Malcolm Bowie (1943–2007)
Autor/a de Proust Among the Stars
Sobre l'autor
Crèdit de la imatge: from wikipedia
Obres de Malcolm Bowie
'When familiar meanings dissolve ... ' : Essays in French Studies in Memory of Malcolm Bowie (1942) 3 exemplars
Freud, Proust et Lacan: La théorie comme fiction 2 exemplars
Etiquetat
Coneixement comú
- Nom oficial
- Bowie, Malcolm McNaughtan
- Data de naixement
- 1943-05-05
- Data de defunció
- 2007-01-28
- Gènere
- male
- Nacionalitat
- England
UK - País (per posar en el mapa)
- UK
- Lloc de naixement
- Aldeburgh, United Kingdom
- Lloc de defunció
- Cambridge, United Kingdom
- Educació
- University of Edinburgh (MA)
University of Sussex (PhD) - Professions
- Master of Christ's College, Cambridge
- Organitzacions
- Society of French Studies
British Comparative Literature Association
Association of University Professors of French - Premis i honors
- Fellow, British Academy
Fellow, Royal Society of Literature
Membres
Ressenyes
Premis
Potser també t'agrada
Autors associats
Estadístiques
- Obres
- 11
- Membres
- 300
- Popularitat
- #78,268
- Valoració
- 3.7
- Ressenyes
- 3
- ISBN
- 26
- Llengües
- 2
The only piece that promises much of value is the title essay, which contrasts Freud's fascination with memory and the past, Augustine's notion of lived time, and Heidegger's notion of futurity. Bowie focuses most of his attention on the influence of Heidegger's concept of time on Lacan, although this last part is desperately lacking in focus.
The other pieces in the book are utterly bland and have little or no connection to Lacan: a meditation on Freud's relationship to art (Ch.2), a technical and rather pointless comparison of painting and music (Ch.3), and an inexplicable discussion of Freud's relationship to the "European unconscious" (Ch.4).
The one redeeming feature of the book is its appendix, which features an interview in which he puts forward ideas in a manner that is a thousand times more interesting and appealing than any of the earlier content in the book. In fact, this interview is probably the only part of the book worth reading; the rest is pretentious, albeit highly-educated nonsense.… (més)