278 Derrida 1963–1983
an author by setting him on a ‘stage’ that was at once huge and
yet always intimate, whose confi guration we would not have
suspected hitherto. Although Derrida actually always sought in
his writings and his teaching the greatest demonstrative clarity,
this teaching was demanding, and what was at issue in it could
often evade many people. [.. .] [Derrida,] who one day gave as
a rule ‘not to smooth out the folds’, very quickly set you in the
midst of them, probably with the idea that practising philo-
sophy meant taking an interest, right from the start, in certain
complications, and accepting them.^28
Work with students at the École was highly individualized. In
spite of an already overburdened timetable, Derrida would devote
a great deal of time to seeing the students in his offi ce on the fi rst
fl oor, and paid an unusual degree of attention to the worries of each
of them. As Kambouchner recalls: ‘Everything that came from him,
gestures, verbal replies, was energetic and at the same time very con-
centrated. Never any approximation, never any slackening; frequent
pauses. He was there in front of you, already at that period, like a
block of power and memory.’^29
Whatever their diff erent philosophical positions, Althusser,
Pautrat, and Derrida continued to form a pedagogical trio that
most of the students greatly appreciated. Each piece of work sub-
mitted by students was corrected twice over, leading to a detailed
analysis. And almost every Tuesday, the three caïmans met to listen
to the ‘practice lectures’ given by the agrégatifs. Souleymane Bachir
Diagne, a student at the end of the 1970s, remembers these sessions
clearly:
Practising the ‘lecture’ was an important moment: everyone had
to present a class on the subject which the caïmans had chosen
for us, then they would ‘take over’. Derrida had the fabulous
ability, in his comments, to gauge what the student’s intention
had been, then what had become of it in his lecture, and why. He
had a remarkable way of seeing the arguments of other people
from the inside. Over and above the agrégation, he really helped
me to make progress in my own way of thinking. While I was
at the École, I submitted two pieces of writing to him: an essay
on Nietzsche’s Genealogy of Morals, then a text on philosophy
in Africa and discussions on the very idea of ‘African philoso-
phy’. Derrida had talked to me about this work, and eventually
advised me to ‘think of it all together’. This had intrigued
me: for me, an essay on Nietzsche and a text on African phi-
losophy had comprised two diff erent exercises on unrelated
subjects. But that’s just it: what Derrida taught me with this
remark, which I have thought about, was that they weren’t just