The Author Has a Social Life: Roland Barthes and Evangelion
This is an article i wish to trumpet from the hills, or make massive leaflets and distribute them across a city. Fantastic marxist critique of the death of the author.
Unlike most living authors, I have at one point been dead. I don’t mean that at one point I was composed of nonliving stardust floating in the ether rather than organic meat parts. I mean that for a considerable period I was dead and living in tiger heaven, then in hell with the hungry ghosts. Surely, if anyone is entitled to argue for the “death of the author” it should be yours truly. I wrote much of my best work while dead, as a matter of fact, and met my lovely companion Mr. Harold Zo while technically lifeless. All the same, I notice that most people compose works of literature while alive. Dead people don’t tend to have the time or energy to blog, or the creative spark you need to make a splash in the literary world. I suppose a dead person could be a critic, but no one…
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