Scholars from different disciplines are seeking to construct the new field of post-communism, which has been created by the implosion of the communist regime. They explore the most important dimensions of the differences between various types of space and geographical territories: the spaces of identity and the social, political and geopolitical spaces in certain countries of Central Europe (Poland, Hungary, the Czech Republic, Slovakia), the Balkans (Albania, Bosnia, Bulgaria, Macedonia, Romania, Serbia) and the Russian world and its Eurasian borders (Russia, Mongolia, Buriatia, Kazakhstan, Moldavia and the Baltic states) not to mention the borders of the Middle or Far Eastern communist world (descriptions of China and the Middle East).

Today, with the digitisation of texts, sounds and images and their circulation on the Internet, we are deploying new techniques for storing knowledge which will increasingly supplement and even replace older memory recording systems, such as books, vinyl discs, and photographs on celluloid. It looks as if the extent of these changes will be far reaching. And if, as many believe, the practical methods of inscribing thought have an impact on the way it is developed through the writing and reading process, we can understand why the changes now taking place could profoundly affect our ways of thinking. Here we have gathered together specialists in ancient means of recording memory - clay tablets, papyrus rolls and manuscripts - along with experts from the electronic age - originators of man-machine interfaces, enterprise knowledge management systems, hypermedia and intelligent agents - with the purpose of elucidating the present by reference to intellectual technologies of the past.

Is it only yesterday's humanism, whether religious or secular in origin, that is dying - and is it really dying? - or is it more profoundly the very paradigm of humanity? At least it is worth asking the question. Do we not hear on every side today that everything is ‘constructed’ and ‘formated’? No inherited moral standard now seems acceptable, nor any reference to any sort of human nature or naturality. The only idea that henceforth finds acceptance is that of the infinite plasticity of the human, leaving individuals free to shape themselves as they wish beyond any commonly received standard, since only defiance of the norm seems to be the source and proof of freedom.

I hope I will not be accused of mental colonialism by attributing to Europe the role which belongs to it historically: that of the Self, which leaves the position of the Other for us. Consequently, this text ought to begin with the view taken of the Other (the European view of the Brazilians) and continue with the view held by the Other (the Brazilian view of the Europeans).

Hypertext encompasses a particular aspect of the virtual book that is playing an increasingly important part with the expansion of the Internet and the web. The success of HTML (HyperText Markup Language) - attests to its dynamism. Nowadays it seems so natural and so usual that we manipulate it with ease and we discover its ancestors among medieval cabalists or among other commentators of sacred texts. Every indexation, every note and every comment suggests a potential rudimentary hypertext. However, before its expansion over the entire planet, with the network of worldwide telecommunication, before being programmed on to every PC, hypertext took form in the minds of a few learned visionaries. We will refer to two of them.

Imperialism and its aftermath set off an extraordinary wave of travel, exploration, and migrations around the globe, in which writers, or potential writers, were inevitably caught up. One consequence was that many novels of the last one hundred and fifty years, especially British novels, have had exotic settings.

David Lodge, “The Exotic”, The Art of Fiction, pp. 158-9.

In this article I propose to explore the meanings, mechanisms and issues at stake in the reconstitution of identities which can now be seen taking place in the countries of the post-communist space. We shall consider this space not as a thing in itself, but in terms of its old and new interactions with the countries of western Europe, in order to understand the phenomena of reconstructed identities in general, in the context of their relationship to the period of globalisation in which we now find ourselves.

Throughout the world, in preparations for the fifth centenary of the discovery of (or lucky find of, or cultural encounter with) the continent of America and the many events planned to mark the date, the European view prevailed. Of course this provoked an outcry from a great many indigenous groups and protesters in both the Americas and Europe. These people maintained that there was no reason to celebrate, given that the Europeans’ relationship with the Americas can be seen as one of the greatest historical injustices since history began.

All of us share the same feeling of being torn between two equally impossible attitudes, namely the absurdity of resistance and the abjectness of renunciation, that is to say a feeling of surrender to the course of events and I think that it is true that we are all more or less filled with this feeling or to revert to other terminology which I will borrow from Jacques Ellul, we all have the feeling of being swept away in a haphazard process over which we no longer have any hold. In this respect, I tend to agree with Alain Caillé, that we are at the moment experiencing a shift, a transformation, a revolution - use whichever term you prefer - such as has only happened two or three times in western history and it is true that this great shift is probably comparable, to the Renaissance, say, or the fall of the Roman Empire or possibly the Enlightenment or even the Industrial Revolution in its extent, radicality and also what is enigmatic about it that for those who are experiencing it. There is a radicality in what we are experiencing which is the source of that feeling which sometimes assails us that all resistance would not only be useless but ridiculous. I intend to deconstruct, if I may so express it, this feeling of ridicule which is paralysing us and which indeed paralyses us all the more because it is exploited day after day by talk of flux in which all desires and all ethical or political voluntarism is in general described as some kind of residual archaism.

For many peoples the fall of the Soviet regime saw the disappearance of a structure that had ensured their membership of entities with which they had in fact been only partially able to identify. This is true of the Buryats and Russians living in Buryatia, a former autonomous republic on the shores of Lake Baikal in southern central Siberia.

Since the theme of this issue is ‘back to the future,’ especially to the ways in which information formats before the age of printing anticipate and perhaps even may give some guidance to principles of organization and cognitive layouts for the ‘new’ science of information design, I am going to focus in my presentation on the design of memory storage, as it was taught and practiced in the Middle Ages. It is important to recognize that ‘memory-art’ accompanied every aspect of education in the ancient trivium, though different aspects and capacities of human memory were emphasized as appropriate to its various disciplines. What is commonly now taken to be ‘the art of memory,’ namely the advice to link powerful images of ‘content’ (imagines rerum) together in dramatic scenes conceived within a mental location (locus) (as described most completely in the early first century B.C. Rhetorica ad Herennium) is not a universal technique but specifically a device of Rhetoric, and thus of composition. There is also an ‘art of memory’ associated with Dialectic, and this is the device of the ‘topics’ or ‘seats’ (topoi) of argument, syllogism and enthymeme arranged in an orderly schematic of specific mental ‘places.’ Aristotle expounded this scheme as a variety of mnemonic art in his treatise Peri Topoi, and in turn it was further disseminated to later antiquity and the Middle Ages in works by Cicero and Boethius.

The links which connect the nature of the medium to the methods of access and to the objects of knowledge, relationships between form and content, are a broad continuum whose interlinked facts require a transdisciplinary study.

Nowadays, attempts to discern these links seem to concern two central groups of correlations, which have been analysed from the perspective of different disciplines.

In the foreground of correlations we find the relationship between the material characteristics of the mediums and the methods of access to their contents; in this field of cultural technologies, the history of verbal language is punctuated first by the ‘invention’ of writing and its different systems, then by a series of transformations of manuscripts and the printed word, and finally by electronic communication. In the study of this first relationship, the history, psychology and physiology of reading establish a relationship between several parameters: on the one hand, the system of signs and spaces in the organization of the written code, and on the other hand, the methods of appropriation of this code by the reader (both reading aloud and silent reading), linear progression or freedom of selection of the contents, degree of speed, amount of information” habits of memorization, etc.

Whether it is a question of apprehension, grasp, or simple contact, the vocabulary of perception clearly points towards the materiality of touch through what we usually think of as just a metaphorical variation. This is what ancient Greek thought recognized, or dimly felt, as a sometimes hidden constant in its history and its project: sensation, which describes the primary access to being, is first of all and above all a way of touching. Far from indicating a simple perceptual realism, this acknowledgement implies a specific idea about the presence of things in the world: touch assumes a surface, and every being, in order to appear and be seen, must therefore be entirely surface, be articulated within a boundary that describes it perfectly.

What is humanity? I do not claim to answer this question; more simply, I will seek to bring to light the now-problematic character of the very concept of humanity. I will start from a basic established fact: today we cannot conceive the notion of humanity without starting from a dual tension, between a distant past and a future which is either more or less near or very remote. In whatever direction one turns, the concept of humanity is confused. It is still more confused if we seek to embrace past and future together.

The rich text by Roberte Hamayon can be viewed from several angles. I will limit myself to one by noting that this particular case offers a very interesting illustration of the treatment of ethnic questions in Russia following the collapse of the USSR.

This paper analyses certain contemporary narratives among Buryats of Russia and China. At issue is the nature of responsibility for the campaigns of terror, in particular the devastation of the Buddhist church in the 1930s. In these accounts political leaders appear as reincarnations, destined to unleash terrible events. Stalin, for example, is said by Buryat Mongol villagers to have been the reincarnation of a Blue Elephant which lived in ancient times in India. I examine local discussions around these stories to suggest that the narrators, themselves having been caught up in the seemingly objective and transparent, yet deeply irrational, accounts of the Party-State, do not (at any rate at present) confront actions in which they were both perpetrators and victims ‘matter-of-factly’. Having been a particular target of the Stalinist all-pervasive organisation of suspicion and punishment, Buryat Buddhists today are creating ‘paranoid narratives’ of their own to explain the repressions - a narrative of displacement, in which the actions attributed to an other (in this case Stalin) are in some way ‘about’ oneself. The reincarnation stories point up the crucial moral issue erased by socialist metahistory, the ethical problem of individual accountability. They are about complicity, for they reveal an uneasy, and probably unconscious, identification with Stalin.

This article is intended to be both an analysis, and also an account: that of a generation of young citizens, to which I belong, which is both enthusiastic about and worried by recent advances in genetics. In the modern world mind set evolves very rapidly. In the late 1960s women demanded ‘a baby when I want!’ The right to contraception followed. Then, in the early 1970s, another slogan was heard: ‘a baby if I want.’ Shortly afterwards, a woman's right to abortion was recognized. Now, new demands are increasingly being synthesized as: ‘a baby of the kind I want.’ The spectre of eugenics is slowly and insidiously being reborn at the heart of democracy.

Maps and libraries are ways of externalising memory and knowledge, making them not only concrete, visible and accessible, but also durable, reproducible, communicable and socially active. Both are linked to processes of totalisation. Maps add together and incorporate individual, particular and partial experiences of a space: they provide a summary and synthesis of points of view concerning a given territory, obscuring their empirical content in order to construct a coherent degree of visibility and intelligibility. Libraries represent the sum of the reading and knowledge of the individual readers who frequent them. A library is one of the places that embody the intellectual, literary and spiritual heritage of a community; it is here that written memory, with its importance as a foundation for identity, can be seen in complete and tangible form.

What are the preferred subjects of mass photography? We will not go far wrong if we hazard this reply: the Self and the Other. The popular practice of photography does not much go in for nuance: it has taken as its watchword the distinction between gens de Soi and gens de l'Autre which Robert Jaulin once used as the title of one of his books on ethnology. The self, that is, one's own, those close to one, familial space and the familiar space of identity and recognition. The other, in other words, strangers, the space of distant parts, and the space of displacement where tourism increasingly frequently leads the inhabitants of richer countries. Here, in the first space, one is among one's own kind, “among ourselves”, part of the same family through kinship or part of the same community through lifestyle and nationality; here, connivance rules, the unspoken word and the wink with the photographer who is “one of us”, and so one does not generally hesitate to expose oneself, that is, open up to their lens. There, in the second space, one is in a foreign country, amongst others, whose costumes and customs are photographed; there, the more polite rule of the smile and the presentation of the self for others holds sway, one is more engaged in the process of representation and adopts a pose for the photographer rather than exposing oneself to their lens. The most widely disseminated version of this dual polarity of popular photography is the souvenir photos of the family album, on the one hand, and the holiday photos brought back by tourists from their various excursions abroad, on the other; a version which illustrates one of the most spontaneously practised photographic montages, consisting of having oneself photographed in a distant country against a typical scenic background or emblematic monument of the country visited.