Nine Letters from Gilles Deleuze to Clément Rosset*

Introduced by Clément Rosset

I became acquainted with Deleuze during the first semester of 1961. Curiously, it was
he who approached me. I was a young student, whereas he was already a renowned
professor, though not the celebrated author he would subsequently become. He had published
his essay on Hume (Empiricism and Subjectivity) and successfully taught at the Sorbonne as
lecturer. As for me, I was at the Lycée Louis-le-Grand, preparing for the entry examination to
the École Normale Supérieur. At that time (1961) Deleuze was putting the finishing touches
to his book on Nietzsche (Nietzsche and Philosophy). In writing this book, almost daily he
had consulted the National Library and read everything that could be related with his own
work on Nietzsche. Thus, occupied as he was with probing the theme of the tragic which
holds an important place in Nietzsche and Philosophy, he came across a book that I had
written two years previously, whose title, which he probably spotted in the library’s
“thematic” catalogue, had drawn his attention: La Philosophie Tragique. This book – despite
its utterances and emphasis – had interested him to the point that he manifested a desire to
meet with me. A friend, who had followed his courses at the Sorbonne, undertook to put us in
contact.
Thereafter, we met often: in Lyon, when he had been nominated senior lecturer, and
then at Paris, when he had been nominated to Vincennes; once in the Limousin residence of
Fanny, Deleuze’s wife. For my part, after some years at the École Normale Supérieur, and
after military service in Canada, I took up residence in Nice where I taught philosophy in the
Faculty of Letters. I would often stop over at the Deleuze’s when I travelled from Nice to
Paris. I would then go to Paris where he resided close to the Place de Clichy. Meeting or
dining with him was always most amicable, and we would hardly speak of philosophy (I
sensed in him serious substantial differences – intellectual differences, but also certain
differences of taste – and I preferred not to allude to them, after having been scolded a little
for mentioning the name Pascal). I don’t think I devalue his work if I confess that two
domains were indifferent to him, and he never spoke of them: music and food. This was not
the case with me, for I was a glutton and music lover every bit as voracious as since my
youth. However, we often spoke of the works of such and such a philosopher, like Nietzsche,
Spinoza or Bergson, as well as our literary projects. With his refined courtesy, his elegance –
though sometimes perhaps a little too stiff – this was a delightful man, and his humour
effortlessly hit the mark.
Later, from the publication of A Thousand Plateaus, our relations became scarce and
ended by breaking off, without there being the least rupture declared between us. The
principal reason for this distancing was that I no longer understood everything that he wrote.
The first book that thus thwarted me was A Thousand Plateaus (with the exception of the first
chapter – Rhizome – which had been published in part and which I had read
beforehand).The works which followed hardly clarified matters for me, and I would have
been embarrassed to speak of them with him or to write to him about them. But I always
admired the books published previously, like the works on Nietzsche or Spinoza, and the little
work on Kant, a marvel of clarity – with a slight preference for what is for me his chief work:
Difference and Repetition.
Thus, we hardly saw each in the last part of his life. His writings and his themes had
become impenetrable to me; we no longer spoke – and no longer wrote – the same language.

Clément Rosset, 2009

To Clément Rosset, 26 February 1966

Dear friend,

I haven‟t written to you although you‟ve left for Canada, lazy and overflowing
(overflowing with work). This isn‟t however for lack of thinking of you. I imagine you well
enough, under all possible Canadian forms – hilarity – but there you only see my friendship,
if life out there is not funny. Have read your Lettre sur les chimpanzés/Essai sur Teilhard de
Chardin: I loved it very much, it‟s very beautiful and of a beautiful style (Chatelet, in
L’Observateur... I cannot finish my thought, multiple in this regard). I follow obscure dreams
on the necessity of a new style or a new form of philosophy; have finished a long Sacher-
Masoch, of which I don‟t know what to make. Yet Lyon, it‟s a type of Canada. I would like
to see you soon and speak with you, my friend.

Gilles Deleuze

To Clément Rosset, 15 September 1966

A quick word (where I rightly tell you of my pleasure at having received Les
chimpanzés and of having completely read it, very happy). As for the professional problem, I
don‟t know much:
1) Foundation T: that can give you three years without doing anything. Or three years
where you will have finished your thesis. For I think that your power of work, when you
apply yourself to it, is very great. The question is not whether your thesis will be good, for it
will be, and more than good, but whether you feel like putting yourself to work immediately.
For if you have then not finished your thesis in three years, what‟s going on? I‟m astonished
that you have the research after Thiers, especially just after. Thus, if you take Thiers, which
would be very interesting in the short term, the preparation of your thesis becomes urgent
enough. It‟s true that, even after Thiers, you could gain the post of assistant. And also, it
depends whether you are interested in engaging with and finishing your thesis quickly.
2) Assistantship: this would be work, but less than you imagine perhaps. It‟s true that
I don‟t know Jankélévitch‟s requirements (notably, correcting copies). Are these courses
necessary for you, or only give you pleasure? At the end of the assistantship you would
automatically have the right to research (at least if things haven‟t changed, or if, after your
time of assistantship, you are not strongly advised to take a post on the list of senior
lecturers...).
I dream more than I advise you. Each sentence I write is marked by the vague. The
decision should depend on exterior circumstances: do you feel like taking back your life in
Paris, under a free and private form, or even under a professional form, consisting of contact
with students and professors? The vagueness comes from the fact that nobody knows what
will happens in 3 years, in our trade (for example from the point of view of research). At any
rate, in both cases, Thiers or assistantship, the common problem is to take charge of your
thesis. What will best favour that, what will best serve to excite you? In any case, don‟t fall
out with either Jankélévitch or Gouhier (it‟s possible, by a long letter where you inform one
or the other of the worthiest reasons why your choice doesn‟t conform to his wish – but you
don‟t tell me to what degree Gouhier has spoken with you or what you have said). In brief:
thinking of you, slight preference for Thiers (however, I know nothing of the way of life
there, of “obligations”). Voila. Enjoy Canada. Tell me your decision. Regards.

Gilles Deleuze

To Clément Rosset, May 1979

Dear Clement,

In postponing my letters, I get the feeling of having created a misunderstanding, of

which I alone would be the victim if you would think that I have stopped thinking of you, and
hoping to see you. It‟s so long since we‟ve seen each other (in my memory, you phoned, but I
wasn‟t there). Nevertheless, the fact remains you missed me. Call me if you want to, on your
next passage, so that we can have a great lunch as only we know how. The year has passed in
a flash. My pages accumulate and I‟m happy with them, but I still fall short of the smaller and
smaller infinite distance of having it finished, so that it hardly risks arriving, except by divine
surprise. My only discovery has been to delete the pages to do, not already done, which is the
only way of winning time. Such joy I‟ve had. But you, but you? I send you an answer for
Descombes, whose address I don‟t have. I‟d prefer you to send it. Read it, and only give it to
him if it‟s not inconvenient for you. I give you my affection and embrace you.

Gilles Deleuze
PS. The rare envelope is because I had no other. Emilie gave it to me.

To Clément Rosset, April 1981

Dear friend,

I‟ve been very happy with your little word. You are thus in a type of retreat? You
know, I have confidence in your strength, and I have the presentiment that you will leave it in
an unexpected way and with a great renewal for all your friends. I‟ve made a little report, on
the state of literature and philosophy today, that I would like to send you for your opinion.
Soon, I hope. Regards.

Gilles Deleuze

PS. You must not think often, nor with pleasure, on the grotesque ordeal that the university
has inflicted upon you. A certain number of people, relatively powerful (Bourdieu for
example), started out by worrying about this state of affairs. I would very much like, if you
have the patience, that you tell me about it. It would be well if there was a movement against.
To Clément Rosset, 21 October 1981

Dear Clément,

We no longer see each other, and I‟m sorry for it. I‟ve spent the entire holidays in
Limousin, without returning to Paris. I would have strongly loved to see you. Do you find
that people are more gentle and relaxed since our socialist regime came to power? This is,
however, no reason for the university world to get better. I am constantly run off my feet, and
I‟m panicked by it: it‟s age, or even my fragile health. The incident with Villani1 is something
I‟m profoundly sorry for: he‟d telephoned me, and then arrived in Paris without telling me the
exact date, and I couldn‟t have seen him. If you see him, tell him I was truly confused, but
also that he shouldn‟t regret too much, as philosophical conversations are a difficult thing. Is
work good? I embrace you.

Gilles Deleuze

PS. Will you come at Christmas?

To Clément Rosset, 3 December 1982

Dear Clément,

I‟m happy with your news. I will write Villani a long letter – which I don‟t know will
settle the matter for him – to imagine, suppose, reconstitute what could have happened.
Perhaps he will show it to you. In short, I think there‟s been a misunderstanding from the
start, and the reasons why I liked Villani‟s letter were rightly ones which rendered Jérôme2
more and more reticent, because he hoped for a more “academic” book, in a certain sense, for
public students. But it pains me that Villani is affected.

1
Arnaud Villani, professor at the Lycée Massena in Nice, who had written a book on Deleuze and hoped to
publish it.
2
Jérôme Lindon.
 I am truly happy with your nomination. Yes, I‟ve had a very hard crisis of respiration.
I therefore live a more and more retired life. But I feel extremely well so I make no fuss. And
you, have you left your temporary retirement? My work on cinema pleases me well; in any
case, as you say, it‟s a virgin subject. What do you make at this time? I will speak to you
soon. All my regards.

Gilles Deleuze

To Clément Rosset, 18 June 1983

Dear Clément,

Why is that we haven‟t seen each other for such a long time? I suspect that you have
need of a retreat as much as I have, and of a lovely solitude. But that takes nothing away from
my friendship with you, and I hope it‟s the same for you. I‟ll be happy to see you again when
you return to Paris. This Nietzsche conference, alas, is beyond my powers: you do me no
honour in subordinating so many things to my presence. I‟m sure that I at least have
bronchitis: and my only pleasure would be to see you, and also to hear the music. What
would be good is if you could organise everything so that if I come at the last moment I could
see it, following my state, but not speak, only hear the music. Above all not speak. Have you
read Artaud‟s Cahiers de Rodez (3 or 4 heavy volumes)? I have the impression of something
as important as Nietzsche‟s last notebooks. A geneaology and a creation of fantastic rhythms,
with anti-Christian settling of scores.
I‟m very happy to advance your next book, even though I don‟t doubt, dear Clement,
your difficulties in my regard. Yet you will never achieve the difficulties of a certain Mattéi
(of Nice) who has sent me a strange book. Soon, I hope. I embrace you.

Gilles Deleuze
To Clément Rosset, November 28 1983

Dear Clément,

I have also read your book, I like that our books intersect. There are splendid pages,
and you hold an irrefutable argument that, from reasons of joy, rightly there isn‟t much of. I
admire what you write of music. Your style. The eternal return, the eternal return, I like less,
but that doesn‟t matter, and on the whole I find it a beautiful book. Give me some
information, please. You say that not long ago birdsong had a great role in the music of the
Middle Ages or the Renaissance? Is it also true that the gallop of horses, the hooves, had a
great role? In mannerism, aren‟t there many dances of the galloping type? If we could make
the gallop and the refrain complimentary, that would be good for me. It would even be
entirely necessary. When you will have the time, could you give me indications in this
regard? Soon. Regards.

Gilles Deleuze

To Clement Rosset, December 1983

Dear Clément,

Thanks for your letter: it‟s very precious to me, you‟ve found everything that interests
me. I will keep it (it‟s obvious that in using it I will cite you, which I don‟t say because you
will be concerned about it, but because I have the concern myself).Yes, I‟ve read the text
from Le Monde. If you resemble someone, it‟s not a Voltaire but a D. H. Lawrence. Yet
people don‟t see it. I wait impatiently for your text Ritournelle (if there is the least difficulty
in sending it to me, don‟t take the trouble, just tell me when it will appear). See you soon.
Regards.

Gilles Deleuze
*
Clement Rosset, „Présentation: Neuf Lettres Inédits de Deleuze‟, Cités 40 (2009), 117-125. Trans. Kris Pender.