Derrida is the opposite of the hunter. The hunter hopes that the animal will stop so he can shoot it. He hopes that he can put an end to the vanishing of the animal. Derrida, hopes that the vanishing will not cease to vanish, that the 'thing' (the vanishing point) will be shown in its evidence without any interruption of its vanishing, in its incessant disappearing. The textual stake of Derrida's desire is that all appearance is sustained by a (dis)appearance, only the vanishing of which can be localised in the forest of sense.
But localising the vanishing point - to say nothing of seizing it, which would be its death -- is, in fact, impossible. This is because the vanishing point is what, within a place (lieu), is outside that place (hors-lieu). It is the outside within. Because the vanishing point exists only in its act beyond the place, it is not possible to localise it exactly. To show the vanishing one has to penetrate deep into the forest that localises it. During the walk, you learn that you cannot show the vanishing; at most you can show, from a fair distance, the localisation of the vanishing, a thicket or clearing. This already is very risky.
Deconstruction, in reality, consists in restraining the discursive operations in such a way that the space of the vanishing is localisable as on a map, by saying: 'The treasure is there or, the source is there. What is going away is there but tread softly, very softly ... If not, the treasure will be purloined, the source will no longer flow. I have a map, but it is vague, vague enough to avoid stepping on the treasure ... One step on the treasure and it is no longer worth anything. Even chance is risky ... tread softly.’
Badiou - “Homage to Jacques Derrida” in Adieu Derrida ed. Costas Douzinas
This is probably the best description of deconstruction I’ve ever seen. It also solidified my commitment to the idea that Derrida is, in a way, still very important to our contemporary moment (though not in the guise of a ‘linguistic turn’ as I argued earlier).
