SEMI­OTIC ÉPHÉMÈRA AND DIG­I­TAL DIS­COURSE: A DER­RIDEAN EXPLO­RATION OF SEN­SO­R­I­AL SUB­VER­SION AND EXIS­TEN­TIAL UNSET­TLED­NESS IN AN DROCHAID

IN THE INTRI­CATE DIS­COURSE of An Drochaid, a ven­er­a­ble Bre­ton tav­ern enmeshed in the echoes of tem­po­ral­i­ty with­in Hillion, Brit­tany, Manon Ghaz­alique embarks on a sub­ver­sive odyssey, engag­ing in a sen­so­r­i­al decon­struc­tion, seek­ing to rup­ture the con­ven­tion­al con­fines of sen­so­r­i­al stim­uli and expe­ri­ence through the act of tast­ing a glass of Château du Coeur. The aged lanterns, weath­ered wit­ness­es to the pas­sage of time, emit an amber glow, beck­on­ing shad­ows to dance errat­i­cal­ly across Manon’s osten­si­bly focused visage—an elu­sive spec­ta­cle that both con­ceals and discloses.

Con­cur­rent­ly, across the spa­tial expanse of the town, with­in the serene con­fines of Hugo Fau­con­nier’s den, famil­ial bonds are invoked as a shield against the relent­less flow of time and the sys­temic vio­lence embed­ded with­in it. The shared din­ner with Sylvie and enfants assumes the char­ac­ter of a rit­u­al­ized conclusion—a tableau of domes­tic bliss poised against the exis­ten­tial soli­tude of the tav­ern. How­ev­er, this famil­ial tran­quil­i­ty, rather than serv­ing as a sanc­tu­ary, can be per­ceived as a per­for­ma­tive construct—an endeav­or to anchor one­self amidst the exis­ten­tial void.

Manon, the dig­i­tal chron­i­cler, nav­i­gates a land­scape of con­tacts sent by Hugo, her nim­ble fin­gers leav­ing traces in a stone paper notebook—an act of inscrip­tion mir­ror­ing the fragili­ty of mem­o­ry and the ephemer­al nature of dig­i­tal com­mu­ni­ca­tion, invert­ed into the illu­sion of note­book inscrip­tions. In the dim­ly lit embrace of Hugo’s den, shad­ows meta­mor­phose into silent shapes that defy exis­tence in the sun­light, engaged in an elu­sive dance upon the walls. The dia­logue between Manon and Hugo, ren­dered through sym­bols and dig­its, evolves into a play of signifiers—an inter­play of absence and presence.

Stone paper may sig­ni­fy a mate­ri­al­i­ty that is resis­tant to con­ven­tion­al modes of inscription—stone being a durable, endur­ing sub­stance. In this con­text, it could be a sym­bol of mem­o­ry or per­ma­nence, con­trast­ing with the ephemer­al nature of dig­i­tal com­mu­ni­ca­tion. Der­ri­da often explores the ten­sion between pres­ence and absence, and the choice of stone paper sug­gests a desire for a more tan­gi­ble, last­ing form of inscrip­tion in the face of the fleet­ing dig­i­tal landscape.

The act of Manon’s fin­gers leav­ing traces on this stone paper becomes an inscrip­tion, mir­ror­ing the fragili­ty of mem­o­ry. Fragili­ty here could imply the vul­ner­a­bil­i­ty of mem­o­ry to era­sure or for­get­ting, empha­siz­ing the ephemer­al nature of both dig­i­tal and tra­di­tion­al forms of recording.

The dim­ly lit embrace of Hugo’s den, where shad­ows meta­mor­phose into silent shapes engaged in an elu­sive dance, may rep­re­sent the shift­ing nature of mean­ing and inter­pre­ta­tion. Shad­ows, tra­di­tion­al­ly asso­ci­at­ed with the absence of light, become dynam­ic enti­ties, chal­leng­ing their very exis­tence in sun­light. This could par­al­lel the way mean­ings are con­struct­ed and decon­struct­ed in the play of sig­ni­fiers, where the absence of a fixed mean­ing allows for mul­ti­ple interpretations.

The dia­logue between Manon and Hugo, ren­dered through sym­bols and dig­its, evolves into a play of signifiers—an inter­play of absence and pres­ence. Here, the dig­i­tal dia­logue becomes a space where mean­ings are not fixed but are sub­ject to inter­pre­ta­tion. The absence of phys­i­cal pres­ence in the exchange is com­pen­sat­ed by the pres­ence of sym­bol­ic representations—digits and symbols—which become the vehi­cles for communication.

In sum­ma­ry, the use of stone paper in a Der­ridean frame­work can be under­stood as a metaphor for the desire for per­ma­nence and tan­gi­bil­i­ty in the act of inscrip­tion, con­trast­ing with the ephemer­al and elu­sive nature of dig­i­tal com­mu­ni­ca­tion. It accen­tu­ates the ten­sion between pres­ence and absence, the endur­ing and the fleet­ing, inher­ent in the inter­play of tra­di­tion­al and dig­i­tal modes of recording.

The exchanges between Manon and Hugo, encap­su­lat­ed with­in the con­fines of their dig­i­tal dia­logue, evoke a sense of exis­ten­tial displacement—a detach­ment from the tan­gi­ble and a reliance on the sym­bol­ic. The brevi­ty of their com­mu­ni­ca­tion, con­fined with­in the lim­i­ta­tions of the dig­i­tal medi­um, mir­rors the frag­men­tary nature of lan­guage, leav­ing much unsaid, unspo­ken, and deferred.

The locales of Plage de l’Ami­tié and the Echo­ing Cliffs, depict­ed as can­vas­es for nar­ra­tive expres­sion, become are­nas of contestation—a con­flict between the vis­i­ble and the invis­i­ble, the seen and the unseen. The pro­jec­tion of sun­rise as “magical—serene waves” at Plage de l’Ami­tié and the envi­sion­ing of Jacques HER­BEV­ERT express­ing thoughts amidst nature’s grandeur at the Echo­ing Cliffs are per­for­ma­tive ges­tures, where nature assumes the role of a stage for human narratives.

The intru­sion of a wait­ress with a Gal­lette com­plète marks a moment of disruption—an intru­sion of the liv­ing into the dig­i­tal, the tan­gi­ble into the sym­bol­ic. The culi­nary offer­ing, osten­si­bly mun­dane, becomes a rup­ture in the seam­less flow of the dig­i­tal discourse—an asser­tion of the mate­r­i­al and the bio­log­i­cal with­in the realm of the virtual.

The dis­cus­sion on sup­ple­men­tary equip­ment, its scarci­ty, and reliance on poten­tial rein­force­ments from a pho­tog­ra­phy stu­dio intro­duce an ele­ment of contingency—a fragili­ty in the mate­r­i­al con­di­tions required for the real­iza­tion of their shared vision. The inad­e­qua­cy of resources becomes a metaphor for the inher­ent lim­i­ta­tions with­in the dig­i­tal landscape.

The dia­logue shifts to the intri­cate dance of pol­i­tics and eco­nom­ic inter­ests, ten­sions woven into the fab­ric of the film. The pro­pos­al to strate­gi­cal­ly attend press con­fer­ences and incor­po­rate protest footage sug­gests a desire to expose the hid­den lay­ers of pow­er. How­ev­er, the choice of strate­gies reveals an inher­ent reliance on exist­ing struc­tures and narratives—a para­dox­i­cal attempt to sub­vert the sys­tem from within.

The crescen­do, the unveil­ing of truth, becomes a shared mission—for Hillion and the envi­ron­ment. Yet, this mis­sion is under­tak­en with­in the con­straints of the dig­i­tal medi­um, where truth itself becomes a shift­ing, elu­sive sig­ni­fi­er. The dark­ness that envelops as the night pro­gress­es mir­rors the obscu­ri­ty inher­ent in the pur­suit of truth—a dark­ness that is simul­ta­ne­ous­ly a can­vas for rev­e­la­tion and concealment.

Hugo FAL­CON­NIER’s retreat into famil­ial warmth and Manon GHAZ­ALIQUE’s soli­tary walk back to her AirBnB under the brisk fir­ma­ment mark the cul­mi­na­tion of the dig­i­tal and phys­i­cal jour­ney. The heart­beat of the doc­u­men­tary echo­ing in Hugo’s dream­scape and Manon retrac­ing her steps alone become metaphors for the exis­ten­tial soli­tude inher­ent in the pur­suit of truth with­in the dig­i­tal landscape—a land­scape where the vir­tu­al and the mate­r­i­al are inter­twined, yet for­ev­er apart.