In Soviet Russia the language speaks you!

I haven’t really addressed how Deleuze and Guattari view language and linguistics, so I thought I’d give it a go. This time I’ll be looking into the fourth chapter or plateau in ‘A Thousand Plateaus: Capitalism and Schizophrenia’. The relevant part of the book is titled ‘November 20, 1923 – Postulates of Linguistics’ and I’ll be covering the first of these postulates, titled by the two (75):

“I. ‘Language Is Informational and Communicational’”

Summarizing Deleuze and Guattari, this is not the case, so no, language is not simply informational and communicational. I realize this is quite the spoiler at this point, but do go on, even if it seems redundant now. Anyway, instead, for them (75) language is highly functional and hardly neutral. They (76) are very clear on that:

“The elementary unit of language – the statement – is the order-word.”

In the notes, the translator, Brian Massumi (523) notes that the French original “Mot d’ordre” stands for slogan or password, the latter in the military sense (i.e sign-countersign: flash-thunder), as well as for word of order. Massumi (523) clarifies that it is used in two senses, as “a word or phrase constituting a command and a word or phrase creative of order.” In that sense there is this play on word orderorder word, but not in the neutral sense but as a command, to have an effect, but also as creating order. Clever. Works well with word order, if you didn’t get it. We’ll come back to that. Anyway, going against the first listed postulate, they (76) state:

“Rather than common sense, a faculty for the centralization of information, we must define an abominable faculty consisting in emitting, receiving, and transmitting order-words. Language is made not to be believed but to be obeyed, and to compel obedience.”

So, yes, it’s imperative (pun intended) for them that language is first and foremost about an exercise of power (made me think of Foucault here…) and the aim is to make people do things, whatever that may be. Getting to the grammar part, that I mentioned, Deleuze and Guattari (76) argue that:

“A rule of grammar is a power marker before it is a syntactical marker. The order does not refer to prior significations or to a prior organization of distinctive units. Quite the opposite.”

Here we have the wordplay I mentioned just a bit earlier. Order is used in the sense that the goal is to have order, of some sort, whatever that may be. When it comes to language being informational, they (76) state:

“Information is only the strict minimum necessary for the emission, transmission, and observation of orders as commands.”

Here, like with the word order or syntax, the information is considered a container, a necessity, but serving the order-word. So, yes, language does contain information, but it’s not informational. They (76) provide an example:

“One must be just informed enough not to confuse “Fire!” with “Fore!”

So, in order for that command to function, the information mustn’t be off. They (76) offer another example in which a message is relayed from one person to another, only to be distorted along the way. They use a Lewis Carroll example, but for me it’s virtually the same as the game we played as children, apparently known as telephone. We called it the broken telephone or the broken receiver (of the telephone). Anyway, the point is, as they (76) exemplify it, that the message gets or at least tends to get distorted from one receiver to another. It might be a command or an order, but if the information changes, then the conditions are no longer there for it.

What about communication then? Following Émile Benveniste, Deleuze and Guattari (76-77) argue that language is determined first and foremost by what they call indirect discourse, beeing (pun intended, read the original yourself) able to do what they (76) and I just exemplified, transmitting or relaying what was received from someone else. For those who are interested, it is pointed out in the notes (524) that this is from Benveniste’s (53) ‘Problems in General Linguistics’. In other words, Deleuze and Guattari (77) note that language is not communicational, even if it can be used to communicate, like in the case of observing something and then communicating that observation to someone else, as in the case of bees. This is why, Deleuze and Guattari (76) point out that language has to do with ‘hearsay’. Summing things up, so far, they (77) state:

“Language is not content to go from a first party to a second party, from one who has seen to one who has not, but necessarily goes from a second party to a third party, neither of whom has seen. It is in this sense that language is the transmission of the word as order-word, not the communication of a sign as information.”

So, it’s this infinity, one-t(w)o-three (A, B, C), instead of finite, one-two (A, B), one-two (A, B). Right, so, now, language does contain information and has to do with communicating, i.e. transmitting, or better, relaying, but it’s not about communicating that information, or rather not restricted to it, but extending to more than it. In summary, it’s not neutral. It’s hearsay.

Jumping to the next thing then, Deleuze and Guattari (77) point out, here in reference to my earlier pun, that the order-word should not be confused with what is known as the imperative. For them that’s only part of the story. Anyway, so, following Austin, that is J. L. Austin, not just any Austin, they (77) clarify their position:

“Austin’s famous theses clearly demonstrate that the various extrinsic relations between action and speech by which a statement can describe an action in an indicative mode or incite it in an imperative mode, etc., are not all there is.”

What is missing then, they (77) add that there are intrinsic relations between speech and actions, accomplished by performing them, so you get the performative, as well as the illocutionary. Summarizing Deleuze and Guattari (77-78), this has three effects on language. First, language is not a mere code to be deciphered for an explanation. It’s not limited to communicating information. Instead it clearly has an effect. It makes things happen, hence the order-word. Second, it’s not possible to work with “semantics, syntactics, or even phonematics” as separate from pragmatics, which for them is no longer reduced to some “trash heap” of linguistics but rather at the heart of it, affecting everything that has to do with language. Three, language is not distinct from speech. On the contrary language cannot be separated from speech. In the notes section, it is indicated by Massumi (524) that, following William Labov, that, ranging from Saussure to Chomsky, there is this paradox of studying the social aspect of language as social through an individual and the individual aspect through how it is used socially, between individuals. Paradox or no paradox, what I take from this is that one cannot separate language from action, so the interest in linguistics ought to be first and foremost on how it is used and for what purposes, rather than what it is, considering that it is defined by how it came to be, based on its use, emerging from below rather than as dictated from the top.

Following Oswald Ducrot, in the notes in reference to ‘Dire et nepas dire’ and ‘De Saussure a la philosophie du langage’, a preface to the French translations of John Searle’s Speech Acts, Deleuze and Guattari (78) challenge Benveniste, pointing out that, unlike as argued by Benveniste, the self-referentiality (the ‘I’, ‘you’ etc.) “cannot account for the performative”, rather the opposite. For them (78) then, “[t]he performative itself is explained by the illocutionary,” constituting “nondiscursive or implicit presuppositions.” They (78) add that the illocutionary is then determined by, what I’ve referred to a number of times in previous essays, collective assemblages of enunciation, which they clarify as “juridical acts or equivalent of juridical acts”, i.e. de jure or de facto acts (taken as equivalent, that’s the point), which, in opposition of Benveniste’s account, do not depend on the self-referentials but, “in fact determine their distribution.” So, opposing Benveniste, they (78) reiterate:

“Communication is no better a concept than information; intersubjectivity gets us no further than signifiance in accounting for these ‘statements-acts’ assemblages that in each language delimit the role and range of subjective morphemes.”

So, to be super clear, they (78-79) clarify that the referentials are the result, not the determinant. Getting back to the point about not confusing the order-word with the imperative, it’s imperative (just couldn’t help myself!) for them (79) to retain the distinction:

“We call order-words, not a particular category of explicit statements (for example, in the imperative), but the relation of every word or every statement to implicit presuppositions, in other words, to speech acts that are, and can only be, accomplished in the statement. Order-words do not concern commands only, but every act that is linked to statements by a ‘social obligation.’ Every statement displays this link, directly or indirectly. Questions, promises, are order-words. The only possible definition of language is the set of all order-words, implicit presuppositions, or speech acts current in a language at a given moment.”

This, at least the way I read it, goes back to the point about the role of pragmatics in language. It’s all about the here and now, internal to it, not something external and timeless. That’s why they (79) point out that “[t]he relation between the statement and the act is internal, immanent[.]” They (79) go on to add, however, that “it is not one of identity” rather one “of redundancy” between “the act and the statement.” So, going against the principle of minimal noise, that is to say minimizing any redundancy to avoid limiting the maximizing of information, they (79) reiterate “that information is only the minimal condition for the transmission of order-words[.]” Perhaps redundancy is not the best word here, so, I guess, one could speak of repetition instead, considering that it’s sort of unavoidable in the social context of language, that is to say that things get repeated by a number of people, hence the redundancy. As a side note, when you think of it, oddly enough, the subject words or referentials, i.e. pronouns, are there for the sake of repetition, albeit to avoid it that is, or, well, so I was taught in school. Anyway, as one who has read Deleuze and/or Guattari, this is hardly surprising, considering that for them identity emerges from … difference and repetition, which also happens to be the title of one of Deleuze’s books, if you didn’t know that already. I’d love to elaborate that more, but then I’d be on a proper tangent again. As I’ve stated in my previous essays on the two, it’s tricky to explain what they are after without going sideways, on a tangent after another tangent, which, in practice involves plenty of reading. Anyway, getting back on topic, they (79) argue that:

“There is no individual enunciation. There is not even a subject of enunciation.”

Instead they (80) argue in favor of understanding enunciation as social, but not extrinsic, existing outside people, thus implying collective assemblages. The individuation and subjectification of enunciation then for them (80) is a result of a collective assemblage, determined as a necessity inasmuch as it is required to be so in order to make sense of it all. They (80) jump back to indirect discourse, explaining that the collective assemblage determines and assigns the different subjectifications, individuations and how they interlock. Now, this is tricky to grasp if you are not familiar with the machinic side of assemblages, how different heterogeneous bodies exist and are in relation to one another at any given time. The paragraph under examination here is, well, a bit obscure, like going in circles with no center, granted, but the way I understand assemblage is that there is no privileged point in or to it. Now if you are part of the assemblage, I’m not surprised that you work from that angle, you, in your case the ‘I’, takes precedence, considering that it’s from your angle or perspective that things unfold. However, the point is, as explained a couple of times already, that the referentials are a result from how the bodies align in relation to one another. Anyway, so, they (80) point out that as language is social, or as I’d put it, you weren’t born with language, so the collective assemblage of enunciation takes precedence over individuals. Back to redundancy, they (80) summarize:

“We can no doubt define the collective assemblage as the redundant complex of the act and the statement that necessarily accomplishes it.”

No doubt, only to doubt themselves in the following sentence, they (80) acknowledge that they just stated is unlikely well justified. It’s a bit fuzzy why they argue that in this order, but then the book in question is not meant to read like just any book, for it’s a rhizome, consisting of plateaus. Going back to the juridical bit earlier on, they (80) expand on that notion:

“These acts seem to be defined as the set of all incorporeal transformations current in a given society and attributed to the bodies of that society. We may take the word ‘body’ in its broadest sense (there are mental bodies, souls are bodies, etc.).”

Not quite there yet, but anyway, here’s the point about bodies and their heterogeneity. Bodies are not just human bodies, animal bodies, but rather … entities. So, for example, we can say a like is a body of water and no one is actually confusing it with a corpse, regardless of whether there are corpses in the lake or not. A body of water is not even solid, yet, it is a body. Right, moving on, Deleuze and Guattari (80) continue:

“We must, however, distinguish between the actions and passions affecting those bodies, and acts, which are only noncorporeal attributes or the “expressed” of a statement.”

Okay, getting there, but do go on (80):

“When Ducrot asks what an act consists of, he turns precisely to the juridical assemblage, taking the example of the judge’s sentence that transforms the accused into a convict.”

So, in this example someone, a judge, having a certain position to do so, convicts someone else, transforming that someone, previously merely accused of something into someone who convicted of someone else, a convict. Their bodies remain the same in the sense that nothing changed beyond the conviction, but their position within the assemblage is altered. They are understood in a certain sense. It might be possible that there are corporeal transformations as well, as explained in the next bit, but that’s beside the point here. Deleuze and Guattari (80) explain this bit by bit:

“[W]hat takes place beforehand (the crime of which someone is accused), and what takes place after (the carrying out of the penalty), are actions-passions affecting bodies (the body of the property, the body of the victim, the body of the convict, the body of the prison); but the transformation of the accused into a convict is a pure instantaneous act or incorporeal attribute that is the expressed of the judge’s sentence.”

For Deleuze and Guattari (80-81) this is only one example of incorporeal transformations. They (81-82) list others, including the transformation of citizen into soldiers during a general mobilization, retirement, passage to adulthood (think of buying alcohol: you can’t, but then you can), ending up as a hostage and assets losing their value. So, to clarify what they deemed insufficient a while ago, they (81) state:

“The order-words or assemblages of enunciation in a given society (in short, the illocutionary) designate this instantaneous relation between statements and the incorporeal transformations or noncorporeal attributes they express.”

Following the number of examples they elaborate, they (82) note that enunciation alone isn’t sufficient to cause actual transformations. They (82) argue that circumstances must also be taken into consideration, that is to say who and what are involved, as well as where. They (82) point out that, for example, it has no effect to declare a mobilization if you are not in the position to do so. Same applies to professing one’s love to someone else if you and the other person are not in a relationship, as they point out (82). Of course you can do such, but it has no effect because the bodies involved and their relation to one another do not provide the required circumstances.

What about pragmatics? As mentioned a couple times already, Deleuze and Guattari (82) are very clear on this, calling it “a politics of language.” Linking to the previous paragraph, or two, they (82-83) they add the examples of different regimes and statements, pointing out that different machinic assemblages with different bodies have different collective assemblages of enunciation. So, for example, those statements or slogans used in National Socialist Germany, Fascist Italy and Soviet Russia are, while similar, simply not interchangeable as the assemblages differ from one another. Paying attention to Soviet Russia, they (83) argue that Lenin’s 1917 text ‘On Slogans’:

“[It] constituted an incorporeal transformation that extracted from the masses a proletarian class as an assemblage of enunciation before the conditions were present for the proletariat to exist as a body. A stroke of genius from the First Marxist International, which ‘invented’ a new type of class: Workers of the world, unite!”

Still on Lenin (83) they add:

“Taking advantage of the break with the Social Democrats, Lenin invented or decreed yet another incorporeal transformation that extracted from the proletarian class a vanguard as an assemblage of enunciation and was attributed to the “Party,” a new type of party as a distinct body, at the risk of falling into a properly bureaucratic system of redundancy.”

Before moving on with this, this makes me think of how you can think of Marx is anticipating a certain development and Lenin, well, not content on waiting for it to happen. Anyway, they (83) tie the argument to the order-word, in French ‘mot d’ordre’, also standing for slogan:

“Lenin declared that the slogan … ‘All power to the Soviets’ was valid only from the 27th of February to the 4th of July for the peacetime development of the Revolution, and no longer held in the state of war; the passage from peace to war implied this transformation, not just from the masses to a guiding proletariat, but from the proletariat to a directing vanguard. July 4 exactly the power of the Soviets came to an end.”

They (83) note that this may seem off, considering that things didn’t pan out that great for the Soviets, at least not during the peacetime, but that’s sort of the point here, moving from one thing to another, quite conveniently. Opening up the word ‘Soviet’ is helpful here. Simply put, as explained in the Oxford English Dictionary, it (OED, s.v. “Soviet”, n. and adj.) means a council, and more specifically:

“In the U.S.S.R.: one of a number of elected councils which operated at all levels of government, having legislative and executive functions.”

Now it makes more sense to simply argue for all power to the councils, considering that the Czar was on his way out at the time. Back to Deleuze and Guattari, so, they (83) emphasize:

“[T]he fact remains that the incorporeal transformation was uttered on the 4th of July, prior to the organization of the body to which it would be attributed, namely, the Party itself.”

If it wasn’t clear already, there is a movement from masses of people to a class of people and then to something which is not exactly that class, but its vanguard. Those not familiar with the word, it means, among other things, the leadership of a movement, with specific relevance here (OED, s.v. “vanguard”, n.):

“In Communism, the elite party cadre which, according to Lenin, would be used to organize the masses as a revolutionary force and to give effect to communist planning.”

Now, attention ought to be paid to the progression here, as I already pointed out. There is something rather contradictory in ending the reign of the Czar in favor of councils, shifting power from an absolute monarch (and his bureaucrats) to the people, flattening the pyramid, only to then shift it back to a pyramid. There is nothing quite like going for equality, I assume that was the goal, but then elevating some above the equals. All this may seem like a tangent and I’m not even referring to me attempting to explain certain words and how replacing a pyramid with a pyramid results in a pyramid, but to Deleuze and Guattari (83) who point out that what they are on about is actually relevant:

“If the objection is leveled that these specific features pertain to politics and not linguistics, it must be observed how thoroughly politics works language from within, causing not only the vocabulary but also the structure and all of the phrasal elements to vary as the order-words change.”

Simply put, you cannot separate language from people and pragmatics is at the heart of it. You cannot separate language and bodies, as they (83) point out:

“A type of statement can be evaluated only as a function of its pragmatic implications, in other words, in relation to the implicit presuppositions, immanent acts, or incorporeal transformations it expresses and which introduce new configurations of bodies. True intuition is not a judgment of grammaticality but an evaluation of internal variables of enunciation in relation to the aggregate of the circumstances.”

It should be rather clear by now that, at least for Deleuze and Guattari, language cannot be separated from the assemblages. They (83) clarify that language is not always the same, i.e. static, as “the assemblages combine in a regime of signs or a semiotic machine.” Moreover, they (83-84) add that there can be multiple regimes in a society, existing as a mixture. They (84) then explain indirect discourse, as they noted they would earlier on (78), in a rather redundant way:

“[It] is the presence of a reported statement within the reporting statement, the presence of an order-word within the word.”

Language then, they (84) continue, adding even more redundancy:

“Language in its entirety is indirect discourse.”

Further clarifying their position on how redundant all this is, how we get direct discourse from indirect discourse, they (84) add:

“[D]irect discourse … is extracted from [indirect discourse] to the extent that the operations of signifiance and proceedings of subjectification in an assemblage are distributed, attributed, and assigned, or that the variables of the assemblage enter into constant relations, however temporarily.”

So, we still have indirect discourse. In other words, to be more specific, they (84) clarify:

“Direct discourse is a detached fragment of a mass and is born of the dismemberment of the collective assemblage; but the collective assemblage is always like the murmur from which I take my proper name, the constellation of voices, concordant or not, from which I draw my voice. I always depend on a molecular assemblage of enunciation that is not given in my conscious mind, any more than it depends solely on my apparent social determinations, which combine many heterogeneous regimes of signs.”

This is probably not specific enough for many, as this is going in circles, redundantly, so I’ll let them (84) continue:

“To write is perhaps to bring this assemblage of the unconscious to the light of day, to select the whispering voices, to gather the tribes and secret idioms from which I extract something I call my Self[.]”

I realize this is probably going to seem ropier by each example, with all this redundancy, but do carry on with this. It’s going to seem even ropier, but bear with me. They (84) stress that:

I is an order-word.”

Okay, right, this is still alright, but the next one, wait for it, they (84) specify this:

“A schizophrenic said: ‘I heard voices say: he is conscious of life.’”

Right, that must seem as ropy as it’ll get, but with regards to discourse, whether direct or indirect, it is stated in the notes (525), in reference to David Cooper’s book ‘The Language of Madness’, that when hearing voices one is plugged to the indirect discourse … erm … the murmur (I think of Foucault again), I guess. In the plateau they (84) comment this further:

“In this sense, there is indeed a schizophrenic cogito, but it is a cogito that makes self-consciousness the incorporeal transformation of an order-word, or a result of indirect discourse.”

So, right, in other words, the schizophrenic is just abnormally self-conscious of how ‘I’ is an extraction, direct from indirect. They (84) elaborate how order-words affect people, how, when relayed, from A to B and from B to C, one feels absolved from commanding if commanded to do so, i.e. when carrying out orders. Having experienced military service, there is never anything personal to commands and obeying them, at least supposedly, that’s how it works, and one just does what one is told, no biggie, I’m just carrying out orders type of a thing. No matter how far out the command is, you obey. That’s of course not on you, it’s on the one who commanded you, offering you to escape consequences beyond that command. A superior, typically a commanding officer, the one you assigned directly above you as your direct superior, can make you do more or less anything, say, wash their car personal car (I remember this as an example that was given back then), and you have to obey that command. That’s how rank works. Of course that’s a silly peacetime example, but, as pointed out in the notes (525) in reference Elias Canetti’s book ‘Crowds and Power’, the commands sting, hardening people and making them look for outlets for it, turning to others, absolving one of guilt from, for example, war crimes. There was this expression in military, not official, but people of course knew of it, how … the s … feces flows downwards, through the ranks. If something wasn’t going well, the officers, somewhere up there, higher up, would not be happy, which resulted in commands that sought to discipline those directly responsible, namely the non-commissioned officers (the NCOs, below them, but above the grunts). It may be that the grunts were not disciplined enough, or not, it makes little difference what the deal was, but the command from the officers to the NCOs stung them, which then led to commands from the NCOs to the grunts, stinging them. The way it works is through the chain of command, which I think is a very fitting way to put it here. There can be cases where the command is out of line, as mentioned earlier, but that is remedied through the proper channels, not through insubordination. This is also mentioned in the notes (525), when the one commanding ends up being stung by those commanded. Does the chain of command really absolve people, for example grunts commanded to gun down people? Well, no, it goes against common sense, as elaborated in the notes (525), but then again, as also indicated in the notes, it’s not that simple. As I’ve discussed in an earlier essay, discipline and punish work wonders on people.

While this might get less ropy now, it’s probably still quite confusing. Returning to language, which earlier on was defined by the two (84) as indirect discourse or ‘hearsay’, they state:

“It is evident that order-words, collective assemblages, or regimes of signs cannot be equated with language. But they effectuate its condition of possibility (the superlinearity of expression), they fulfill in each instance this condition of possibility; without them, language would remain a pure virtuality (the superlinear character of indirect discourse). Doubtless, the assemblages vary, undergo transformation. But they do not necessarily vary by language, they do not correspond to the various languages.”

So, in less complex terms, using language cannot be separated from language, otherwise it would remain virtual, in the real of potentiality, as indirect discourse. In the second bit, it is added that assemblages and languages do not reflect one another. They may or they may not. They (85) point out that, in general:

“A language seems to be defined by the syntactical, semantic, phonological constants in its statements[.]”

In clear contrast then, they (85) add:

“[T]he collective assemblage, on the contrary, concerns the usage of these constants in relation to variables internal to enunciation itself (variables of expression, immanent acts, or incorporeal transformations).”

So, you have this shift from constants and universals to variables (varieties) and particulars. In summary then, they (85) state:

“Different constants, different languages, may have the same usage; the same constants in a given language may have different usages, successively or even simultaneously.”

But they are not exactly happy with this separation and therefore (85) assert that:

“We cannot content ourselves with a duality between constants as linguistic factors that are explicit or potentially explicit, and variables as extrinsic, nonlinguistic factors.”

In other words, they are not happy with having constants or universals as being tied to language and treating everything else, what it is that we encounter, all that variation and particularity as something separate from language. Why? Well, they (85) clarify:

“For the pragmatic variables of usage are internal to enunciation and constitute the implicit presuppositions of language.”

So, in opposition of constants or universals, they (85) reiterate a previous claim of theirs (84-85) that languagefunction is coextensive with language:

“Thus if the collective assemblage is in each instance coextensive with the linguistic system considered, and to language as a whole, it is because it expresses the set of incorporeal transformations that effectuate the condition of possibility of language and utilize the elements of the linguistic system.”

This means that you can’t consider language as something beyond people, which people merely apply in a certain way that is this and/or that close or far from the constants. Instead, it’s all here and now, as I already pointed out. Going back to where this all started, building what is stated here, they (85) argue that:

“The language-function thus defined is neither informational nor communicational; it has to do neither with signifying information nor with intersubjective communication. And it is useless to abstract a signifiance outside information, or a subjectivity outside communication. For the subjectification proceedings and movement of signifiance relate to regimes of signs, or collective assemblages.”

All this was, more or less, pointed out some pages back, that, functionally, language is not merely informational, nor communicational, but tied to the assemblages, to how language is actually used by people, where and when. So, when it comes to the language-function, they (85) assert:

“The language-function is the transmission of order-words, and order-words relate to assemblages, just as assemblages relate to the incorporeal transformations constituting the variables of the function.”

It may seem rather circular, or, redundant, but strictly speaking it is not. How? Well, one would need to explain much of the whole book. I’ve done that to some extent, only to be at a loss of words. ‘A Thousand Plateaus’ is not supposedly unfold to the reader in neatly linear order, so there’s always something missing, at least for the reader. I might well be fine with it, having delved into the texts of Deleuze and Guattari, but I reckon this might make little sense to those who haven’t. Anyway, I’ll let the two (85) summarize their own thoughts:

“Linguistics is nothing without a pragmatics (semiotic or political) to define the effectuation of the condition of possibility of language and the usage of linguistic elements.”

So, indeed, language is not something that exists outside people and in their view linguistics, i.e. the study of language, cannot be separated from how language is used. What matters, at least for me, is not how it is, but what it does. This is actually only the first part of their treatment of linguistics in the book. I intended to cover it all in one go, but, well, it turned out to be quite the chore to address only the first part, or postulate as they call it.


  • Austin, J. L. ([1955] 1962). How to Do Things with Words (J. O. Urmson, Ed.). Oxford, United Kingdom: Oxford University Press.
  • Benveniste, É. (1971). Problems of General Linguistics (M. E. Meek, Trans.). Coral Gables, FL: University of Miami Press.
  • Canetti, E. ([1960] 1963). Crowds and Power (C. Stewart, Trans.). New York, NY: Viking Press.
  • Cooper, D. G. (1978). The Language of Madness. London, United Kingdom: Allen Lane.
  • Deleuze, G. ([1968] 1994). Difference and Repetition (P. Patton, Trans.). New York, NY: Columbia University Press.
  • Deleuze, G., and F. Guattari ([1980] 1987). A Thousand Plateaus: Capitalism and Schizophrenia (B. Massumi, Trans.). Minneapolis, MN: University of Minnesota Press.
  • Ducrot, O. (1980). Dire et ne pas dire: principes de sémantique linguistique. Paris, France: Hermann.
  • Ducrot, O. (1972). De Saussure à la philosophie du langage. In J. R. Searle, Les actes de langage: Essai de philosophie linguistique (H. Pauchard, Trans.) (pp. 734). Paris, France: Hermann.
  • Lenin, V. I. ([1917] 1964). On Slogans. In V. I. Lenin, Collected Works, Vol. 25 (S. Apresyan and J. Riordan, Eds. Trans.) (pp. 185192). Moscow, Soviet Union: Progress Publishers.
  • Oxford English Dictionary Online (n. d.). Oxford, United Kingdom: Oxford University Press.