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As Consciousness Is Harnessed to Flesh: Journals and Notebooks, 1964-1980, by Susan Sontag
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This, the second of three volumes of Susan Sontag's journals and notebooks, begins where the first volume left off, in the middle of the 1960s. It traces and documents Sontag's evolution from fledgling participant in the artistic and intellectual world of New York City to world-renowned critic and dominant force in the world of ideas with the publication of the groundbreaking Against Interpretation in 1966.
As Consciousness is Harnessed to Flesh follows Sontag through the turbulent years of the 1960s―from her trip to Hanoi at the peak of the Vietnam War to her time making films in Sweden―up to 1981 and the beginning of the Reagan era. This is an invaluable record of the inner workings of one of the most inquisitive and analytical thinkers of the twentieth century at the height of her power. It is also a remarkable document of one individual's political and moral awakening.
- Sales Rank: #790996 in Books
- Published on: 2012-04-10
- Released on: 2012-04-10
- Original language: English
- Number of items: 1
- Dimensions: 8.44" h x 1.72" w x 5.97" l, 1.46 pounds
- Binding: Hardcover
- 544 pages
From Booklist
As in Reborn (2008), the first volume in the planned Sontag journals and notebooks trilogy, Sontag’s son, David Rieff, begins the second with a strikingly candid introduction. In the full-tilt, questioning, and expressive entries that follow, Sontag suffers epically over love and heartbreak in her relationships with women and her hasty marriage and grapples with haunting memories of her wounding childhood. Angst blooms repeatedly, followed by self-chiding for her emotional turmoil and an oft-repeated refrain, “I must be strong.” Toward her son, adoration flows unstintingly, however self-sustainingly. “One thing I know: if I hadn’t had David, I would have killed myself last year.” A champion list-maker, Sontag keeps track of books, movies, resolutions, even “qualities that turn me on.” Her journals accompany her all over the world as her stature rises. She writes incisively about the many remarkable writers, dancers, and artists she meets, and she is happiest recounting time spent with Joseph Brodsky. A truly moving and illuminating chronicle of the vital inner life of an exceptionally nuanced thinker and risk-taking artist coming into her full powers. --Donna Seaman
From Bookforum
Sontag is an enthusiast but not, properly speaking, a popularizer; she writes for the initiate, not the naif. The seduction of her sentences is their hardness and authority; they could never be accused of a light touch. She wears her learning like chain mail. —Christine Smallwood
Review
“Sontag's essays are arch, intransigent--so it is a rare pleasure to read, in her diary, discoveries being made in real time. She applies her mind to itself with enthusiasm . . . The overall portrait gained from these journals seems to be of an impossibly fractured author--but the diaries also remind us that Sontag the writer and Sontag the woman, inevitably, occupy the same territory, so that even when she is writing about culture, she is, in a sense, exploring herself . . [a] difficult, fascinating volume . . . As her diaries reveal with such intensity, she harnessed only a fraction of her mind to produce the writing we have seen until now; the rest is consciousness.” ―Emily Stokes, The Guardian
“In the three years since Reborn, the first volume of Susan Sontag's journals and notebooks, was published, at least three more books about the literary titan have appeared . . . [but] nothing compares with going to the source directly. The second of three volumes, As Consciousness Is Harnessed to Flesh, spans the years of Sontag's most prodigious output and her greatest intellectual influence, including the 1966 publication of her first volume of essays, the landmark Against Interpretation, and the equally influential Illness as Metaphor, a 1978 treatise inspired by her first bout with breast cancer.” ―Melissa Anderson, Newsday
“A powerful self-portrait gradually emerges. Sontag avoided personal writing, as Rieff explains; perhaps, he suggests, the diaries constitute ‘the great autobiographical novel she never cared to write' . . . the reader warms more to her through her sudden lists of appealing adjectives (‘besotted, cerulean, ogival') or her likes (‘Drums, carnations, socks, raw peas') and dislikes (‘television, baked beans, hirsute men') . . . a tribute by a scrupulous son to his difficult, gifted mother . . . In its fragmentation and incoherence and passion, its combination of the erudite and the everyday, it is more true to life, both intellectual and emotional, than the most artful novel or careful biography. It may well be that Sontag's diaries, like Virginia Woolf's (which she knew and admired) will come to be seen as just as brilliant and important as anything she wrote.” ―Anne Chisholm, The Telegraph
“That tormented Sontag is known to many, but she was not all Dark Lady. It's impossible to read these journals and not experience the warmer sides of her ambition: her deep admiration for certain artists around her, her animating wish to encourage and promote . . . Rieff designates the second volume as his mother's ‘political bildungsroman,' the record, as she put it, of ‘falling out of love with Communism.' Yet he chose to call this volume As Consciousness Is Harnessed to Flesh, a title pointing to her inner life rather than her political one. It is through this startling image, noted in a margin in May, 1965, that we today see the thirty-two-year-old Sontag awaken to her finitude: her life had to reach an end, just as consciousness is harnessed to flesh. But, then again, perhaps it isn't: language--which can capture and embody consciousness--lives on, and has its own fleshiness. As Sontag's hero, Roland Barthes, once wrote, ‘Language is a skin: I rub my language against the other. It is as if I had words instead of fingers, or fingers at the tip of my words. My language trembles with desire.' If anyone else's language trembles that way, as this volume of her journals attests, it is Susan Sontag's.” ―Emily Greenhouse, The New Yorker
“The Sontag that appears here is, at times, very different from the strident academic who polarises public opinion. She is anxious, self-deprecating and frequently heartbroken . . . As in the earlier volume of diaries, Reborn, in which Sontag wrote reminders to herself to wash, this collection brings a more fragile, neurotic side into view. And yet there is still much of the academic who did not suffer fools--or ‘Modernist-nihilist-wise-guy-bullshit'--gladly. Her lengthy analyses of her relationships are broken up with quotations from Wittgenstein, or counterpoised by reported conversations with Jasper Johns and Joseph Brodsky . . . She writes dozens of obsessive lists . . . each a reminder of her voraciously catholic interests . . . Over the course of the diary, a picture of a complicated, brilliant person emerges. A little like her criticism, her diary entries combine her interests with bright, aphoristic turns of phrase . . . these diaries are a reminder of the value of the work that made her great, and also mysterious--"partly (and forever)" escaping from view.” ―The Economist
“Consciousness is ultimately a very serious book, as it would have to be, as the record of the inner life of a renowned and resolutely serious person . . . It is a story of settling and unsettling, of restlessness and of trying to find a place to rest, of examining the parameters of adulthood, of questioning what it means to be a friend, a lover, a writer, an artist, a mother, a person in the world. ‘I have a wider range as a human being than as a writer. (With some writers, it's the opposite.) Only a fraction of me is available to be turned into art,' Sontag writes. If this is the case, then Consciousness is a presentation of the residue of Sontag, the part that is not art. It's life . . . At its best, [Consciousness] is Sontag turning her keen intellect onto the world and onto herself, practicing criticism in her architectural, adversarial, serious way . . . we should . . . be grateful for the dissemination of these notebooks, with their long stretches of self-analysis and their pops of insight.” ―Lisa Levy, Los Angeles Review of Books
“Sontag seems addicted to writing lists--of films she has seen, or would like to see, and of her extensive reading, including Thomas Mann, Walter Benjamin and Sigmund Freud. But there is plenty of deeper, psychological revelation. While, outwardly, she appeared formidably confident, her entries here show her to be riddled with doubt, anxiety and a fear of showing weakness . . . These often intense accounts of the inner life of a passionate, highly cultured intellectual woman are riveting.” ―Rebecca Wallersteiner, The Jewish Chronicle
Most helpful customer reviews
19 of 20 people found the following review helpful.
Valuable Collection
By Steiner
The second volume of Susan Sontag's collected journals is an extraordinary testament to her brilliance and devotion to the creative life. This volume presents the perhaps the most productive and significant phase of her career as she publishes the major essays that were to appear in Against Interpretation. Here we find a truly voracious artist and intellectual-a thinker struggling with the tumultuous events of her time and struggling to develop a unique voice. Of course, we are entitled to see her lists-lists of authors, of movies, endless lists cataloging the trajectory of her creative life. There are really great and moving passages here-passages of vulnerability and self-doubt. Her personal life emerges as fairly frought and precarious. I was also suprised to see a great paucity of entries detailing her battle with cancer. Her son, David Rieff, has edited this collection. His comments reduce her work to that of a political commentator. I do not fully agree with his judgment that the reflections and entries about her trip to Vietnam are wise and incisive. And her trajectory as a political thinker was actually rather average for her generation. Yet was remains here, I believe, was the life of a real intellectual and artist. A thinker who devoted her undeniable gifts to novels, stories, film, and among the greatest American essays in modern letters.
6 of 7 people found the following review helpful.
Susan Sontag was one of the great literary critics of the 20th century - a novelist
By C. Middleton
"Not Worthy"
Completed reading "As Consciousness is Harnessed to Flesh"- Journals & Notebooks - 1964-1980 by Susan Sontag. In most cases, find reviewing a text or film a natural act. Over the years have written hundreds of reviews without a second thought. Sitting down to write about Sontag leaves me humble and unworthy.
It was my second year at university where Sontag was introduced; the text: "Against Interpretation", a collection of essays that shot this intellectual into the spotlight revealing her depth of thought and original notions about literature art and philosophy. We were required to write a 2000 word essay on the text, her propositions and ideas concerning literary theory. Well, dug around my files and found "that" essay, believing it might help with the review. The paper yellowing with age and written with my then, trusty electric typewriter - received a "Distinction", equivalent to a "B"; after reading this piece after so many years, I laughed ! Thinking , 'Courage in youth', what did my professor see in this rubbish to give me a "B"? Ah the audacity of my youth! I was wrong, the old essay did not help one bit.
It's true: The older and more you know, one realizes, the less you know.
Susan Sontag was one of the great literary critics of the 20th century - a novelist, filmmaker, and mostly, a life-long student of politics, philosophy, art the written word.
Down the line, might write a review but, at this moment, feeling:
"... not worthy!"
A favourite:
"Intellectuals played at crusaders and revolutionaries only to discover they were all patricians and liberals. (As kids played at being urban guerrillas and settled for being punks.) "Liberalism" seems a vast, obscure, swampy territory one never emerges from, no matter how one tries - and perhaps never should."
A book to ponder.
Anyway...great read.
Craig Middleton
1 of 1 people found the following review helpful.
I think this volume, and its predecessor, are ...
By David B.
I think this volume, and its predecessor, are the only diaries I have ever read. It must nearly always be a thrill to see “the man behind the curtain” when reading diaries, and maybe especially in this case, given how carefully crafted Susan Sontag’s public writing and persona were. Before reading these volumes I was afraid they would confirm the impression given me from reading "Sempre Susan," by Sigrid Nunez, that Sontag lacked insight into herself and was psychologically kind of shallow. Both volumes roundly disconfirm this. I think her insights into herself were as incisive and penetrating as her cultural criticism was. There is an exquisitely rich, 20-something page analysis of her relationship with her mother somewhere in the middle of the second volume that is something to behold. It’s a little heartbreaking that such insight didn’t lead to greater peace of mind. In any case, I found these diaries exhilarating to read. Her language, gifts of metaphor, and laser sharp analysis are magical.
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