instance, in works like "Sexes and Genealogies" and "I Love to You," Irigaray critiques the male imaginary and its symbolic expressions for negating the mother's body and reproductive power, the primary nurturing space, and the maternal relationship to the child. She argues that (male) language appropriates female puissance, sexuality, and desire, with the phallus symbolically replacing the umbilical cord, establishing the primacy of the castration complex in relation to the original separation from the mother.

 

Irigaray's constructive move is to propose morphological locations for rethinking man's imaginary in terms of affirming female bodies: a) the navel as a tribute place and scar memory for the primary bond and home with the mother (the umbilical cord, placenta, and womb), and b) a radical reinterpretation of the phallic erection as the masculine version of the umbilical cord, not as an all-powerful appropriating signifier, but rather as a repetition of the 'living bond to the mother' out of respect for 'the life of the mother.'

Consequently, in the context of men, Irigaray's thoughts on masculine morphology can be further elucidated through various dimensions. One avenue involves a reconsideration of how men relate to their own sexuate bodies, steering toward a radically different male imaginary that diverges from the prevalent phallic heteronormative representations of male bodies. Moreover, men are urged to reassess their relationship with the mother and her body, aiming for a representation of this connection that departs from traditional cultural norms.

 

Given the construction of male subjectivity through the cultivation of an interiority via language, there arises a necessity for linguistic transformations. This entails reshaping language to include the cultivation of male desire and self-affection through a novel mode of speech. Consequently, for men, both in bodily and cultural dimensions, the trajectory of one's path and the return to oneself, serving as the foundational conditions for that path, emerge as essential aspects. These aspects are integral to collaborative efforts with women in cultivating a cultural space that embraces a 'real' sexuate difference.