Jacques Derrida died. Now he begins his own process of sur-vivre. Finally, an age has really come to an end. I remember very well; I learned of Foucault's death in Salvador, Brazil. That of Deleuze in Tucson, Arizona. And Derrida's in Tokyo. And this came as the least surprising, as we all knew that he was very ill.
The only surprising death was died by Deleuze. I uttered a little "No!" on opening the newspaper one morning, and my then five-year old son came out of his room, saying, "Daddy, I hear a cry of anguish!" (verbatim). But, after all these years, what have I learned from them?
Hasumi Shigehiko's book Foucault, Deleuze, Derrida initiated all of us, back in the late 1970s, to these authors. It's a wicked book; it after all predicted the order of death of these three thinkers!
No mourning necessary. Let's read them anew. I will. Two words for Jackie.
