The Carnaval of Being – Handbook ‘Pataphysics by Matthijs van Boxsel does in a way what it says on its rather large tin. To start with the latter part of its title, it’s definitely an encyclopaedic handbook which gives a lot of information on the subject of ‘Pataphysics. And it’s definitely also a Carnaval, that’s to say, a feast of disguise, masquerading, and play. ‘Pataphysics is of course first and foremost the domain of the French writer and play-write Alfred Jarry (1873-1907), best known for his Ubu Roi. But in 1894 he also published a short magazine article on Being and Living (Être et Vivre) in which he halfway concludes after some complex reasoning that “Living is the Carnaval of Being”.

The notion of complexity lies at the heart of all things pataphysical, in the first place because it doesn’t shy away from contradictions. It in fact rather included in this ‘science of imaginary solutions’ as it was first described by Jarry in his Gestes et opinions du docteur Faustroll (1897-98). Defining ‘Pataphysics is therefore sheer impossible, or as Ruy Launoir remarks: “there is no key to ‘Pataphysics. … To pretend that one can explain (i.e. reduce) ‘Pataphysics by methods that are not pataphysical, is a little, even greatly, pataphysical.” This quote is mentioned by Andrew Hugill in his ‘Pataphysics – A Useless Guide (2012), as the main reason why he limits himself “to trace the lineaments of pataphysics (his italics) and, in doing so, to offer some critical insights”.

Van Boxsel’s book is, following Launoir’s remark, in that sense definitely pataphysical as he does try to explain it in, well, one can only say, a pataphysical way. Although Van Boxsel seemingly uses a clear structure for his book this turns out to be just a façade. Dividing it in three large sections on respectively ‘Pataphysics, Fumism and Protobataphyics (sic), one could be tempted to think to have finally found the ultimate and all-inclusive book on this subject matter. Instead, for those who master the Dutch language, be prepared to embark on a journey which is not unlike that of Doctor Faustroll himself, far from linear and full of the most bizarre connotations and connections.

All seems to start well with dedicating the first sub-chapter of section one to the Collège de ‘Pataphysique of which Van Boxsel is himself a so-called ‘Régent’. The Collège was founded long after Jarry’s death, “by a select group of scientists in the backroom of the bookshop La Maison des Amis des Livres of Adrienne Monier at the rue de l’Odéon in Paris on 22 Palotin 75 to the pataphysical calendar, or 11 May vulgo. Van Boxsel provides a useful overview of the calendar that started on 1 Absolu or 8 September 1873, the birthday of Alfred Jarry.

The tone of the book is however set when Van Boxsel first embarks on a story about the so-called ‘Knife of Lichtenberg’. It's useful for a correct understanding to elaborate on this. Van Boxsel describes how he’s staying in the famous Van Doesburg House in Meudon, where he has finished writing his book, and travels to Montmartre to attend a meeting of the Collège in the former apartment of Satrap [1] Boris Vian on top of the terrace of the Moulin Rouge. The Collège wants to start a museum of imaginary objects. One of the members, Marine Caloï, shows a little box on which the label mentions in French that it contains ‘The Knife of Lichtenberg. A knife without a blade with the handle missing’. The writer and professor of physics Georg Christoph Lichtenberg (1742-1799) mentions the knife as figuring on a handwritten list of objects he has found in the back of a book by Jonathan Swift while visiting a rural library in England. Lichtenberg started in 1783 a collection of imaginary objects that preferably deny themselves. He does mention a bottle of dry water, chairs without seating, back or legs. According to Van Boxsel, Christoph Wieland (1733-1813) further complemented the collection in 1798, whereas Eduard Grisebach mentions that the Katalogus wahrer Bücher (Catalogue of true books) from 1720 mentions ‘A brand new tanner knife without blade or handle’. On which follows a somewhat cryptic philosophical exposition by Van Boxsel on the nature of the Knife of Lichtenberg as “an aesthetic programme: when we take away the colour and line, we are left with the emptiness that denies the imagination. But how to exhibit the emptiness? The emblematic work that testifies to the erasure is the monochromatic canvas. The knife thus points to modern art. Whoever opens Caloï’s box loses him or herself in a knife-shaped void veiled by red satin.” [2] Apart from a colour photograph of the box, next to which a further quote on its so-called qualities, and an image of the Van Doesburg House without caption, figures an image of an empty frame underneath which is mentioned in German ‘A knife without blade that lacks its handle’, signed Lichtenberg. At no point in this passage does Van Boxsel give any reference to where he gets his knowledge about Lichtenberg, let alone indicating who Christoph Wieland or Eduard Grisebach are, apart from birth and death of the first. It took thus some research to confirm the existence of all people mentioned in this passage. This, as well as the inclusion of his personal philosophical elaborations, is recurrent throughout the book. Van Boxsel does include a bibliography,  in which figures Hugill’s aforementioned book, and an extensive register of persons, but thus no direct references or notes in the text, nor a register of subjects which would have been equally helpful. This is unfortunate, but one could also say that this adds to the true pataphysical nature of the book.

Among the many absurd discoveries I nevertheless made is the fact that apparently quite an extensive part of Dutch modern and contemporary literature can somehow be related to pataphysics. For me, as a Dutch native, it was for instance quite astonishing to learn that writers such as Multatuli, Willem Frederik Hermans, Rutger Kopland, Hugo Brandt Corstius (aka Battus) could be somehow connected and that J.J.Slauerhoff had translated some Collège-related songs. We certainly didn’t learn about this during our Dutch literature lessons nor about their extensive exchanges with Paris. The connection with (art) movements as Nul or Provo or characters as Robert Jasper Grootveld are better known. With the exception of the recently deceased artist Jacqueline De Jong, female members are, just as in the French Collège, unfortunately rare. Van Boxsel writes however extensively about her as she was an important link between France and Holland, the situationists of which she also was a member and the pataphysicists.

Pataphysicists are spread allover the globe, united in numerous sub-organisations. The Dutch decided to introduce their own Academy of ‘Patafysics, which “for obvious reasons”, in a kind of (for me) non-surprising, but clearly tongue in cheek, colonial way is also referred to as Bâtaphysics. Their academy also includes the Dutch version of OuLiPo (Ouvroir de Littérature Potentielle), the WeMoLi or Werkplaats for Mogelijke Literatuur.

Fascinating is certainly the fact that the play with language has a wide proto-history as described by Van Boxsel at the end of his book. It delivers such gems as the Rabelesian parodies 17th century ‘Battle between frogs and mice’ or from 1666 the “anthology with 23 burlesque treatises on the praise of the egg, ant, louse, fly, grammar war, mud, shadow, deafness and so on. Including the will of a pig telling how its body should be anatomically correctly slaughtered”. Despite some of the defects mentioned above, its these kind of finds that make Het Carnaval van het Zijn into a fascinating book, generously illustrated in colour and black and white. What emerges from it is an extremely rich history, that although maybe niche due to its strong Dutch connotation, would nevertheless merit a translation into English. It took me a good month and a half to finish it in order to get fully to grips with all its wondrousness. At least I managed to write this review just in time for Carnaval.

References

[1] Satrap originally means a provincial governor in the ancient Persian empire. Van Boxsel unfortunately doesn’t provide a clear overview of all functions with the Collège.

[2] All translations are my own.