It is reasonable to assume that spatial practice, representations of space and representational spaces contribute in different ways to the production of space according to their qualities and attributes, according to the society or mode of production in question, and according to the historical period. Relations between the three moments of the perceived, the conceived and the lived are never either simple or stable, nor are they ‘positive’ in the sense in which this term might be opposed to ‘negative’, to the indecipherable, the unsaid, the prohibited, or the unconscious. Are these moments and their interconnections in fact conscious? Yes — but at the same time they are disregarded or misconstrued. Can they be described as ‘unconscious’? Yes again, because they are generally unknown, and because analysis is able – though not always without error — to rescue them from obscurity. The fact is, however, that these relationships have always had to be given utterance, which is not the same thing as being known – even ‘unconsciously’.
The Production of Space trans. by Donald Nicholson-Smith (Oxford: Blackwell, 1991) P.46
“Literature,” thought of as the interruption of myth, merely communicates – in the sense that what it puts into play, sets to work, and destines to unworking, is nothing but communication itself, the passage from one to another, the sharing of one by the other. What is at stake in literature is not just literature: in this, it is unlike myth, which communicates only itself, communicating its communion.
[…] literature inscribes being-in-common, being for others and through others.
The Inoperative Community, ed. by Peter Connor, trans. by Peter Conner, Lisa Garbus, Michael Holland, and Simona Sawhney (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1991), pp. 65-6.
I am an idiot by the suppression of thought, by the malformation of thought; I am vacant by the stupefaction of my tongue. […]
All the terms in which I choose to think are for me TERMS in the literal sense of the word, that is, true terminations, borders of my mental , of all the states to which I have subjected my thinking. I am truly LOCALIZED by my terms, and if I say that I am LOCALIZED by my terms, I means that I do not recognize them as valid in my thought. I am truly paralyzed by my terms, by a series of terminations. And however ELSEWHERE my thought may be at these moments, I have no choice but to bring it out through these terms, however contradictory to itself, however parallel, however ambiguous they may be, or pay the penalty of no longer being able to think. […]
What I lack is words that correspond to each minute of my state of mind.
‘The Nerve Meter’, in Antonin Artaud: Selected Writings, ed. by Susan Sontag, trans. by Helen Weaver (Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1976), pp. 83-84.