POLITICAL THINKING AND, CONSEQUENTLY, WRITING ABOUT politics have traditionally made use of certain master tropes that remain constant in principle even when the nature and content of political discourse change. At the foundation of Western political thought, for instance, is the trope of the dialectical relationship between man in the state of nature (that is, man fending for himself and caring for the propagation of his species) and man in the domain of culture (that is, man in the embrace of community, of polis, of an organism that, ideally, is himself writ large, but that also dominates him, subjecting him to a necessity beyond the easily graspable one of his own needs and instincts). Among the archetypal scenes of politics are those that reveal the reverberation between these poles of unity and fragmentation, wholeness and separation. Achilles sulking in his tent, the tribes of Israel retreating after the death of Solomon, the Roman plebs leaving the city for the Mons Sacra in the time of Coriolanus, the secession to the tennis court in prerevolutionary France: we recognize in such historical and fictional scenes ur-configurations of political intercourse. An organism purporting to be a whole (a kingdom, a republic, a military expedition, an assembly) splits into parts, revealing itself to be an uneasy association of warlords, a hierarchy of classes, or a tenuous alliance of tribes. Politics is about division more than it is about unity. But the discourse of politics (as opposed to the history of political action), a discourse that occupies a rhetorical space between the opposing poles of fragmentation and wholeness, exploits the resources of both extremes, deriving as much energy from images of wholeness and totality as it does from the language of dismemberment and fission. Political writings that attempt to analyze and describe the phenomena of the great wealth-creating and labor-exploiting industrial cities of the nineteenth century inevitably grapple with a spectacle of pervasive division. The city (London, Manchester, Paris) is a mass of people living in close proximity, but the people are separated from each other by great barriers of money and class. In Capital Marx quotes a London newspaper that describes not a riot or a rebellion but quotidian urban life during a severe economic depression in 1867: