François Jullien, Puissance du pensif ou comment pense la litterature, Acts Sud, 2025.
Reflection between novel, poetry and Chinese wisdom
Literature is not an object of philosophical explanation, but an independent mode of thought—a thought without conclusion, characterized by reflection, permanence, transformation, and openness, and it is precisely in these qualities that it fulfills its indispensable modern function. According to Jullien, the concept of "literature" only emerged at the threshold of modernity. Genres existed in antiquity, but no "literature" in the modern sense. This belated designation is not a deficiency, but rather an expression of the fact that literature only acquires its specific task with modernity: to generate a reflexive openness that neither myth nor philosophy can achieve.
Or, the littérature pense en faisant autre chose que penser: elle pense en évoquant ou racontant, souvent comme en vagabondant, sa pensée s'y déploie d'à travers la “matière” littéraire, elle en est le fruit, à la fois la déhiscence et la récompense, se répandant librement en aval, par dégagement, evasively, en émanant.
Literature, however, thinks by doing something other than thinking: it thinks by evoking or narrating, often as if wandering about; its thinking unfolds through the literary "material," it is its fruit, at the same time its opening and reward; it spreads freely through detachment. evasiveradiating.
Literature evokes a state of contemplation without reducing it to mere concepts. Literature "thinks" by leaving things open, delaying, traversing, and inviting reflection, rather than fixing statements. The novel's true subject is not the event itself, but the underlying process. Contemplation arises through duration, over time, through narrative parallels and the reappearance of characters.
Jullien presents a meditation on a form of thinking that philosophy has long neglected: a non-conceptual, indirect thinking that does not define but allows things to happen. It is another work that follows Jullien's method of decentering—often through dialogue between Western and Chinese thought—to reveal another power of mind (a “different universal” than the abstract). The similarity between Jullien's conceptions of literary reflection and the modes of thought in Asian, particularly Chinese, cultures lies in the fact that both represent an alternative mode to the dominant Western rationality and philosophy of being and the concept. The crucial common denominator is the negation of fixity and immediate definition: literary reflection evades conceptual determinism, which allows it to grasp the imprecise, indeterminate nature of experience and life in its indeterminate singularity. This attitude correlates strongly with central principles of Chinese thought, as Jullien elaborated them in his earlier works. Like the Chinese sage, who, according to Jullien, “does not cling to any idea” so as not to lose the availability and openness of his mind, so too does literary reflection avoid taking a definitive position or illustrating an abstract idea. Both avoid codifying thought and thus making it partisan. Chinese thought is fundamentally oriented toward becoming and process, in contrast to Western ontology, which is fixated on static being. This is reflected in the concept of efficacy (shì), which focuses on the implicit, silent transformation of things. Reflection is also a processual activity of the mind, directed not toward a result but toward the flow of experience itself.
Jullien views the indirect approach as a central strategy of Chinese wisdom for achieving effectiveness—the discreet guidance of the situation rather than the subject's energetic, direct intervention. Literary pensif also operates indirectly and suggestively. It allows for resonance and opens up possibilities instead of assigning a definitive meaning, which constitutes a form of intellectual 'detourality'. The indeterminacy inherent in pensiveness finds its counterpart in the Chinese aesthetic of 'fadeur', an ideal of taste characterized by the absence of fixedness and strong, defined color, thus leaving room for the unlimited.
Essentially, the “pensif” serves as proof that a non-conceptual form of thought also exists in European culture, one that shares the availability and openness of Chinese thought and makes it possible to access a “different universal” than the abstract one. The “fadeur” as a principle of Asian culture translates roughly as tastelessness, colorlessness, pallor, lack of expression, uninterestingness, or even emptiness; depending on the context, it can also refer to a state of banality or meaninglessness. Jullien notes that Chinese culture had no need to so explicitly articulate the concept of “literature” because the abstraction of the concept was not considered the decisive operation of thought there. The text (“wen”) did not need to be separated between literature and philosophy, as happened in Europe, where philosophy elevated the abstract universal.
The central theses of François Jullien's work revolve around the conceptual establishment of pensiveness as an independent mode of thought inherent in literature, fundamentally different from the conceptual thinking of philosophy. Pensiveness (pensivité) describes a state in which thoughts seem to be released, while the subject remains deeply immersed in them; this mode operates primarily in retrospect ("après-coup"). Jullien argues that the pensiveness of literature allows it to conceive of "life" in its existence and its effective possibilities—something that eludes philosophy due to its fixation on abstract "being" and the determination of "objects." This literary mode of thinking unlocks an "intimate universal" that is not gained through abstraction from differences, but rather through the deepening of experience to a trans-subjective, original core of the human, which is directly shared and existentially experienced.
The famous closing formula “Et la marquise resta pensive” from Balzac’s Sarrasine This is taken as a starting point to show that literature does not aim at resolution, but rather at keeping meaning open. In contrast to Barthes' structuralist analysis (S/MJullien shifts the focus of his analysis, which, while not intended to be explanatory, operates analytically: Not structure or meaning are at the center, but rather leaving the reader in a state of contemplation. Literature opens up a different kind of universalism than philosophy, which operates with an abstract universalism. Literature unfolds an intimate, existential type of universality, making conceivable "what thought cannot think" ("ce que la pensée ne peut pas penser") – that is, dimensions of experience that defy conceptual grasp. Literature generates continuous reflection instead of conclusion. Finally, Jullien argues that poetic contemplation – as in Rimbaud, for example – is even more radical than that of the novel. The poem thinks "en amont," closer to existence itself, prior to any conceptual articulation. Thus, literature as a whole is positioned as a space of thought that is not secondary to philosophy, but rather precedes or subverts it.
The même qu'elle n'est pas soluble en “énoncé”, the poetry pense in ses blancs et c'est ce qui la rend pensive. Ce blanc est non seulement au bord, mais au sein du poème ; The entourage, the traverse, the irrigation and the déborde. A poem is to be discovered in a retro style in the desert, partially effacée by the sable and the vent, and don't have to decipher a part of the mots. Mais en même temps que son texte est manquant, un poème est surabondant, il est à la fois sous- et sur-déterminé: sous-déterminé par ce qu'il n'éclaire pas de la nuit dont il émerge, parce qu'il ne construit pas de sens et n'explique pas. Mais sur-déterminé par le foisonnement de sens qui s'y recèle au point même qu'il ne s'agit plus de “sens”: le poème est (rend) pensif à la fois pour suppléer à son défaut de détermination et parce qu'une “excédance” (“signifiance”) le porte à se déborder.
Just as poetry cannot be reduced to mere "statements," it thinks in its gaps, and this is precisely what makes it thought-provoking. These gaps are not only at the edges but also within the poem itself; they surround it, permeate it, flow through it, and burst forth from it. A poem is always discovered like a stele found in the desert, partially erased by sand and wind, of which only a fragment of the words can be deciphered. But simultaneously with the absence of its text, a poem is abundant; it is both underdetermined and overdetermined: underdetermined by what it fails to illuminate from the night from which it emerges, because it neither constructs nor explains meaning. But overdetermined by the abundance of meanings it contains, to the point where it is no longer about "meaning": The poem is (and makes one) thoughtful, both to compensate for its lack of definiteness and because an "excess" ("meaning content") causes it to overflow.
Just as poetry cannot be reduced to mere “statements,” it thinks in its gaps, and this is what makes it contemplative. This gap is not merely at the edge, but at the very heart of the poem; it surrounds it, permeates it, flows through it, and floods it. A poem is always discovered like a stele found in the desert, partially erased by sand and wind, of which only a fragment of the words can be deciphered. But simultaneously with the absence of its text, a poem is abundant; it is both under- and over-determined: under-determined by what it does not illuminate from the night from which it emerges, because it constructs no meaning and explains nothing. Over-determined, however, by the abundance of meaning concealed within it, so that it is no longer a matter of “meaning”: the poem is contemplative, both to compensate for its lack of definiteness and because an “excess” (“significance”) causes it to overflow.
Jullien's approach is primarily contrastive and analytical-historical. Methodologically, he distinguishes the deliberate, frontal strategy of philosophy, which demands constant clarity and agreement, from the evasive, associative strategy of literature, whose thinking operates in ambiguity, gaps, and indexicality. He traces the second birth of literature (at the threshold of European modernity, 18th/19th centuries) back to the collapse of the traditional world order, which forced literature to shift from the mode of representation ("mimesis") to the exploration of unknown subjectivity. Literary forms such as the novel examine life indirectly through the variation of imaginary possibilities. Poetry, on the other hand, captures the fleeting nature of experience; its reflectiveness arises from the workings of assonance and metaphor, which are conveyed within the phenomenal and not, like metaphysics, beyond it.
The study concludes that literature constitutes an autonomous field of thought, whose "thickness" arises from a contemplative approach that utilizes the singular and affectivity as vehicles of intellectual tension. Literature thinks by bringing to light the indeterminate ("in-caractérisable") and the ambiguous ("ambigu"), thereby underpinning its absolute status as an explorer of the human beyond established categories. This allows for the reader's recognition, a non-cognitive recognition of the original commonality, which lends the work its depth.
The sinologist Jullien proposes that philosophy undergo an internal revolution in order to "open up the concept without destroying it." This requires the strategic resumption of the Logos Rejected: the singular, the ambiguous, and fruitful contradiction. Concepts should not merely abstract, but serve as "intensifiers" of experience, mobilizing life instead of reifying it. Furthermore, the philosopher must recognize writing as the site of philosophical work, using language inventively and turning it against its own logically solidified traces in order to integrate the thought process of reflection into a philosophy of life.
Reading chapter by chapter
Introduction/Preface
Jullien introduces the term "pensif" (reflective) as a word neglected by traditional philosophy. Pensiveness describes a state in which thoughts are released, yet one remains absorbed in them. This way of thinking, which appears relaxed but doesn't let go, could express the true mode of thought in literature. By examining how a novel or a poem thinks, Jullien aims to reveal a different kind of universal than the abstract universality of Western philosophy. He poses the question of whether literature, precisely because it is reflective, can think about life, something that has so often eluded philosophy.
ET LA MARQUISE RESTA PENSIVE
The first chapter examines the power of reflection using the final sentence of Balzac's work as an example. Sarrasine“And the Marquise remained thoughtful.” This ending is not a definitive “conclusion,” but rather the beginning of an endless, vague thought process about the nature of life—its relentlessness and the resulting disillusionments. The pensive attitude (pensivité) allows for a deeper understanding precisely because it leaves thoughts undefined and does not attempt to confine them to a precise “object.”
Reflectiveness is paradoxical: it signifies both a retreat from ordinary thinking and a greater unfolding of thoughts that follow their own course. It is vague yet persistent and demands more of the mind than mere "thinking" would. This illustrates the difference between active, goal-oriented thinking and the reflective mode. The lingering reflection after finishing a book characterizes a "true novel." Unlike philosophy, which requires immediate clarity and agreement, thought in literature often unfolds in retrospect.afterwards), remains unfinished and thus constantly stimulates further thought. The German thoughtful emphasizes this “reflection” in temporal and quasi-spatial terms (the dwelling on the, after which (to think, which literature stimulates).
Traditional philosophy is characterized by the language of being, which defines and categorizes everything and seeks to create a stable "object" of thought. Literature, on the other hand, thinks of that which cannot be defined or categorized, which constitutes its essential evasiveness ("évasivité"). Mallarmé's image of dissolving smoke rings serves as a metaphor for this "pensivité": the literary text lengthens and diffuses in successive waves, while "an overly precise meaning [...] erases the vague literature." Closely related to this is allusion, which hints at what is to be said without defining it.
The reflective line of thought in literature is not strictly deliberate. In contrast to the frontal strategy of philosophy, literature is oblique. Philosophy thinks, um To think, which limits it; literature thinks by doing something else (narrating, evoking). It gives us food for thought by capturing the in-assignable, which would be lost through codification. In contrast to philosophy, which separates in order to define, literature embraces the ambiguity of feelings and situations. Affectivity is a central vehicle of reflective thought, since emotions hold thoughts in a tension that cannot be resolved.
The five main characteristics that constitute the mode of thought of literary contemplation ("pensivité") are indirectness, obliqueness, indexicality, ambiguity, and affectivity. Indirectness ("évasivité") is the essential nature of literature, since it thinks of that which cannot be determined or categorized, thereby extending and dispersing meaning. Obliqueness ("obliquité") describes the fact that literature does not act directly in order to think, but thinks by doing something else (narrating or evoking), thus liberating thought from direct conceptualization. Indexicality ("indicialité") operates by having seemingly anecdotal features or characteristics point as traces ("indice") to something that cannot be fully designated, thereby bringing about a thoughtful expansiveness. Ambiguity ("ambiguïté") becomes thoughtfulness because literature refuses to decide between opposites ("trancher"), thus keeping thoughts in a state of undecided and undivided reflection. Affectivity is the vehicle of reflective thought, since emotions are permeated with thoughts and maintain them under a tension that cannot be resolved.
NAISSANCES DE LA LITTÉRATURE
According to Jullien, literature was born twice: once early and spontaneously (as epic, tragedy, etc.) and once late, at the threshold of European modernity (18th/19th centuries), when it acquired its name "literature" and its conceptual framework. This second birth correlates with the rise of reflection, the discovery of a deeper subjectivity, and the infinity of thought. While philosophy received its name early on, a comprehensive concept for the entire body of words was lacking for a long time; Aristotle noted this in his PoeticsThe term "literature" had to free itself from the Latin "written" and later from "belles-lettres" (beautiful literature), which subordinated it to taste. The shedding of the decorative epithet "beautiful" marked its breakthrough to an autonomous function.
The essential prerequisite for the birth of literature was the collapse of the idea of an orderly world. Without an externally anchored foundation (being, God, nature, fixed human nature) for thought, literature could no longer be mere representation ("mimesis"), but became the necessary explorer of humanity amidst chaos and infinite possibilities.
Literature ascended to an absolute status by detaching itself from any external truth. Its task is to decipher "life" in its very existence before philosophy codifies it into fixed "truths." The statement "Real life is literature" (Proust) testifies to this absolute status. Literature also broke free from the formal rules of literary genres. "Modernity" now signified not merely a renewal from the past, but an absolute break, marking the unprecedented and the new. Great authors like Balzac and Stendhal continued this break by developing a subjectivity that transcended mere "character."
Subjectivity in literature transcends the intellectual "I think" of the philosophical subject; the subject of reflection is existential. Because subjectivity delves deeper into life and the world and is permeated by infinite longing, its thinking is necessarily evasive. Romanticism, coinciding with the birth of literature, consciously focused on this infinite subjectivity, which Christianity had already revealed within humanity. In contrast to the portrayal of "types" or "characters" in earlier genres, the "innermost" of the subject—the uncharacterizable—was now explored. The experience of "abandonment" in the face of death lays bare this deeper inner self, providing inexhaustible material for reflection. The vagueness of literary language, which permits "allusion toward the infinite," thus becomes a legitimate condition of thought.
The concept of literature spread globally (a third birth), challenging the traditional European notion that philosophy (logos) had overcome literature (myth). Through this opening to reflection, the realm of thought has been so broadened and deepened that philosophy no longer "overtakes" literature.
COMMENT PENSE UN ROMAN, UN POÈME?
Literature's thoughtfulness stems from its embrace of the entire spectrum of what "thinking" can mean—from doubt to feeling and imagining ("imaginer / sentir")—while philosophy abstracts from this. Literature makes it possible to reflect on "other lives," thereby expanding thought beyond one's own. The novel thinks indirectly. Its thoughtfulness arises from its structural nature, the matrix (the relationship between "I" and "world"), and the operating dispositif (the arrangement of structural elements). The novel explores the effective possibilities of life and their limits by playing out imaginary variations (as in the works of Balzac and Tolstoy).
A narrative mechanism such as that of unconsummated adultery (as in Balzac's Le Lys dans la vallée or Fromentin DominiqueThis is particularly fruitful because maintaining the boundary and the resulting tension explore the limits of human risk to their extreme. The novel, which does not completely control and articulate thought but keeps it "fluid," gives cause for reflection. The thoughtfulness of a novel is a criterion for its quality; everything in it thinks (construction, characters, episodes). A novel without thoughtfulness (like Dumas's Monte CristoIt merely offers entertainment without leaving any lasting impact on thought.
While the novel explores life's possibilities, poetry captures the fleeting nature of experience. Poetry captures the moment by preserving, as thought, what the stream of life would otherwise carry away. The poem depicts, while the novel imagines. True poetry differs from mere rhymed speech. It arises from thoughtful reflection. The poem thinks in its own voids. It is underdetermined by the darkness from which it springs, but overdetermined by the abundance of meaning it contains.
A central source of contemplation is the aftermath of desire or pleasure, when thought is no longer fixated on an object and delves into the vagueness and the very being of existence—often confronted with emptiness or weariness (“ennui”). In contrast to metaphysics, which constructs an “afterlife” (“au-delà”) through abstraction, poetry digs an afterlife deep within the heart of the sensual.
The space for contemplation in the poem arises from the subtle and the fleeting. The poem employs correlation and montage (parataxis) to intertwine and interact themes and motifs. It eludes the language of being and the dualism of thought and feeling by being not abstract, but ephemeral ("évanescent"). Assonance and the figurative function of poetry, particularly metaphor, are the most important elements for generating contemplation. Metaphor transports and displaces within the world ("meta-phora"), in contrast to metaphysics, which operates beyond ("meta") the world.
UNIVERSEL ABSTRAIT, UNIVERSEL INTIME
Literature's thoughtfulness lies in its unfolding of an intimate universal, distinct from the abstract universal of philosophy. The abstract universal is attained by overcoming differences. The intimate universal, on the other hand, arises from the deepening of experience until a common core is reached, shared at the very heart of all experience.
Philosophy has committed itself to the universal concept, neglecting the singular ("hekastos") of existence, which literature takes up again. The singular cannot be dialectified and cannot be "overcome." The intimate refers both to the innermost core of one's own self and to the deepest, most directly shared connection with the other. This intimate universal is constitutive of humanity. It is not a universal of the mind (of reason), but of the very essence of being human. It is impersonal and trans-subjective.
The possibility of intimacy challenges the philosophical assumption of solipsism (the belief that access to the consciousness of another is only possible indirectly, through analogy). In intimacy, the boundary between subjects dissolves, and a shared "consciousness" is created that is no longer a property of an "I." Literature invests itself in this transcendental, impersonal realm of consciousness.
Philosophy often fails to grasp the Other as a singular being because it immediately categorizes them as "the Other." The novel accomplishes the miracle of bringing the individual to life in their existence (e.g., Julien Sorel, Mme de Rênal) and allowing the reader to intimately share in their singular fate. Baudelaire evokes this impersonal "we" state, which predominates in the human condition, in the opening of Baudelaire's You fleurs.
The intimate universal renders traditional literary concepts like "human truth" and "sincerity" obsolete, as these were based on the untenable metaphysics of a fixed human nature. Literature enables a recognition—not in the sense of cognitive identification, but of rediscovering an original commonality of humanity. The pleasure arises from the feeling of experiencing a deeper inner aspect of humanity, one that cannot be fully grasped but can be infinitely contemplatively experienced.
RELÈVE DE LA PHILOSOPHIE OU COMMENT OUVRIR LE CONCEPT
Philosophy must undergo an inner revolution and attempt to reclaim what it has abandoned in favor of the abstract: the singular, the ambiguous, and the contradictory. Its aim must be "to open up the concept without destroying it." The concept must be exposed to the most resistant element of experience. To this end, philosophy must proceed strategically, accepting facets and sine waves (as an "essay" rather than a treatise) and delving into the "small" that contains reality (Proust).
Classical philosophy condemned ambiguity. Literature has taken it upon itself to explore ambiguity, for example, the idea that love is also hate ("hainamoration"). In order to conceive of life, philosophy must grant fruitful contradiction a legitimate status. Life is paradoxical. In contrast to Hegel's dialectic, which overcomes contradiction, philosophy must allow contradiction within the concept of life so that it can free itself from the determination that reifies it. The concepts of life must serve as intensifiers of experience, which mobilize life.
The dictum that philosophy pays attention only to what is thought, not how it is said, is false. A philosopher must be a writer, not through the act of writing literature, but because writing fosters their philosophical activity. The philosopher's sentence is their way of grasping, connecting, and developing thought—it is the hallmark of their philosophy. The philosopher must use language inventively and turn it against itself in order to liberate thought from its established linguistic path. Thinking happens. in the language and against Language. By opening its concept to the small, the ambiguous, and the contradictory, philosophy renews its purpose and can think about life. The enjoyment of philosophy lies in the gain of effective thinking and in the "grasping" of life through conception.
ending
Parataxis (the juxtaposition of sentence elements without explicit, logical connection) in Asian languages, particularly Chinese, is, according to the sinologist Jullien, structurally linked to the contemplative nature of literature. The connection lies in the fact that a language that is eminently paratactic is best suited to poetic expression. While syntax (the grammatical regulation of sentence structure), which would stifle poetry, recedes into the background, poetry relies on parataxis, in which elements are placed side by side without the need for their connection or codification.
In poetic works operating within such a paratactic framework, pensiveness is structurally generated through the functional interplay of elements. The juxtaposition of motifs or images, without logically linking them through precise syntax, creates an intermediate space in which thoughts can float freely and unfold.
The Asian, and especially the Chinese, poetic tradition, which in this way fully exploits parataxis, was not hindered by the need to liberate itself from the language of being, as the European tradition had to do. The European tradition had to revolt against the dominance of ontology and the exclusive reason that separates and categorizes in order to achieve the poetic ideal of pensiveness. In contrast, a paratactic language offered the appropriate structural framework in which thoughtfulness could emerge as a dimension of thinking that unfolds meaning evasively and allusively.
We should all read, Jullien argues, because literature unfolds a unique mode of contemplation that draws us into a deep, absorbing thought process, like sinking into a well from which we cannot escape. This "pensivité" allows us to reflect on life itself, that unclassifiable realm which eludes philosophy due to its fixation on abstract concepts. By reading, we free ourselves from the confines of our own "lifelessness" and begin to think of "lives other than our own," thereby restructuring ourselves internally and experiencing ourselves as subjects of subjectivity. The greatest gift of reading is the unlocking of the "intimate universal," a universal core of humanity shared not through abstraction but through the deepest emotional experience and immediate connection, bestowing upon us a pleasure that transcends mere distraction. Philosophers should understand reading as a strategic necessity, for literature holds up a mirror to them, revealing what the philosophical thinker has lost: the thinking of life. Only through confrontation with reflection, Jullien argues, can philosophy "open up the concept without destroying it," by integrating the singular, ambiguity, and fruitful contradiction into its thinking in order to reclaim existential thought and unleash a force that mobilizes life.
This article is written in German and can be found at https://rentree.de. Automatic translations into English and French are available. English, French.
