In the Shadow of Althusser 1963–1966 147
The situation soon became more serious. It rapidly became
obvious that Althusser was completely unable to help just when
the agrégatifs would have needed him most. In spite of his heavy
workload at the Sorbonne, and the texts he was writing, Derrida
took over without demur. ‘I don’t know where I am... I’ve just had
a sleep treatment,’ Althusser wrote to him shortly after the written
exams. ‘How are the lads? And how are you? I’ve gone and infl icted
this heavy chore on you without warning, despite really not wanting
to.’ Althusser was back in the hospital in Épinay-sur-Seine, where it
had been possible for some days past to visit him: ‘I hardly dare tell
you that I’d be overjoyed to see you, but it’s at the back of beyond.
[.. .] A heartfelt thank you for all that you are doing – and thank you
fi rst of all for being what you are, who you are.’^7 As he was often to
do, Derrida travelled to Épinay to see him in the clinic.
On 10 June, Althusser complained that he would need to endure
hospitalization for some time. ‘Serious relapses mean my return to
reality is not so easy.’ So he would not be able to see his pupils again
before the oral exams, as he had hoped. On 3 August, he started to
feel better, and wanted to express his thanks to Derrida: the agréga-
tion results of the philosophy students at the École were exceptional,
and he knew how much Derrida’s presence had helped. ‘I won’t go
into details, as you wouldn’t let me speak, but it’s true all the same.’^8
While Derrida was now aware of the seriousness of Althusser’s
psychological state, the latter also knew of the fragility to which his
former student was prone, and did not fail to mention this when
necessary. As Althusser wrote, as he gradually emerged from his
crisis:
I realized that you were more than a witness of my adventure:
not only did it force a huge amount of work on you, under
which you might have been crushed, but it must have left you
with a sort of bad taste, a lingering memory that took you back
to times that had been diffi cult for you. You were a witness, of
course, but also perhaps, through what was happening to me, a
witness (via a third party) of something that resembled the past.
For all that you have done and said to me, and also for all you
have kept to yourself, I am profoundly grateful.^9This aff ection, this closeness, would not fade over the years, at
least during the periods of Althusser’s depression and internment,
periods that returned almost every year: ‘I bless you for existing and
for being my friend,’ Althusser wrote to Derrida. ‘Keep up your
friendship for me. It counts among the few rare reasons I have for
believing that life (even when full of drama) is worth living.’^10
But this period, in which Althusser began psychoanalysis under
René Diatkine, was also when he wrote the texts that would soon