Structuralism made
it possible to see philosophical systems as all insisting on a center. The
assumption that the center (God, rationality) is the basis or origin for all
things in the system makes the center irreplaceable and special, and gives the
center what Derrida calls "central presence" or "full
presence," i.e. something never defined in relation to other things, by
negative value.
Then he names the idea of a center as a "transcendental signified"--in semiotic terms, the ultimate source of meaning, which cannot be represented (or substituted) by any adequate signifier. Again, the idea of God is probably the best example of a transcendental signified. God can't be represented by any signifier, yet God is the thing that all signifiers in a system ultimately refer to (because God created the whole system).
Then Derrida starts to wonder about how we can think
and talk about systems and centers, without making a new system with a center.
He mentions here Nietzsche, Freud, and Heidegger as all trying to do this, and
failing to some extent because they all posited their own new systems (with
centers).
His example is to think about the concept of
"sign"--as soon as you try to say that all signs are equal, that
there is no transcendental signified that holds any semiotic system together,
that signifying systems have no centers, and that therefore all signs have
infinite play, or infinite ranges of meaning, you have to say that the only way
you can even talk about signs is by using the word "sign", and
assuming it has some fixed meaning. And then you're back in the system you're
trying to "deconstruct."
Derrida starts talking about the idea of
"totalization". Totalization is desire to have a system, a theory, a
philosophy, that explains EVERYTHING. The Puritans thought they had totalizing
system--God is at the center, is the source and origin of everything, and
reference to God explains everything that happens. Derrida says that
totalization is impossible: no philosophy or system explains absolutely
everything.
“Totalization
is…. at one time as useless, at another time as impossible”.
There are two ways in which totalization is
impossible: there might be too much to say, too many things to account for; or
(Derrida's explanation) there might be too much play in the system--elements
can't be fixed and measured and accounted for. Think again about the
kindergarten class. Totalization would be taking attendance; you can't do it if
there are a million kids, even if they're all sitting at their desks. You also
can't do it if there are 14 kids all running around all over the place.
It is finite language which excludes totalization as
language is made up of infinite signifier and signified functioning
inter-changeably and arbitrarily, thereby opening up possibilities for infinite
play and substitution. The field of language is limiting, however, there cannot
be a finite discourse limiting that field.
The center, while it holds the whole structure
together, limits the movement of the elements in the structure--this movement
is what Derrida calls "play." Think again of a building. A central
shaft may hold all the wings and floors of a building together, limiting how
much the structure as a whole, and any single element, can move--say, in a
tornado or hurricane. In a building, this lack of "play" is good. In
a philosophical or signifying system, Derrida says, it's not so good.
When a system lacks
a center, play becomes infinite; when a system has a center, play is limited or
eliminated. All systems fall on a continuum between the two.
Stability--fixity caused by center--is what Derrida
calls "presence." Something is fully present when it's stable and
fixed, not provisional and mobile. Play is the disruption of presence.
There can be two attitudes toward the idea of play
as disruption of system/structure: nostalgia and disapproval or approval. You
can be nostalgic for fixed systems, and long for a return to simple beliefs
(say, in God), and can mourn the loss of fixity of meaning. Or you can play
along, rejoice in multiplicity and affirm the provisional nature of all
meaning. This latter attitude doesn't look for full presence, which would be
rest and stability, but revels in flux, in impermanence, in play. Think of the
kindergarten teacher who either weeps in frustration because her kids won't
behave or who gets down on the floor and starts playing with them. Obviously,
Derrida thinks enjoying play is better (and there are political ideas attached
to this; they will come up later on).