Popular Culture Review Vol. 23, No. 2, Summer 2012 | Page 10

6 Popular Culture Review a form of narcissism that will inevitably lead to psychological imbalance. The only healthy thing to do once someone dies is to stop loving her. The problem is that the dead are always still present—and thus seemingly ready to accept our love. Phenomenologically, we experience people long after they are dead. It is something Freud never addressed, but when we actually look at our experience, the dead are always present: they are presenced, precisely, as absent. In this way, it still seems possible to love them. What is at work here is what Edmund Husserl called “the play of presence of absence.” When we investigate the underlying structures of consciousness we discover that mind is always dire cted at something, and that something is always a whole. This is an important point that most American and British epistemologists are still not keen on accepting. For them, it seems as if only one side of an object is visible at any given time and thus the true object of consciousness is thus at best merely a surface of an object from a single vantage point. As you look before you as you read this essay, you see the page as it sits in the bound journal. It seems you can only see the journal from one angle right now, and thus the object of your consciousness must be the-ffont-of-thisparticular-page-in-the-joumal. However, phenomenology calls on us actually to look at our experience rather than reason abstractly about it. And when you look at our experience of the journal, you will find that you are experiencing—you are conscious of— a whole object and not some fa$ade, some two-dimensional surface. In fact, if you truly thought that you were seeing just the front of things all around you now, if you thought that you were living in some sort of elaborately constructed movie-set, there would be good reason to worry about you and your brain. Instead, it is the case that we actually do experience whole things around us; but how does this happen if all we ever physically see with our eyes are profiles and surfaces? The answer is to be had in understanding the way in which consciousness itself is structured. We are capable of experiencing something that is, in some sense, absent. And this experience is not a lack, a non-experience, or a negation. Instead, it is an actual, full experience: a presence of that which is absent. You are thus experiencing the journal as a whole object right now. You can see the current page as present, but you are simultaneously experiencing all of the rest of the journal as presently-absent, as there-too, as apperceived rather than directly perceived. The back cover is being experienced right now—it is immediately taken as that which could be fully present if you just turned the journal over and took a look. And it is thus that presence and absence are always at work in consciousness. It is a small step to say that the dead are thus still present for us. This is meant to be taken in a literal way, though not in the sense that there are literal ghosts. It is true that Derrida’s notion of “the spectre” and “the trace” are coming out of this phenomenological tradition. The claim that there is no such thing as a complete erasure, that there are always traces in a text both of what has been negated and what is necessarily working to undermine the text as it