Derrida is amazingly difficult to understand at points, at others less so. What has become clear (!) to me is that Derrida is not for an unconstrained, undetermined free-play of meanings, but simply has a more-complicated-than-usual view of the context of meaning-making. An important role is played by what he calls the language police:
But there are, first of all, several ways of invoking or of specifying the rules. There are ‘theoretical’ grammarians, linguists, and jurists who state, describe, explain the norm without insisting upon its application, at least is immediate application, by force (physical or symbolic). Other functions consist in eliciting respect for the law and in disposing of a force deemed legitimate to this end. These two types of function, these two ways of ‘fixing’ rules and also, to take up your expression again, of ‘fixing’ the ‘contexts of utterances,’ bring together in a single person the theoretician of right [droit], the legislator (the inventor or first signatory of a constitution himself, or those in whose name he claims to act), and the executive power. (Limited Inc, 134-135)
There are, thus, interpretive police for all language, constraining its meaning. Derrida even goes on to provide a concrete example!
But every institution destined to enforce the law is a police. An academy is a police, whether in the sense of a university of the Académie Française, whose essential task is to enforce respect for and obedience to [faire respecter] the French language, to decide what ought to be considered ‘good’ French, etc. (135)
So at last, I continue to be persuaded that Derrida is not an obscurantist terrorist, but simply a critical idealist of a deeply Enlightenment sort, even where or especially when he is calling this tradition into question.
I am becoming increasingly convinced that Derrida must be read as a critical realist, not as some pernicious denier of truth or purveyor of “creative anti-realism” or “cheerful nihilism.” Derrida himself bluntly denies the claim: “I am shocked by the debate around this question of relativism [....] If I want to pay attention to the singularity of the other, the singularity of the situation, the singularity of language, is that relativism? If I say that there is the English and the French language and I have to pay attention to these differences, is the attention paid to these differences relativism? [....] I take into account differences, but I am no relativist” (Hospitality, Justice and Responsibility, 78, 79). Perhaps there is a better way to read him, to read him closely, as Derrida himself would wish?: “So this charge against me amounts to obscurantism, and is issued by people who don’t read” (79).
Pete Rollins has an excellent couple of posts over at his (new) blog on the nature of forgiveness, as forgiving the unforgivable. Find them here and here.
Starting a little work on Jacques Derrida, I’ve just read his moving funeral oration for fellow philosopher Emmanuel Lévinas, titled “Adieu.” Derrida’s reflections are too profound to do them justice, but I’ll provide a little snippet here:
One day, on the rue Michel Ange, during one of those conversations whose memory I hold so dear, one of those conversations illuminated by the radiance of his thought, the goodness of his smile, the gracious humor of his ellipses, he said to me: “You know, one often speaks of ethics to describe what I do, but what really interests me in the end is not ethics, not ethics alone, but the holy, the holiness of the holy.” And I then thought of a singular separation, the unique separation of the curtain or veil that is given, ordered and ordained, by God, the veil entrusted by Moses to an inventor or an artist rather than to an embroiderer, the veil that would separate the holy of holies in the sanctuary. And I also thought of how other Talmudic Lessons sharpen the necessary distinction between sacredness and holiness, that is, the holiness of the other, the holiness of the person, who is, as Emmanuel Lévinas said elsewhere, “more holy than a land, even a holy land, since, faced with an affront made to a person, this holy land appears in its nakedness to be but stone and wood.”
Here’s an interesting blog post on Derrida’s deconstruction of justice and how it relates to Paul’s doctrine of justification by faith. It’s heavily academic—as that last sentence shows—but if you can bear it, it’s very interesting. This presents another possible route to bypassing ways of talking about justification that abstract it from the transformation (or sanctification) of the individual.