Unbound‘s project, however, is not strictly bound by the laws and limits that the designation “reflexive poetics” would appear to institute. For one thing, as “a book of AIDS,” with all the force of the partative, it does not simply thematize; it also refers. Its language lays claim to factual and undeniable referents in countless human bodies (it is of course in and on these bodies that HIV/AIDS first offers itself for reading, and first demands to be read), and to a host of others in the material events that constitute the history of the epidemic-turned-pandemic.
But it is not only the all too obvious referential function of Shurin’s language that opens his “reflexive poetics” onto a historiographical dimension. It is also the rhetorical function of a text that, again in its own terms, is “weighted toward witness” – structured, that is, as testimony addressed out of and as of a certain date. And it derives what authority it may claim from prior testimony: “Authority? – not mine, but an urge toward the integration of fear and immutable fact, and a heart for consequence. Who could have moved me to this end but the men whose names are mentioned here, who were my informants and guides, and whose natural affectional alliances made an epidemic based on love and desire possible? It soon became clear that for me writing about AIDS was weighted toward witness. Such participation’s cursed rare privilege is offered to you” (8). Here as elsewhere, Unbound apostrophizes the reader, willing or unwilling recipient of its uncompromising address (an address on the order of the paradigmatic apostrophe in the chilling final line of Keats’ “This living hand, now warm and capable”: “See, here it is, I hold it towards you”). More fundamentally, the grammar here signals that this testimony is offered, delivered, or at any rate promised to one who remains indeterminate, unnamed in the text: it is perhaps the lover, perhaps the stranger, for with the other, as with AIDS, it comes to the same. [Cf. Jacques Derrida, “Shibboleth” in Midrash and Literature, ed. Hartman and Budick, 344].