lead necessarily to the other of the Greek. Whether he did this on the basis of his background as a Catholic theologian, he knew the Bible, and the entire Protestant and Catholic traditions. Despite everything, when we speak of hearing, did he hear these texts, directly or through Protestant texts, which contain considerable Judaic material? Where did this hearing occur? He made no legible or explicit effort to refer to Judaic texts. This is indisputable. Why? This would be one of the great ideologico-political dossiers.

To come back to my humble case, what I say about the letter or about disas-sociation can refer either to a Judaic tradition or to Levinas. But I would be very careful, since I think the matter is more complicated; paradoxically, I am still less knowledgeable about Judaism than Heidegger was. He encountered it by way of theological texts, but I did not. I have no knowledge of Judaism—unfortunately. Even reading the Bible seriously is something that I only did later. On the other hand, Levinas, for me, is something as complicated as Heidegger. So there we have a knot, a great number of knots. In order to untie them, one would need a lot of time and a lot of care. My relation to the Jewish question is almost as com-plicated as my relation to Heidegger—or as complicated as Heidegger’s relation to the Jewish question! None of this is clear for me.

Can we dwell for a moment on The Post Card?

We can return briefly to the relevance of the postal service and to what I tried to articulate in The Post Card. From the moment when one puts into question this authority of the sending, this prevalence of the destinal sending that governs, in sum, the Heideggerian interpretation of the epochality of being, then one is forced to reattribute to the technical dimension of sending—what I call “postal service” [la poste]—an importance that Heidegger would probably not have given it. He would have found this interest of postal, in the history of postal services, in the history of techniques of transmission, of emitting and receiving, a derivative and limited consequence of metaphysics. Thus he would not have accorded it the importance that I was driven to give it. On the other hand, if one is no longer satisfied with the gathering of the sending and if one speaks of a “destinerrance” of sending, of a sending that also depends on the addressee, that moment, clearly technological, takes on a determining dignity and is no longer just a secondary side effect. And at that moment, all of philosophy, metaphysics, and Greek phi-losophy, all that constitutes the corpus of Heidegger’s questioning, is situated, on the contrary, in a more enveloping history of the postal service, a history of sendings, of techniques of destination. I often have a lot of fun, in The Post Card, in presenting the Master-thinkers as Postmasters: people who control the pass-ing on of messages, who intercept messages, and who, in a Nietzschean gesture, attempt to mark their authority and their power by appropriating the means of