When we consider the origins of modern masochism á la Sacher-Masoch, we find Deleuze’s argument surrounding masochism’s complete separation from sadism to be quite compelling. So-called “sadomasochism” as we call it today rests upon many hasty conclusions. Sadism and masochism are usually linked under the banner of“consensual” sexual violence (but we should seriously challenge the notion of consent, especially in this case). For the case of “sadomasochism”, sadism simply refers to administering violence while masochism refers to receiving this violence.
The question of distinguishing between two kinds of masochism, that of today’s common-sense definition versus the actual masochism of Sacher-Masoch is primarily a question of distinguishing between two different kinds of violence. Violence is implicit in the relations of both the sadist and the masochist. But there is also the violence implicit in any sexual act. Both the sadist and masochist clearly recognize this. Where the two diverge is at the question of the kind of violence they use and to what end they use it. On one hand, the sadist seeks violence as the means to unleash all forms of repression or sublimation so as to bring humanity closer to a state of nature that is in permanent revolution. The masochist, on the other hand, uses violence in a much different manner. It is true that the masochist is the endurer of a kind of violence, but it is one initiated by themself and directed at a specific part of themself. The masochist seeks to direct violence at the part of themself that embodies the Father. They seek to destroy the Oedipus inside of them and form a new alliance with the Mother, a mother which now has the phallus.
We can clearly see that the common-sense masochism of taking pleasure in one’s degradation is much different than enacting the violence upon oneself that is required to liberate the ego from the superego, to create a non-Oedipal ego. Those who endure masochistic violence in Masoch’s novels genuinely suffer greatly, and are rarely teeming with delight at their sufferings. Masoch’s greatness lies in the fact that masochism functions as a precursor to schizoanalysis. They share the same objective of liberating the desires that have been straightjacketed by Oedipus. They are also both well aware that there is a certain amount of violence that is absolutely necessary to achieve this aim. Common-sense masochism on the other hand, is the taking pleasure in this very humiliation, the straightjacketing of desire. This would clearly horrify both Sade and Masoch. The modern understanding of masochism is exactly what the two were desperately trying to avoid. When the libertines in the 120 Days of Sodom occasionally take pleasure in being humiliated themselves (as Pasolini depicts brilliantly at the first dinner scene in Salo ), this is done in Sade’s usual method of pure, critical, relentless negativity. It shows that this form of masochistic pleasure is just as disgusting as the sadistic crimes of the libertines. With Masoch, the way in which the masochistic ritual is set (with the cold woman, the furs, and the contract) deliberately avoids any association with patriarchal violence. The ritual is oriented toward the complete abolition of such patriarchal violence, and it is the contract in particular that guarantees this. The masochist is faced with a decision: completely abolish the Father or die. Common-sense masochism is perfectly illustrated by Koike in Love Exposure: the repetition of “give it to me” that was initiated by the father whipping the child. It is the victim of sadism that learns to take pleasure in the very tortures that Sade uses to critique the wrong society. Therefore there is something more sadistic than masochistic in today’s common-sense masochism. What unites sadism and masochism under the banner of sadomasochism is the reification of authoritarian attitudes and actions. It is the unflinching willingness to perpetuate and endure violence.
When we speak of the affinity between schizoanalysis and masochism, it is because masochism cannot tolerate common-sense masochism. When desires are liberated from Oedipus, the violence of the state, the workplace, and the family can no longer produce any pleasure. We become disgusted, not out of a new moral standard that creates prohibitions on represented objects, but disgusted with the sheer violence itself, disgusted with how this violence treats desire. This is the link between desiring-production and social-production that makes schizoanalysis a specifically revolutionary kind of praxis. To be clear, we do not argue for a simple mimicry of the relations of Sacher-Masoch’s characters. The schizoanalyst is not the fur-clad woman with a whip. Instead, the schizoanalyst does not rule out a certain degree of violence to be done to the unconscious, and they do not rule out the possibility for numerous lines of flight that may emerge Sacher-Masoch’s literary machine. Sacher-Masoch came up with the strange and brilliant idea of creating new kinds of deterritorializations. He clearly saw these were not foolproof (like Severin’s reterritorialization into sadistic attitudes), but they also opened up new lines of flight away from the numerous traps of Oedipus. We should continue to take these seriously — perhaps today is the most important time to return to Sacher-Masoch as common-sense masochism portrays a genuine and terrifying submissive attitude.
Lastly, with regards to the relationship between sadism and masochism, they may actually be closely related, but not in the way that psychoanalysis posits and that Deleuze critiques it for. The serious divisions between the two that Deleuze outlines in the conclusion of Masochism are correct, but their single greatest commonality lies in their disgust with the treatment of desire in the 18th and 19th centuries. They both identify a profound crisis in sexuality, and therefore in subjectivity. Their vision of praxis differs slightly, and their systems and methods vary greatly. There is much to critique in each. For example, Sade’s critique often becomes imperceptible (as is often the case for Masoch too). Sade’s universal chaos often loses any kind of social or historical grounding that would be necessary to formalize his vision of praxis, and Masoch often relies too heavily on the legal form of the contract and a mythic vision of femininity that preserves a particularly narrow scope of possible social relations. So our current challenge is to revive Sade and Masoch into a single entity, a revolutionary machine, with critique as our tool.