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this approach is that other, more interesting potential readings of Agamben’s oeuvre are
marginalized in favour of one master narrative.
Adam Kotsko’s Agamben’s Philosophical Trajectory, however, takes aim at this
monolithic interpretive strategy. He even chooses not to mention the Coronavirus
Pandemic to avoid such kind of distractions. The aforementioned reading strategy
ignores the multifarious shifts and turns in Agamben’s philosophical career and even
in the “Homo Sacer”-project itself. Agamben frequently changed his mind about the
ordering of the books in the overall project, often rephrased earlier arguments to t
newer concerns, and he even added chapters to Stasis and The Use of Bodies at the
very end, when the project was published separately in an omnibus edition. These are
not signs of a man who, with the publication of Homo Sacer in 1995, knew exactly
how the project would end in 2014. Nor is it very likely that Agamben would have
already developed his entire philosophy from the start of his career, as some claim. Many
concepts vanish or are rearticulated over the course of a career that spans more than 50
years. Whoever reads about Aristotle’s distinction between potentiality and act in The
Man without Content, Agamben’s rst book, will not recognize the “ocial” Agambenian
interpretation from almost 30 years later. Concepts central to his thought at some point,
like “Voice”, “whatever being”, or “testimony”, simply disappear in later books.
Kotsko chooses a dierent approach to writing an overview of Agamben’s
oeuvre. His concern does not rest on the discernment of a single philosophical
apparatus animating all of Agamben’s individual writings. Other interpreters tend to
reduce Agamben’s books to steps in a uniform argument about a single problematic,
like potentiality, anti-sovereign politics, or pandemic biopolitics. But, if this were truly
possible, then why would Agamben ever have written more than one book? If all his
texts amount to the same argument anyway, it seems that Agamben could have spared
himself the trouble of publishing almost 40 books. Kotsko, on the contrary, has read all
books in chronological order and simply reports his ndings without striving toward
a unied message. Aided by personal conversations with Agamben, he carefully tracks
the multiple thought processes, the promising hypotheses, and creative conclusions, but
also the mistakes, hesitations, and inconsistencies across Agamben’s texts to highlight
the discontinuities. Kotsko’s meticulous reading dismantles all hope of nding a single
arché-text in Agamben. He rather divides Agamben’s philosophical trajectory roughly
into four periods, though he emphasizes that there is never any hard break akin to a
Heideggerian Kehre. Old thoughts or assumptions never truly disappear, but become
rearticulated into new contexts. Likewise, concepts that seem to be new are often
already signaled in earlier texts without being fully elaborated upon.
In the rst phase, between the 1960s and ‘80s, Agamben is an almost aggressively
apolitical thinker interested in art and linguistics. If one would stop reading before the
‘90s, there would be no way of guessing that Agamben would become one of the most
famous political theorists today. He was entirely enveloped in philosophy of art and
the establishment of a so-called “general science of the human” built on a critique of
structuralist linguistics. According to Agamben, the structuralist denition of language
as a system of signs ignored that language actualizes itself only through human beings
actually speaking that language. This created, for Agamben, a productive rift in language