6th October 2011
Quote reblogged from A la recherche du temps perdu with 98 notes
Literature is that neuter, that composite, that oblique into which every subject escapes, the trap where all identity is lost, beginning with the very identity of the body that writes.
Roland Barthes, “The Death of the Author”
(via proustitute, bookoflead)
Tagged: bodiesliteraturewritingroland barthesquotethe death of the authoridentity
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