Abstract

A few years ago, while reading Sartre’s ‘reflections on the Jewish question’ in the course of a seminar on Being and Nothingness,1 I was literally dumbfounded by the uncanny similarity between some of Sartre’s expressions and what I had written myself under the influence of authors like Lyotard or Lacan, whom I took to be his antipodes. The more I read, the less difference I saw and the more I underwent a kind of depersonalisation.

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