Giving an Account of Oneself
New York: Fordham University Press, 2005, 149 pages.
Reviewed by Eric C. Mullis

The three essays that make up this book were originally given as the Spinoza Lectures for the Department of Philosophy at the University of Amsterdam in the 2002.  The are entitled "An Account of Oneself," "Against Ethical Violence," and "Responsibility."  In them, Butler weaves together thinkers such as Foucault, Adorno, Laplanche, and Levinas in order to gain insight into the nature of personal narrative.  But even if the reader is unfamiliar with the work that she consults, he will still find the book accessible since the tone is conversational and since the subject matter is personal in nature.

It is widely known that Socrates took the motto "Know Thyself" quite seriously and that he used it to justify his inquiries.  His investigations entailed questioning others and trying to get them to explain why they believed what they believed, whether it concerned the nature of virtue, the nature of specific virtues (such as courage), beauty, or politics.  Following Foucault, Butler wants to emphasize that Socrates implored (if not forced) his coversation partners to give an account of themselves.  Giving an account here, means providing reasons for what one believes and has done.  Of course, commonly, the person being questioned cannot do this and Socrates goes on to show how they might be able to develop such an account.  Butler wants to emphasize that one can never give a complete account of oneself, that is, that one will never be able to provide a satisfactory explanation for who one is or for what one has done.  Why is this?

Socrates ignores the fact that humans are contingent beings, beings whose lives are shaped by forces and conditions that lie outside of their control.  Since we come into the world extremely dependent and malleable, we are easily shaped by social forces that are beyond our control.  We do not choose race, sex, language, or the moment in time that we will be born into since their is no "I" to do the choosing.  Butler continues this line of thought by pointing out that, even in adult life, it is extremely difficult to give an account of oneself.  Drawing on the psychoanalytic tradition, she emphasizes that there will always be an unconscious side to ourselves that continually escapes conscious control.  Against Socrates, the ego will never be able to absorb the unconscious.  Further, the self that I choose to be will be chosen in light of options presented by the culture in which I live.  Even further, the account of myself that I give will be influenced by who is asking me to give it.  In some instances, I will highlight this or that aspect of myself and make significant omissions.  In others, I will emphasize other things and this selection is often made with reference to what we think the other wants to here.  The point in all of this is that, even in our adult lives, we can never give a complete account of ourselves since there will always be elements that lie outside of our awareness.  This raises an important question about responsibility, for if I can never give a completely accurate account of myself, then how can I be held responsible for what I have become?

At this point, Butler discusses a form of responsibility that goes against common intuitions about what it means to be responsible.  Normally, we believe that one is responsible for things that are consciously done and should not be held accountable for things that are beyond one's control.  Butler stresses that responsibility is actually grounded by the limits of self-understanding that make us human.  I cannot give a complete account of her argument (!), but, drawing on Levinas, she makes the point that responsibility is rooted in vulnerability, not the vulnerability of the other, but of the self.  She writes that violence "delineates a physical vulnerability from which we cannot slip away, which we cannot finally resolve in the name of the subject, but which can provide a way to understand that none of us is fully bounded, utterly separate, but, rather, we are in our skins, given over, in each other's hands" (101).  We are not responsible for this situation but "it creates the conditions under which we assume responsibility" (101).

This book raises many pressing questions, but they are questions that any reader needs to consider.  Indeed, since the self is at stake, it is difficult to think of other questions that outweigh these in importance.