Roland Barthes’ assertion that “The text is a tissue of quotations drawn from the innumerable centres of culture” highlights the concept of intertextuality — the idea that all texts are interconnected and shaped by prior cultural and literary works. Rather than viewing a text as an isolated creation, Barthes emphasizes that every piece of writing is woven from countless references, influences, and echoes of other texts. This perspective challenges the notion of authorial originality, suggesting instead that meaning arises from the complex network of cultural sources embedded within the text. It also implies that interpreting a text involves recognizing these cultural connections and understanding how they contribute to its significance.
“Text of bliss: the text that imposes a state of loss, the text that discomforts (perhaps to the point of a certain boredom), unsettles the reader's historical, cultural, psychological assumptions, the consistency of his tastes, values, memories, brings to a crisis his relation with language.”
“...that ambiguous area of culture where something unfailingly political, though separate from the political choices of the day, infiltrates judgment and language.”
“The text you write must prove to me that it desires me. This proof exists: it is writing. Writing is: the science of the various blisses of language, its Kama Sutra (this science has but one treatise: writing itself).”
“To read is to struggle to name, to subject the sentences of a text to a semantic transformation. This transformation is erratic; it consists in hesitating among several names: if we are told that Sarrasine had 'one of those strong wills that know no obstacle'. what are we to read? will, energy, obstinacy, stubbornness, etc.?”
“The bastard form of mass culture is humiliated repetition... always new books, new programs, new films, news items, but always the same meaning.”
“In 1850, August Salzmann photographed, near Jerusalem, the road to Beith-Lehem (as it was spelled at the time): nothing but stony ground, olive trees; but three tenses dizzy my consciousness: my present, the time of Jesus, and that of the photographer, all this under the instance of 'reality' — and no longer through the elaborations of the text, whether fictional or poetic, which itself is never credible down to the root.”