Paul Moyaert, "The Phenomenology of Eros: A Reading of Totality and Infinity, IV.B." in
"The Face of the Other and the Trace of God: Essays on the Philosophy of Emmanuel
Levinas." ed. Jeffrey Bloechl (New York: Fordham University Press, 2000).
2
’
The Phenomenology of Eros:
A Reading of Totdty and
Infinity, 1V.B
P a d Moyaert
I WILL LIMIT MYSELF to a fragmentary reading of the chapter from
Totality and Znfinity entitled “The Phenomenologyof Eros,” a chapter which, the existence of numerous commentaries and annotations
notwithstanding, still can appearas a1nbiguous and incomprehensive
as the very play of eros and desire for the beloved which it both
evokes and describes.
The existential phenomena that Levinas takes up are not alien to
philosophical discourse. However, in his analysis he does show how
in these recognizable experiences thereis at work an existential logic
which escapes the conceptual framework of a certain ontology and
which dislocates from inside out a certain conception of the ego’s
relation to itself and to the Other (TeI 250/TZ272). In the same way,
an analysis of how parents devote themselves to their children shows
that that responsibility cannot be measured in ternls of autonomous
freedom, cannot be founded in a free decision one takes upon oneself, and by definition cannot be limited to what one, as a parent, has
in his or her own power. Thechild invokes a responsibility inlife-in
my life-that
reaches further than my life. In the child, I as his or
her parent relate myself to an independent and alien future which
takes its course without me and which does
not coincide with my
own controllable future; I am related to a future that reaches infinitely further, to the far side of my own life and death; I am related
to a future without a final point of arrival in any present moment.
Erotic desire, such as Levinas describes it, must be distinguished
from the love which occurs simply as caring for another person: the
Puul Moyaert
31
erotic relation involves being in love with the Otherin a way perhaps
best expressed by the phrase“madly in love.” Erotic desire mustalso
be distinguished from the ecstatic passion that excludes all reciprocity with the beloved and is consumed only with desire for an unreachable Other-even though the momentary intensity of erotic pleasure
points at the same time
to the dizzying possibility, but also sometinles
destructive dynamic,of an impassioned desire.
I. E R O T I C D E S I R E A N DBEING IN LOVE
To be in love is to no longer be oneself. The other person has suddenly completely taken over the place of one’s own ego. The penetrating and obsessive presence of the Other seizes the ego in such a
way and to such a degree that it loses all independence. The ego is
so full of the Other that it is no longer itself. All at once, I am no
longer anything without the Other whois everything to me and who
means everything to me. The Other is everything and I am nothing.
Nothing in my life has meaning without the Other.This is why someone in love is so intensely-to the point of madness-dependent on
the Other. Oneis so captivated by the beloved that one can think of
nothing and no one else; one can no longer sleep or eat. In those
moments of delightful folly, everything in me andof me, everything
that distinguishes and separates me from the Other, is too much for
me. It is in this way that someone caught up in an overly forceful
passion can desire to no longerexist. But the contrary can also come
about. Just as the Otheris everything for me, I want at thesame time
to see the perfect and unique Other as my fascinated prisoner, that
is to say, to see that the belovedis completely under my spell. When
one has fallen in love,self-destruction and hetero-aggression are
never far off. The least degree of remoteness or resistance in the
Other might therefore be already enough to leave me feeling worthless and superfluous. If the Other whom I love wants nothing to do
with me, thennothing elsehas any meaning. This aggressive devalorization of oneself can also strike back in aggression and even hate
against this Other who no longer supports or answers
to the image I
have of unique perfection.
The lover lives in a totally disordered world. He or she no longer
recognizes the distinction, so important for every intentional act, be-
32
RELATIONS WITH OTHERS
tween what is relevant and irrelevant, interesting and futile, significant and insignificant. The lover inhabits a world on the hither side
of this distinction, a disordered world in which this distinction has
lost its structuring function. The lover knows not one moment of rest,
cannot remain still before a single detail in the face of the beloved,
and loses all feel for harmony, all sense of balance. The smallest disturbance and the least hesitation immediately take dramatic and extraordinary proportion. In love, the relation to the beloved is of a
fundamentally different nature than the relation to beauty, “to a
weightless grace” (Tel 240-41/TI 262-63). According to Lacan,
whom I read on this point as the echo of Levinas, to behold beauty
is for one’s gaze to turn inward, to come to a st0p.l The harmony of
the beautiful radiates peace and makes the eyes close. This peace is
not granted to the lover.
In this fascinated, even ecstatic being-outside-oneself, the lover is
not aimed at a concrete, corporeal Other, but rather captivated only
by a delightful image from which it is impossible to get free. Moreover, the object of love is idealized to such a degree that it is a matter
here of an almost supernatural, supersensible Other. This excessive,
quasi-incorporeal perfection transports the lover into ecstasy.
But this is precisely why one becomes so completely confused by
that Other, for there is an intimate relationship between the self and
the Other. As Freud and Kierkegaard understood, in the Other who
remains beyond reach one beholds and adores the representation
of one’s own narcissistic completion. This kind of love draws on a
narcissistic identification with the love-object whereby the ego loves
itself in the Other and finds in the Other the complementary substitute for its own self. Levinas, too, discerns the fiindamental immanence and underlying natural relation with the beloved (TeI 232/TI
254). He also speaks of a relationship with a “sister soul” such that
every union with the beloved in a certain respect stands always already under the sign of an incestuous reunion with oneselfa2For that
matter, this interpretation is also partly justified by the ambiguity of
an enjoyment which, in spite of all else, circles out from but also back
into itself. But at the same time, the erotic crosses through every
attempt to reduce one’s relation to the beloved to the moment of
amorous blindness, While from a psychological perspective erotic
desire can draw on a fascination with the idealized and ideal loveobject, erotic love already involves another relation to the beloved,
Paul Moyaert
33
because it is precisely this concrete, individual, corporeal Other that
one desires, and no one elsee3One is no longer exclusively attached
to a captivating image but aims at a physically incarnate Other. In
contrast with being in love, eros, as Levinas understands it, already
presupposes having been arrested and disturbed by the vulnerability
of the human face. Or, in contrast with the love of a concrete person,
there is a kind of love in which one is captivated by the wholly unreachable Other (e.g., in hysteria) or by God (e.g., in mystical love).4
A love-relation is distinguished by a hypersensitive attention for the
concrete, which is of another nature than the restless obsession of
an amorous subject. In love, one is concerned for the Other, full of
compassion for the beloved’s vulnerability; one feels with the Other
in a manner which cannot be reduced to pity. One is through and
through softness and sensitivity for the rhythm of the beloveds
breathing, the lines in his or her face, the slope of the cheeks, and
the moist blink of the eyes. In this sensitivity for barely perceptible
details, one is attached to something in the Other by which he or she
withdraws from and escapes a captivating image or representation,
“soliciting what ceaselessly escapes its form” (Tel235/Tl257).
11. THE INTRIGUE O F THE PERSONAL AND THE
IMPERSONAL I N EROS
In eros, one is not moved exclusively by the supernatural beauty of
the beloved, but by the sublime beauty which already submits to the
weight of a body. One is attracted by something in and of the physically incarnate face by which the beloved’s unreal and inaccessible
beauty is already tangible and in play. One is attracted by the possible clouding of the Other’s pure gaze, by the already all too carnal,
troubled surface of a facial expression which is still fragile, by all the
bodily signs indicating that the beloved has already lost perfect selfcontrol.
The erotic originates not in fascination with the inaccessible or
unreachable as such, but in the softening and the caresses which are
its physical expression. This softening is a sensitivity for the concrete,
the ultra-concrete, for the tender, for what is so fragile and vulnerable that the lover seems to give way, even to pull back in his or her
drive to make the feminine available to touch (Tel 233-34/Tl 256-
34
OTHERS
WITHRELATIONS
57).The intrusive and also seductive weakness of the feminine cannot
be touched without either anxiety or reticence. It is as if the lover
is apprehensive before what he or she is already also attracted to:
apprehensive at the betrayal of a secret no longer able to protect
itself, at theprofanation and indecentcontamination of what is taboo,
at the defilement of what just now was SO untouched, so virginal and
pure, and at tarnishing whatis at risk of losing its grace.
The vulnerable is vulnerable only in tension with what threatens
to overflow the fragile from inside out. In this vulnerability, the
feminine seems to be able to rise up before succumbing to the carnal
violence of anonymous drives. The tender lies
on an ungraspable and
ambiguous line between, on the one hand, an exorbitant nudity and
an excess of being, and on the other hand, a non-being that is too
weak and too volatile to be able or even willing to uphold itself. “In
the caress . . . the body already denudes itself of its very form, offering itselfas erotic nudity” (TeZ235-36/TZ 258).The erotic takes place
in the infinitetransition between the face that remains present in
disappearingandthealreadyimpersonal
underside thatbreaks
through in the ripple of facial expressions, or in the infinite between
of the face and its disfiguration. Sexual pleasure isas it were the
repetition and lifelike mise-en-she of the irresistible cycle of life
and death to which each ofus separate organisms is subject. “An
amorphous non-I sweeps away the I into an absolute future where it
escapes itself and loses its position as subject” (TeZ 237/TZ 259).
The erotic withdraws itself and maintains itself in a world that
no longer has anything in common with this world. The desire for
unconditional physical contact with the Other erases the distinctions
between interestingversusrepulsiveandattractive
versus repugnant. In this momentary transgressive movement, nothing remainsof
distinctions which retain their power in the order of the profane. In
the dimension beyond
the face, the feminine speaks not a single word
which is true. However, the falling away of all seriousness is not at
all ponderous or burdensome.Animal playfulness and the frivolity of
erotic nudity are comprised of precisely this (TeZ 241/TZ 263). Caresses pass over into obscene words which have nothing more to
signify. The feminine laughs at the otherwise all-important distinctions between sincerity and acting
as if, between seriousness and
play. One laughs at philosophers who offer deadly serious descrip-
”
L..
.
Paul Moyaert
35
tions pointing to an order in which the serious is nevertheless totally
absent. So, too, does the rather strained behavior of the lover who,
while making love, sometimes begins to act as if his or her life or I
do not know what stake depends on it,sometimes appear particularly
funny or ludicrous.
As a transcending movement, the caress goes past the face (TeZ
242/TZ 264). It brings us into contact with, on the one hand, what
still lies beyond the face, and on the other hand, what the face has
left behind, that is to say, with the bare fact of human existence. The
erotic, as the most in.timate andpersonal communication with the
physical Other, is at the same time contact with the impersonal in
the Other. For in the obscenity of extravagant nudity, everyrecognizable and distinct form of the Other stands at the brink of disappearing. In nudity, everyone is the 'same. This is why someone who is
naked can be so vulnerable (the transcendence that lies beyond the
face is not a deeper reality or sourceof meaning, and still less does it
take onthe form of a hidden richness).Beyond the face, all significant
differences disappear and an inhuman and .unbearable anonymity
threatens to return. But in contrast with the irrepressible and all too
direct relation with what Levinas c a l l s ~ h ~y ,a,~ lthe erotic contact
-.. us with
with the nocturnal underside
of our existence.4oes-not
strike.
panic, anxiety, or disgust. This is possible only because the impersonal and amorphous non-ego of cries, respiration, muscles, flesh,
and blood, its proximity notwithstanding, at the same time also remains at a distance, with its all too intrusive presence continuing to
point to the humanface that, blurs. Wjthhvt thg. facrxching support
from a recognizable face, the otherwise too brutal and too immediate
contact with the impersonal exterior would take on monstrous and
hideous forms. In the endlessturno-yer o f , t ~ e , $ ? ~ ~ o n t i n(the
~ou
dif~
ferentiated) intoa gaping continuity (the indifferent),and in theinfinitely futural passage of the formed into the formless, there must
always remain a trace of what is on the brink of disappearing. In the
almost nothing or almost no more of blurring and fading, the face
must remain visible. Disfiguration supposesthe face (TeZ24O/TI 262);
penetrating indiscretion implies respectfor the face (TeZ 241/TI 264),
and far-reaching, disenchanting profanation supposes what already
exists as radiance and significance (TeI 244lTZ 266-67).
t,,-.
36
OTHERS
WITHRELATIONS
111. T H E ESSENTIAL AMBIGUITY O F LOVE: AUTOAFFECTION AND TRANSCENDENCE
In caressing (touching, feeling, stroking), the hand loses its instrumental meaning and its mastery. The I who caressesis not an I who
isin control of oneself. For to touch the Other also means to be
touched from outside by that Other. In feeling the Other, which is
also being felt by the Other, theego-subject is taken hold of by what
it feels and also by that feeling itself. The I finds itself no longer in
the position of an untouched third person or an unmoved outsider:
one loses control over oneself. In feeling, one’s passivity and activity
are entangled in one another: feeling and being felt, stroking
and
being stroked, sucking and being sucked. Physical attraction to the
Other is thus always at the sametime also auto-affection, but without
the self in that circuit ever occupying either itsproper starting point
or its ultimate end point. The subject comes loose from itself but at
the same time remains bound to itself. “Love does not transcend
unequivocably” (TeZ244/TZ 266). The touching hand is not directed
to grasping or possessing the Other. Stroking does not seek possession; in possession, pleasure as such has alreadyexhausted itself.
Pleasure means being possessed by the Other‘s being-outside-itself.
Feeling is not liberated in touching or by stroking; rather, it spirals
endlessly downward, drawnpowerlessly into an abyssal depth. In the
unclosed circuit between the self and the Other, the caress circles
emptily and in vain, fed by an insatiable hunger. In this dynamic
which can be neither stopped nor stanched, the subject
is turned
fruitlessly inside out:one is passionately grasped by the incomprehensible. In this intrigue, it is no longer possible to say who feels whom
and who is caressed by whom. Together, the two lovers form a confbsed and self-enclosed unity, and so, in their self-satisfaction, close
themselves from the rest of the world. Any reference to a possible
exterior standpoint has disappeared.
Still, this doesnot go all the way to a fusion in which each loverin
his or her separate independence is taken up into a higher unity.
Whereas in pleasure I ant in a sense the Other, the Other still remains irreducibly separate from me. Itis precisely this inconquerable
separation in unity-a proximity in distance and a distance in proximity-which accounts for the keenness of desire and the momentary
intensity of pleasure.
Paul Moyaert
37
In pleasure, one is outside onesew one no longer belongs to oneself, but is in and of the Other. Nothing remains hidden; one abandons oneselfto the Other. Thephysical I becomes an outside without
depth, without interiority. But at the same time, the Other, as feminine, also withdraws from pleasure, fully back into him- or herself,
into mystery (TeZ 254/TZ 276). The Other withdrawsfrom pleasure as
animal self-satisfaction, as pure egoistic voluptuousness, escaping me
in the very moment of unconditional surrender. Pleasure is therefore
not mutual and complementary fulfillment of two lovers. The Otller
is swallowed up by a pleasure that doesnot permit itself to be shared.
And this is a pleasure that the one who experiences it does not control. It is as if the Other enjoys me only in him- or herself, and in
spite of me. Precisely this loss of all control constitutes.this pleasure.
All possible “knowledge” and controlover that whi.ch the Other now
will ultimately take pleasure in-a recurring fantasy in perversionmeans the destruction of pleasure. In the paroxysm of pleasurable
abandon, one is no longer present to oneself in person. One loses
concern with one’s own image. One is no longer interested in seeing
how the Other actually enjoys him- or herself or how one-!night be
seen by the Other (who would take the position of the third person,
by which one could then identifv oneself). One therefore goes to the
extreme in an irresistible, impersonal play of drives.
Erotic pleasure is characterized by complicity between a mutual
dependence and a unilateral drivenness of the respective partners (of
a self-abandon and egoistic voluptuousness which can .no longer be
controlled). Sexual pleasure does not seek the discharge of tension,
and a i m even less at the rele.ase ofde5jKe (TeZ 244/TZ 266). It is
rather the case that,such a release overtakes enjoyment, making-at
least in a certain respect-a brusque and unwanted end to the ecstatic being-outside-oneselfof pleasure. In that release, onefalls back
on oneself without the promise of an impossible satisfaction having
been redeemed. Pleasure is pleasure in and desire for the pleasure
of the Other(TeZ 244/TZ 266), that is to say, the pleasure of the Other
who is taken outside of him- or herself by pleasure in my physical
being-there. In this dependence, onestill remains attached to oneself
in auto-affection: pleasure for oneself through the fact that the Other
enjoys me, while the enjoying subject at the same time almost loses
itself in the transcending movement which this
involves. Without this
play, pleasure is not possible. But the reciprocal independence which
38
RELATIONS WITH OTHERS
it involves is interesting only when both partners take their pleasure
separately and despite the Other (in other words, it is unbearable to
me for the Other to offer him- or herself non-egoistically, so that I
may enjoy myself), andalso despite oneself (in other words, because
it is stronger than oneself). Love is not interesting unless one loves
to be loved and desires to be loved. “I love fully only if the other
loves me” (TeZ244/TZ 266). Thanks to that love, I can enjoy the fact
that I am worthy of love and desirable. However, this play of desire
is also interesting only on the condition that the Other does not love
me merely because I desire to be loved. In other words, that play
must escape my control. Hence is it so that the loving abandon to an
Other does not rest simply on the possible response the belovedmay
make to it. In this sense, love is also a relation in which I always
relate myself to the possibility that the Other will not love me in
return. “In love . . . unless one does not love with love, one must
resign oneself to not being loved” (AE 153/OB 121).
This mutual dependence and the
auto-affective component inseparably bound up with it are meaningful only when reciprocity as such
is not directly aimed at andis not bent into a reflexive intentionality.
This mutual dependence must go together with an egoistic drive by
which one’s abandon to the Other no longer depends on the beloveds possibleresponse.Eroticpleasure
is destroyedwhenone
tries to stay in control and remain at the point where pleasurable
effects can be brought about in the Other. At such a moment, the
reciprocity is in fact interrupted, and one has already taken the position of an outsider who surveys the play in which one is involved.
This problematic is central not only for clinical psychology as it
studies love relations which have already become ill, but also in the
Sartrean analysis of masochism and sadism. While it seems to me
that Levinas’s phenomenology of eros can be read as a thinly disguised critique of Sartre, this does not mean that it renders the Sartreandescriptionsuperfluous.
To thecontrary.Just
as Freud
describes the countless destinies of wanting to be loved (narcissism),
so Sartre describes the destinies of love-relations in which thecircuit
of reciprocal physical incarnation and dependence (“la double incarnation re‘ciproque”) is interrupted to the extreme and the play with
the Other is reduced to a play of imaginaly fascination. In contrast
with what Levinas describes as erotic desire, masochism and sadism
are essentially and exceptionally puritanical (incorporeal) affairs.
Paul Moyaert
39
In masochism, I want to see to an extreme degree how the disincarnate gaze of the Other is fascinated by my object-ness for him or
her. The masochist yields before a desire to touch the Other, so that
both the Other and the masochist are drawn into the play of impersonal drives in which there is no longer a person present to him- or
herself left standing. The masochist is afraid of disappearing as a person, and even wishes to fall under the impulsion of his or her own
objectionable, abject, and infantile object-ness, and identifies with
the Other who despises and mistreats the masochist for his or her
fear and ridiculous behavior. But this. Othe_rn_u_$.npt become flesh
and blood through this identification. The Other must remain.in the
position of a disincarnate gaze. He or she must remainat a distance,
and is not to be comprehendedin or through his or her own corporeality. For precisely this reason, anyone can in principle occupy the
imaginary position of that disincarnate gaze. The Other thus takes
only the position of, as it were, outsider. In contrast to the description
of Levinas, masochism thus displays once again a central reference
to a third (the outsider), withwhom the masochist identifies.
In sadism, to the contrary, one wishes not to be swallowed up and
drawn intoone’s own corporeality. The sadist wishes to be absolutely
present to his or her own unassailable mastery; the sadist wishes, in
other words, to fall under the impulsion of his or her own mastery,
which is r e f i r m e d throughsubjectivereactions
of pain,horror,
panic, and anxiety in the Other. Thesadist identifies with the,victim:
the victim’s desperate cries are impressive evidence of the sadist’s
own absolute power. The sadist thus reduces the Other to a pure
object; or better, compels the other person to an extreme confrontation with his or her object-ness. The sadist cannotbear for the Other,
as person, to disappear in his or her corporeality. In contrast with
Levinas’s account of erotic desire, in which the Other, as person,
disappears into the impersonal outside
of his or her physical existence, Sartre’s sadist exercises an extreme compulsion on the Other,
as person, to continue to react-including, and aboveall, at the point
where he or she almost ceases to be a person.
The difference between the phenomenology of eros (Levinas) and
the analysis of perversion (Sartre) can also be summarizedas follows:
First, as opposed to what is sometimes asserted in some handbooks
of psychiatry, neither the individual ego (masochism) nor the Other
40
OTHERS
WITHRELATIONS
(sadism) is ever reduced to a purely mmipulable and impersonal object. Such perversions are not possible without a basic recognitionof
the Other as a person. Perversion is a typically human phenomenon.
Animals are neither sadistic normasochistic. In perversion, one aims
above all and to an extreme degree at the subjective reactions
of the
the Other to disapOther as a person. In sadism, one does not permit
pear into the impersonal exterior of his or her existence: the victim
must realize what it means for the inaccessible Other to be reduced
to an object. Sadism breaks down as soon as the Other succumbs to
torture and no longer reactsas a person. The masochist wants to see
what it means to no longer mean anythingthe
to Other: themasochist
is fascinated by his or her object-nessfor the Other. Perversions are
thus characterized by an endless (imaginary) dissociation between
the Other’s consciousness (the gaze) and his or her corporeality. In
Levinas’s phenomenology of eros, it is no longer the distant, lucid,
and neutral gaze which is central, but the gaze which clouds and
breaks down under thecaress.
The lack of respect for the Other consists here in a extreme demand and compulsion exercised on him or her to continue to react
as a person. From the perspective of this problematic, it is understandable how the description of eros in Totality and Injnity is important for the analysis of the ethical relation. For the sensibility of
the face is seen there to consist in the fact that one CUR be touched
by the Other even at the
point where he or sheis almost no longer a
person-the face that manifests itself in the proximity of an irrecusable decline, this face becomes truly intrusive and obsessive only at
the vely brinkof the impersonal il y a-as if the possible disappearance of all recognizable and comparable properties confronts one
with the irreplaceable singularityof the Other. Ethics finds its foundation in this limit-experience.
Second, ambiguity comprises the very essence of the erotic. The
erotic consists of the ambiguous play of loving and being loved, immanence and transcendence, and so forth. Perversion is the consequence of an urge to free oneself of this ambiguity. This isolates the
existential paradox of perversion: the attemptto break outof the play
of mutual dependence leads directly into perversion. It is from this
perspective that Sartre must be read. Sartre never alleged that sadism and masochism are the ultimate truth of human love-relations.
Paul Moynert
41
He only shows what the truth of love-relations is where the circuitof
mutual dependence andphysical incarnation is radically interrupted.
IV. EROTIC DESIRE AND PASSION
In contrast with erotic love, passion does not in principle aim at a
possible reciprocity withthe beloved; in passion, one is consumed to
an extreme degree by a desire for the inaccessible Other. Passion is
an extreme form of love. Like love, passion does not involve attraction to a concrete, physical Other. In a passionate love-relation, one
is drawn to an absolute that is not of this world, or to an Other who
is so absolute that he or she remains inevitably untouchable and out
of reach. Such a relation stands from the very beginning exclusively
under the sign of an impossible love and a love that a priori excludes
all possible reciprocity. As such, passion is not so much borne by a
physical consumption as it bursts out in a sometimes almost unbearable self-colzsul72ing~an~:
a desire which is never interruptedby the
possibility of physical liberation, but only consumed by that desire
itself: Passionate love is thus characterized by a paradoxical existential logic. On the one hand, one does everything possible to abolish
the distance separating one from an unreachable Other. One leaves
everything behind. Ultimately, it is nothing other than the self-enclosedness of existence and life itself that makes an ultimate union
impossible. But on the other hand, the passionate lover
also seeks the
very separation that causes him or her to suffer, as if seeking at one
and the same time both the separation itself and the possibility of
overcoming it. On the one hand the lover says that he or she will
never love anyone else, whileon the other hand
finding it unbearable
for this Other to answer to his or her desire: “ni
sans toi, ni avec
tot’-neither
without you nor with you. In passion, desire is described only in terms of “dying of not dying,” thatis to say, an almost
dying from not being able to die of desire. As such, passion is the
extreme example of a desire without future, without fecundity.
NOTES
1. J. Lacan, The Four Fundamental Concepts of Psycho-Analysis (Seminar
XI), ed. J.-A. Miller, trans. A. Sheridan (New York: Penguin, 1977),86.
42
RELATIONS
OTHERS WITH
2. Levinas refers explicitly to the myth of Aristophanes, told in Plato’s
Symposium 189c-193d.
3. In thisconnection,seealso
R. Scruton, Sexzuzl Desire (London:
Weidenfeld and Nicolson, 1986).
4. P. Moyaert, Detnateloosheid van hetchristetutom (Nijmegen: SUN,
1998), Part3, “De christelijke Liefdesnlystiek:De omvorming van een passioneel liefdesverlangen ineen liefde zonder begeerte.”