Plastic Bodies: Rebuilding Sensation After Phenomenology

Front matter

Plastic Bodies: Rebuilding Sensation After Phenomenology

‘Tom Sparrow

Plastic Bodies: Rebuilding Sensation After Phenomenology

Contents

Acknowledgments 9

Abbreviations 11 Foreword: After the Flesh by Catherine Malabou 13

Introduction 21 Post-Dualist Embodiment, with Some Theses on Sensation 25

Foreword

After the Flesh by Catherine Malabou Translated by Mark Allan Ohm and Joel Andrepont

The body becomes worthy of philosophical examination when it is no longer a question of the body but of my body. Husserl introduces a fundamental distinction between Körper, the objective, anatomico-physiological body, and Leib, one’s own body [le corps propre], the living body, the place of sensations and emotions, the “flesh.” This distinction marks a decisive development in his thinking and saves the body from being merely an object of conceptual devaluation. By rejecting the methods of descriptive psychology in order to establish a transcendental phenomenology, Husserl grants a constitutive role to the “flesh” as lived body. My body must be considered in its individuality, its incarnation or embodiment (Verleiblichung), which amounts to considering the living corporeal body [le vécu corporel] in the purity of its manifestation. My body is a token of my own immediate worldly presence; it presents to the mind what Husserl calls hyletic data (the body’s perceptual, sensory content, like touch, look, voice, kinaesthesia). In this way, the body becomes the worldly presence of an intentional subject’s mental life.

The phenomenological body stands in the sphere of immanence (the sensation that I have of my body’s immediate presence in the world), a sphere which, after the epoché, is reduced to the presence of the thing itself.

14 Catherine Malabou

Sensation means that the thing reveals itself in the flesh and stands there before our eyes as something given to itself and in actuality.

The Husserlian analyses of the living corporeal body once again mark a major advancement in the history of philosophy. As a result of these analyses, the body, quite simply, acquires a value equal to that of the mind. The mind is no longer separable from the flesh that it animates and which gives it corporeal spatiality.

We can therefore ask whether it is possible to go further in this recognition of the essential status of the incarnate body than phenomenology does. It seems not. Even researchers in the cognitive sciences and the philosophy of mind still draw from Husserl: Francisco Varela, Alva Noé, Evan Thompson, and Shaun Gallagher, to name but a few, situate their work within his direct lineage. Is the phenomenological approach to the body impossible to overcome?

In an incredibly daring gesture, Tom Sparrow responds in the negative, and attempts to clear the way for nothing less than a post-phenomenological approach to the body.

Sparrow is clearly well aware of the considerable debt that continental philosophy owes to phenomenology. Phenomenology made possible several claims about the body: that it is not the case that the body is the tomb of the soul, as Plato claimed; that it is not the case that the body is a neutral extension caught in the movement which animates it, as Descartes showed; and that the body is much more than the place of sensibility, as Kant defined it. In fact, the senses always grasp things as they are for the consciousness that perceives them. It is in this way that corporeal space acquires its identity within the general realm of extension [/’étendue générale]. Thus there is no a priori spatial body. Despite all of this, Sparrow writes: “T attempt to build a theory of embodiment that could only come after phenomenology.”

Why must we distance ourselves from the phenomenological approach to the body? Isn’t the notion of embodiment essential? Hasn’t it been used since in all the human sciences? Nonetheless, Sparrow maintains that we now need a “post-phenomenological perspective.” “By this,” he writes, “I mean a perspective which is not simply anti-phenomenological, but one

After the Flesh 15 which has gone through phenomenology and retained its kernel of truth, even if this kernel proves to be non-phenomenological in nature.”

The problem is the following: I just said that the phenomenological conception of the Leib made possible the de-objectification of the body. But this necessary de-objectification has been clearly accompanied by a de-materialization. If the flesh was essential as the future of the physical body, now we need to question the future of the flesh. For this reason, the materiality of the body must be rethought. Sparrow argues that the phenomenological flesh in fact lacks matter. We need to reconceptualize matter. How can we avoid lapsing into both the naturalization and neutrality of the body? How can we conceive of matter without reverting to mechanism? In order to properly distinguish matter from mechanism, we will call this post-phenomenological materiality plasticity. Plasticity is thus defined as that which comes after the flesh.

The task is therefore to rethink the union between the material and the meaningful, which “does not necessarily entail the reduction of the mind to the brain, or consciousness to synaptic/neural activity.” Nevertheless, it involves a rematerialization; sensation is the key to the process and will aid us in our understanding.

But first let us insist on an intermediary path. In order to examine the insufficiencies of the phenomenological concept of the flesh, Sparrow begins by pluralizing the theories of embodiment. In an entirely unexpected manner, he confronts the two extremes of the phenomenological specter: Merleau-Ponty and Levinas. They also criticized Husserl in their own way in the name of a certain materiality: “I see the aesthetics of Levinas and Merleau-Ponty as indispensable for reconciling a pluralistic conception of embodiment, even if ultimately the two thinkers hold incompatible metaphysical positions.” Comparing these two philosophers allows us to understand what their critiques of classical phenomenology fail to do in order to become a materialist phenomenology, a philosophical undertaking Sparrow proposes to provide the grounds for: “My own view of the body as plastic emerges through an exploration of the phenomenologies of Merleau- Ponty and Levinas, with whom I travel up to the point at which they no longer pursue the questions that I would like answered by a theory of embodiment.”

16 Catherine Malabou

Merleau-Ponty and “Reversible Bodies”

Husserl insisted that the models of Euclidean geometry were incompatible with the perception of the reality of one’s own body insofar as things are only represented in perception in the context of a geometry of surfaces. We can perceive neither the six faces of a cube nor the totality of our own body. Husserl argues that human perception includes the supplementary dimension of the infinite, including time in the perception of space (Riemannian space). In this way, the dynamics of a spatial body is integrated into perception itself. Thus, there is a perceptual creation of a dynamic image of the body, adding kinesthetic variations of the body of the thing to the dynamic image of our own movement in the spatial encounter. For example, if I walk toward a tree which is in my spatial field, the tree moves toward me just as much as I move toward it. We can therefore contrast this phenomenon, called a Riemannian image, with Euclidean perception.

For Merleau-Ponty, however, Husserl does not go far enough in grasping the interaction between body and world. Merleau-Ponty believes that his conception of the corporeal schema makes up for this lacuna. In the Phenomenology of Perception in particular, Merleau-Ponty himself makes use of the notion of plasticity. Plasticity is directly linked to being-in-the-world and to how the body develops its mediating role in the world. “[T]he ... subject penetrates into the object by perception, assimilating its structure into his substance, and through this body the object directly regulates his movements.”! Composed of habits, circuits, and sensorimotor schemata organized through sensory and comportmental experience, the corporeal schema already materializes the living body inasmuch as the latter can no longer distinguish its own flesh from that of the world.

The “reversible body” is both touching and touched, and the limit that separates a body from the world as well as from other bodies is, precisely, a plastic limit, that is, a malleable and pliable limit. Sparrow reminds us that: “By ‘reversible’ Merleau-Ponty means that at any moment the one who sees can become the one seen, or the one who touches can become the touched.” Merleau-Ponty completes the material liberation of the concept of intersubjectivity, which Husserl still considers in relation to one’s own selfhood [égoité].

After the Flesh 17

Despite all this, Sparrow argues that the corporeal schema still remains too personal [individuel], too anchored in an identity which can evolve, but which nevertheless remains what it is. In both Merleau-Ponty and Husserl, the integrity of one’s own body in a sense resists its transformation through the materiality of the world. Examples from pathology demonstrate this resistance. For Merleau-Ponty, illness engenders a loss of identity, that is, a loss rather than a transformation of plasticity: “In the patient the perceptual field has lost this plasticity. ... The world in its entirety no longer suggests any meaning to him and conversely the meanings which occur to him are not embodied any longer in the given world.”? The loss of plasticity entails a modification of the corporeal schema, this “system of equivalents ... whereby the different motor tasks are instantaneously transferable.”? Of course, this loss is at least partially compensated for in the illness. But, for Merleau-Ponty, it is clear that compensating plasticity is not as strong as the primary formative plasticity of being-in-the-world. The meaning that it confers is an accidental meaning, without autonomy, which effectively initiates no new modality of being-in-the-world. “Illness,” writes

Merleau-Ponty, is a complete form of existence and the procedures which

it employs to replace normal functions which have been destroyed are equally pathological phenomena. It is impossible to deduce the normal from the pathological, deficiencies from the substitute functions, by a mere change of the sign. We must take substitutions as substitutions, as allusions to some fundamental function that they are striving to make good, and the direct image of which they fail to furnish.*

Plasticity can thus be lost, and with it the integrity of the schema.

Levinas and “Susceptible Bodies”

Perhaps it is necessary to think that I am not in my body. Perhaps my body does not first say I, but you. Perhaps it characterizes itself in the first place by an absolute passivity through which the alterity of the flesh manifests itself to itself. Levinas maintains that “the subject cannot stay identical to itself.”

18 Catherine Malabou

Let us begin from Levinas’s critique of Husserl. Sparrow writes that “Levinas’s objection to phenomenological method is straightforward: if the objectifying acts of theoretical consciousness, what Husserl calls meaning-giving (Sinngebung) acts, are our primary mode of access to things, then those things can only appear to us as representations whose content is predetermined by the representing subject. In short, phenomenology becomes a modified transcendental idealism.”

It is therefore a matter of breaking with representation. For Levinas, the distinction between the body and objects of the world tends to blur, but also opens up a material dimension to sensation. For him, there is no corporeal schema strictly speaking, but a dwelling in others. In my home,

I am in the home of another. My furniture is hers. I am nourished by her presence, which is simultaneously inexhaustible. Passive joy [la jouissance de la passivité] is established on the horizon of desire. We could not know how to praise the striking beauty of the analysis of everydayness in Totality and Infinity, where nourishment, dwelling, and ornaments are described with as much ethical care and attention as are individuals. Everything is infinitely susceptible, and consequently, there is no totality [tout] but an infinity

of encounters.

Nonetheless, Levinas rejects the concept of plasticity. The other, he writes, is never what “appear[s] in plastic form as an image, a portrait.” Its beauty is this “supreme presence ... breaking through its plastic form with youth,”? which is why the other resists. Plasticity remains confined to the sculptural domain, bound to its function of embodiment or figuration in general, an enduring [attardée] function, always older than the face. The face, precisely, is not plastic; on the contrary, it can only “break through its own plastic image,”° “break up form.” It stands beyond form. It is a pure trace: “This existence abandoned by all and by itself, a trace of itself, imposed on me, assigns me in my last refuge with an incomparable force of assignation, inconvertible into forms [which] would give me at once a countenance.’®

While the appearance of the face, its “epiphany” always provokes an emotional and sensible overturning (for another as well as for me), this overturning is not based on a transformation but on an abrupt break [écart brusque] without material or physiological genesis: “The face of the Other

After the Flesh 19 at each moment destroys and overflows the plastic image it leaves me....”°

And this destruction is unimpeded [sans procès]: “The absolute experience is not disclosure but revelation: a coinciding of the expressed with him who expresses, which is the privileged manifestation of the Other, the manifestation of a face over and beyond form. Form— incessantly betraying its own manifestation, congealing into a plastic form, for it is adequate to the same—alienates the exteriority of the other.”!°

Is not this denial of plasticity Levinas’s admission of resistance to the materiality that he continually celebrates elsewhere? Behind this denial isn’t there the reaffirmation of the fleshly [charnel] character of the face, in the phenomenological sense of the term, with all the authenticity, spirituality, and invariability that this fleshly character entails?

Plasticity as the Future of the Flesh

Sparrow claims that “what is missing in [these views] is the practical or embodied dimension of sensation, or affirmation that it is sensation that delivers the materiality of the world to sensibility.” And later he writes that “instead of reversibility and susceptibility, my view features the plasticity of the body and argues that the dynamism of plasticity is more true to

the aesthetic dimension of existence as well as the transactional nature of intercorporeal encounters.”

How can we understand this new plasticity? How can we simultaneously understand this new “aesthetics,” which is presented here as both a theory of sensation and a theory of beauty?

In order to understand plasticity, we must begin from the plastic material, since it is plasticity which first necessitated its name. For Merleau-Ponty, the reversibility of touching-touched alludes to elasticity more than plasticity. “Plastic” refers to a material that cannot retrieve its original form once sculpted or molded. The plastic material retains the trace of its deformation. In this sense, plasticity inhibits reversibility. It also inhibits Levinasian susceptibility in the sense that the plastic is also an explosive material, which suspends the face-to-face encounter and assures its destructive violence of all alterity.

Of course, the flesh of the body and the flesh of the world are one.

Nevertheless, this unity owes as much to the matter of things of the world

20 Catherine Malabou as to the intentionality of the animate or incarnate body. Matter is also what destroys. Matter is also what has no body. Matter is also what forms the body precisely by contrasting the body with its objectality. Sparrow’s analyses of the body-matter couple are extraordinary in their beauty, evocative power, and precision.

A case in point is his analysis of architecture. Sparrow draws from Juhani Pallasmaa’s work, according to which “bodies adopt the structures of buildings in their skeletal structure and bodily sensations.” Another astonishing passage draws from Yukio Mishima, who described his experience of bodybuilding in Sun and Steel: “His body lives from, metabolizes the steel no less than the sun. His body engages organic and inorganic matter and, enacting an unnatural participation, converts both into muscle. ... The idea that Mishima metabolizes sun and steel is more than metaphor. His body is sculpted and polished by repetitive exposure to metal and solar energy. Sun and steel territorialize his body and augment his vitality.”

By taking up Merleau-Ponty’s notion of habit, staying in tune with Levinas’s hospitality, and recalling Husserl’s fascinating pages in Ideen II, Sparrow clears his own path, which consists in inserting mechanical parts, shards of metal, stones, and machines into the body of phenomenology.

Its plasticity delineates the space of a sensation and a sensibility that objectivizes the world by constructing it as one creates a work of art, a performance, an installation, or as one takes flight. Halfway between Husserl and Simondon, Merleau-Ponty and James, Levinas, Deleuze, and Dewey, Sparrow invites us to question this new dimension where the body is no longer the flesh. Plastic disembodiment is presented as a new economy of the sensible.

Here is not just another rehashing of the traditional division between the integrity of the phenomenological body, on the one hand, and its deconstruction, on the other. The incorporeal materials are neither signs nor symptoms nor immaterial things. We are beyond the difference between presence and the critique of metaphysics. It is no longer a matter of deciding between autoaffected and deterritorialized bodies.

The materialist phenomenology presented here is a rupture. A conservative rupture, of course, but a rupture nonetheless. A rupture in formation, like our bodies are.

Introduction

This is a book about embodiment, one of the cardinal themes of contemporary philosophy. This is also a book about phenomenology, which has done more than any other school to bring the body to the center of philosophical analysis. But this is not a book of phenomenology. While it draws liberally from the resources of phenomenology, the idea of embodiment assembled in its pages is quite often at odds with the first-person orientation of the phenomenological method. It is therefore as much about the limits of phenomenology as it is about the limits of the body.

In the last analysis it is really about how we might rebuild the somewhat unfashionable concept of sensation following the rescue attempts made by Maurice Merleau-Ponty and Emmanuel Levinas.

Phenomenology is a natural place to begin this project, but not the right place to end it. This is because sensation, as I understand it here, is unsuitable for proper phenomenological investigation. It does not present itself phenomenally as an object of consciousness, or as what Husserl calls an intentional object. Sensation is something that happens below the phenomenal level, so at best it is a mediated datum of consciousness. Both Merleau-Ponty and Levinas recognized this. How, then, can we speak of this non-phenomenal sensation? My contention is that we experience it primarily through its effects and can thereby think it on the basis of these effects. Perception, passion, cognition, consciousness, identity, and freedom are some of these effects. These are indeed accessed phenomenally, but as products of sensation. This is not to say that sensation is their efficient cause,

22 Introduction however. It is to say that sensation is their necessary condition. Sensation is thus an object as well-suited for speculation as it is for empirical analysis. Both Merleau-Ponty and Levinas explicitly opposed the latter, naturalistic, approach to sensation from the perspective of the former, and it is their perspective that I try to radicalize in this book.

To be clear: I am not attempting a phenomenology of sensation, and neither were Merleau-Ponty and Levinas. What I do is to take up their speculative remarks about sensation and develop these into a novel theory of embodiment, but one markedly more speculative than phenomenological. If I had to give a name to this project, I would call it a speculative aesthetics, although it certainly falls short of a comprehensive treatise. If its speculative dimension seems too programmatic, consider it a promise of future work. As it stands, it provides a constructive reading of the phenomenology of the body, but in the service of a non-phenomenological metaphysics.

Sensation is thus approached from two perspectives, the phenomenological and the speculative. A simple twofold argument is presented: sensation is the basic material of subjectivity; as such, sensation is responsible in a non-trivial way for the subject’s power to exist. In question throughout the text is the function and constitution of the aesthetic dimension of embodiment, specifically the autonomous reality of sensation (aisthesis) and the materiality of aesthetics. Insofar as this materiality operates on the body below the level of conscious reflection, which is to say, imperceptibly, it resists phenomenological analysis. Phenomenology indeed has much to teach us about what it is like to live through sensations, but a hybrid method that draws upon phenomenology while simultaneously exceeding it is required to circumscribe the concept of sensation. Methodologically speaking, I approach phenomenology historically, not as a practitioner. I do not proceed from the epoché or phenomenological reduction, nor do I adhere to any specific phenomenological principles or its correlationism. It seems to me that if one claims to be doing phenomenology, then there must be at least some principles (the reductions, eidetic variation, for instance) guiding one’s investigation. Otherwise, in what sense is it a method? As I have not identified and implemented any specific phenomenological principles, I cannot say that my view is the product of the phenomenological method. Instead, phenomenology

Introduction 23 appears here as an object of historical investigation and a tool for conceptual engineering.

Since I am primarily interested in how phenomenology fits into the history of embodiment, I do not conduct an exhaustive reading of the oeuvres of Merleau-Ponty and Levinas, nor do I perform a reconstruction of what their philosophies really strive to accomplish. The texts of phenomenology are taken up with the express aim of developing a theory of embodiment which takes sensation as its leading concept, something that cannot be done without looking carefully at the aesthetics of phenomenology. This entails an ambivalent reading of Merleau-Ponty. On the one hand, I draw liberally from his phenomenology of perception and the immense contribution he makes to the philosophy of embodiment and aesthetic theory. On the other hand, I insist on the basic immaterialism and anthropocentrism of his philosophy, which I attribute to his allegiance to phenomenology and non-Cartesian dualist ontology. As for Levinas, I admittedly read his work heretically. This simply means that I downplay his ethical program—which is, for many Levinasians, the essence of his philosophy—and emphasize instead his contribution to the metaphysics of embodiment, which is often overshadowed in the literature. Merleau-Ponty and Levinas set the stage for this book precisely because they inaugurate a renewal of the concept of sensation. But this renewal is not just the work of phenomenology; or, it cannot be completed by phenomenology. Both thinkers are also metaphysicians, and it is necessary to see how their respective (and in many ways univocal) responses to the history of philosophy square with what comes before and after them. My justification for calling them metaphysicians derives from the fact that they often make speculative claims that lack phenomenological evidence. Instead of seeing these claims simply as a breach of method, I take them as gestures toward an emergent philosophy of the body.

Naturally, it will be asked why I bother working through phenomenology at all. The reason is again historical. It is certainly true that the presuppositions—or purported lack thereof—of phenomenology and the other currents of twentieth-century philosophy diverge significantly. There are, however, more points of contact between phenomenology and, say,

Deleuze and Spinoza, than usually acknowledged by partisan readings of

24 Introduction the history of twentieth-century French philosophy. While I do think that readers must at the end of the day make some decisions about the relative merits of Merleau-Ponty and Foucault, or Levinas and Deleuze, to see their respective projects as mutually exclusive is to ignore the common history of their inquiries and to simplify a complex relationship.

The kind of philosophy undertaken here could not have occurred before phenomenology turned to the body. Philosophers were thinking about and analyzing bodies before the twentieth century, of course, but their concerns were often quite different from those debated in the last century. For instance, where early modern philosophers like Leibniz and Spinoza were eager to determine the metaphysical constitution of individual bodies and, indeed, ask whether or not individuals actually exist, contemporary thinkers of embodiment are primarily concerned with how the body informs knowledge acquisition, gender and racial identity, or intersubjectivity. Embodiment is now thoroughly incorporated into almost all the human sciences and phenomenology has been integral to this incorporation. It has even gained ground with analytic philosophers. What is called for now, however, is a post-phenomenological perspective. By this I mean a perspective which is not simply anti-phenomenological, but one which has gone through phenomenology and retained its kernel of truth, even if this kernel proves to be non-phenomenological in nature. For me, this is the truth of plasticity.

Therefore, I attempt to build a theory of embodiment that could only come after phenomenology. But I also retrieve a pre-phenomenological, occasionally pre-critical perspective, one which draws liberally from the materialist and empiricist traditions to see what effects they can produce today. In this respect this book is a work of metaphysics. It does not claim to have invented a brand new theory of the body, but to have mobilized several philosophical traditions and rebuilt the body using a diverse team of thinkers.

Chapter 1

Like a clever thief hidden inside a house, breathing quietly, waiting until everyone’s asleep. I have looked deep inside myself, trying to detect something that might be there. But just as our consciousness is a maze, so too is our body. Everywhere you turn there’s darkness, and a blind spot. Everywhere you find silent hints, everywhere a surprise is waiting for you.

Murakami, What I Talk About When I Talk About Running

Problem and Method

Most of us experience our bodies daily as supported and resisted by the features of our environment—the solid earth, the smooth surfaces of our homes, the climate-controlled rooms we work and play in. A wooden chair supports my weight as I type, a woolen duvet insulates me while I sleep. This point can be put in grander terms, as Glen Mazis has: “On an immediate level, we feel as though the earth is still. On a deeper level, we feel held

by an embracing earth. It actively holds onto us, giving us the weight to walk, work, and love. The earth is not just inert, but a protector actively engaged with us.”'! Occasionally we are given over to the realization that the spaces we move through possess the power to overwhelm or destroy us.

The violence may surface from within as an untamed passion, or as a chance affliction or retraction of the environment’s material support. César Aira’s An Episode in the Life of a Landscape Painter allegorizes the possibility in this description of a lightning strike:

What happened next bypassed his senses and went straight into his nervous system. In other words, it was over very quickly; it was pure action, a wild concatenation of events. The storm broke suddenly with a spectacular lightning bolt that traced a zig-zag arc clear across the sky. ... The thunder crashing down impossibly enveloped him in millions of vibrations. The horse began to turn beneath him. It was still turning when a lightning bolt struck him on the head. Like a nickel statue, man and beast were lit up with electricity. For one horrific moment, regrettably to be repeated, Rugendas witnessed the spectacle of his body shining. !”

Certain bodily transformations never present themselves phenomenally. Or they do, but only after they have happened, like an afterimage whose original image is forever lost. They affect us unwittingly, spontaneously causing a malfunction or disablement of the body that consciousness never directly witnesses. Common among these events is death, which, as Epicurus teaches, “is nothing to us, for that which is dissolved is without sensation; and that which lacks sensation is nothing to us.”!? Epicurus may be right about our experience of death, but I hope to show that he is wrong about corpses. Sensation, I will claim, is something undergone by animate and inanimate bodies alike, but it is undergone in such a way that we tend to forget it ever happened or that it is happening at every moment. Death, too, is happening at this very moment—for most of us, so imperceptibly that we only regard ourselves as living bodies.

No one will deny that environments impact identities. Home, school, work, and travel accumulate in us. The familiar, the public, the common become us. That we are where we come from is a truth readily affirmed by everyone. How does this happen? The present book provides a response to this question by investigating the promises and limits of phenomenology for conceptualizing the nature of bodies and their relation to the environment.

Principally it asks: What individuates a body? What constitutes its structural integrity? Of what is the body capable? These questions are answered both indirectly and directly through collaborative and critical engagements with Merleau-Ponty and Levinas, both of whom offer in their analyses

of sensation and sensibility directives rooted in, and gesturing beyond,

the subjectivity of the “lived body.” Since sensation is not often featured in phenomenological discussions, and because sensation, I contend, is necessary for conceiving both the activity and passivity of the body, its legitimacy as a philosophical concept is also defended. The turn to sensation in Merleau-Ponty and Levinas marks a significant departure from the residual idealism of Husserlian phenomenology—indeed, from the history of philosophy after Kant. In a sense, then, what I attempt here is a rescue of sensation from its devastation at the hands of the Critical philosophy. Phenomenology, I try to demonstrate, gets this rescue off the ground.

Sensation’s revitalization has ontological and practical consequences that are nascent in phenomenology, but which cannot be fully captured by phenomenological analyses beholden to constructivist epistemology and aligned with anti-realist metaphysics. Therefore, I will eventually break with Merleau-Ponty and Levinas to deploy a realist metaphysics of sensation, one which thinks the body as a shining spectacle charged with forces uncontrived by eye or mind.