This volume combines the lectures that Pierre Bourdieu gave on Manet at the Collège de France in 1999 and 2000, with an unfinished book on the same artist written in collaboration with his wife Marie-Claire Bourdieu, who, after contributing to the research for the book, ended up helping to shape its very conception. Both the title of the book and the titles of the two years of lectures were chosen by the editors. The guidelines used to establish the texts follow the editorial policy adopted for the publication of Sur l’État in 2012.¹

Our transcription of Bourdieu’s lectures at the Collège de France respects the approach taken by Bourdieu when he himself revised his lectures and seminars: polishing the style, ironing out the rough edges of oral discourse (repetitions, slips of the tongue, etc.) and suppressing some developments that are off the topic or too impromptu. Beyond these general principles, other changes were necessary because of the unfinished nature of the argument, as Bourdieu himself recognized. More precisely, one of the interesting aspects of this publication is that it is a work in progress, which reveals a process of thinking. This explains why there are some changes in the content of a planned exposé, hesitations, interrupted arguments, partly improvised or merely sketched topoi, and occasional repetitions or reminders designed to capture the attention of the audience: although these things were not a problem when the lectures were delivered, they would have rendered the reading of an overliteral transcription difficult. Even though there was never any question of ‘rewriting’ the lectures in the way that Bourdieu himself would have done, some structural reshaping was nonetheless necessary, since he did not write out his lectures, but used his notes to speak his thoughts out loud and felt free to follow up ideas that occurred to him during the course of his exposé. Where these developments address the topic at issue, they are placed between dashes; where they indicate a break in the argument, they are noted in brackets; and where they are too long, they may become the subject of a separate section. The editors are responsible for the division of the text into sections and paragraphs, as well as for its subtitles and punctuation, and for the footnotes that provide references to the works mentioned and explain some of the allusions. So as not to overburden the critical apparatus, the choice was made to restrict all non-bibliographical notes to the information necessary for the elucidation of an allusive passage, or to the contextualization of items too summarily mentioned. However, when Bourdieu mentions the artists and critics who were Manet’s contemporaries, particularly those less well known, he usually provides their biographical details during the lectures as and when the argument requires it.

In the manuscript of the book, the bibliographical references indicated by the authors have been complemented when they were not sufficiently informative. Similarly, in the lectures, some notes have been added to facilitate the understanding of the text: explanations, cross-references, complementary details. As we have said, this book remained unfinished: the fully developed passages of the manuscript are interrupted by other passages of varying length, either in the form of rough drafts, indicated by italics, or sometimes by notes left in their raw state, which we have decided to publish despite their fragmentary nature. This is because they give an idea of how Bourdieu worked and provide insights into his writing process. Although the juxtaposition of the lectures and the manuscript does sometimes give rise to a number of repetitions, we chose not to use this criterion to make cuts, considering that the value of the complementary information they provide outweighs the disadvantages of repetition. On the other hand, we made other cuts, for reasons that will be clarified as and when they occur.

A text by Christophe Charle, ‘Opus Infinitum’, highlights the links between the lectures and the manuscript, situates these studies of Manet in the sociologist’s work and reconstructs their genesis. Drawing up a report on the research undertaken since, he gives an idea of potential developments and revisions of the perspectives opened by Bourdieu. And finally, a brief postface by Pascale Casanova, ‘Self-Portrait as a Free Artist’, closes this collection. She evokes the parallels between the painter and the sociologist, which comprise one of the driving forces of Bourdieu’s analysis of Manet. She also reminds us of the high cost of being a ‘symbolic revolutionary’, and of how improbable it was for someone to do that ‘very strange thing’, as Bourdieu said, i.e., turning their mastery of a system against the system itself in order to subvert it.

The summaries of the lectures at the Collège de France have been reproduced in an appendix, as have a general index and an index of the paintings cited.

Finally, the works by Manet and other artists which have inspired Bourdieu’s richest and most far-reaching analyses are reproduced in a central insert. The reader is referred to these by figures in square brackets in the text the first time they occur within each chapter.

In the case of Manet, Bourdieu argues that the artist is faced with a series of practical problems as much as any application of theory. Thus with the translator. In practice, each and every translation requires the mobilization of a certain savoir faire, that is, a specific set of technical procedures and skills. However, we have had to consider our approach especially carefully in the case of this posthumous work.

This book is the work of a sociologist who has created his own perspectives, categories and vocabulary, a school in fact, whose very style is part of its vision. The translators must transmit this vision. We have taken great pains to convey the sometimes shifting sense and often complex intellectual context of concepts such as ‘corps’, ‘field’, ‘disposition’ and ‘habitus’ in such a way as to convey their imaginative as well as their analytical force. Another challenge was the multidisciplinary nature of the material that Bourdieu harnesses to develop his ambitious sociological argument, moving seamlessly from discussions of art history, theory and practice, to reflections on literature, literary theory and philosophy. Where possible, we use the published English translations of the texts cited.

Perhaps most awkwardly, the work is unfinished. Bourdieu did not have time to revise the text of his lectures. They have been reconstructed, for the French edition, from recordings taken at the time, and his notes. Anyone who has heard Bourdieu lecture, or lead a seminar, will know that he was an inspired improviser rather than a literal pedagogue. The repetitions, the asides, the offhand references and ironic allusions are part of the performance of a gifted teacher who listens to and interacts with his audience. Here we have sometimes simplified the syntax in order to render more clearly to the reader the sense that might otherwise seem confusing on the silent page. We have however tried to remain faithful to Bourdieu’s usage of metaphors taken from economics, anthropology and religion, and to capture the polemical tone of his skirmishes with other critics and scholars, without losing their peculiarly French historical context. The unfinished manuscript is even more difficult of access. There are fragmentary phrases, which can be rather enigmatic. There are algebraic notations, which are there to remind Bourdieu to take a certain direction. Certain passages resemble shorthand rather than longhand. We have sometimes taken the decision here to interpret – which is also the task of the translator – rather than leave the reader faced with an enigma compounded.

This posthumous work is in many ways the fruit of a collective effort. The book’s French editors have pieced together a book from a wide range of sometimes fragmentary material that was not yet ready for publication. However, they scrupulously tried to note their every intervention, adding missing words and phrases between brackets and correcting small errors. We have tried to strike a similar balance. However, as translators, this had led us to take somewhat different decisions. We have done away with most of the brackets added by the editors when these impeded the reading of the text, on the grounds that a translation is neither a transcript nor a transliteration. Despite the work of the French editors, a few factual errors and slips of the tongue remain in the French text: we have either corrected them or called attention to them in a footnote. Bourdieu’s own footnotes are often very allusive, and we have followed the lead of the French editors and left them as they are, unless we felt that a clear reference to a quotation was needed.

Ultimately, this is a very personal work. As we weave our way through a labyrinth, sometimes a minefield, of detailed sociological data and controversial critique of art criticism and technical details of painterly practice, we never cease to hear the voice of the auctor, as Bourdieu would have said. It is ultimately this impassioned, inspirational voice that we have tried to convey.