her freedom, is the injustice experienced by others” 20, Marguerite Duras once said about Delphine Seyrig.

Valerie Solanas’s text has been published in France twice: in 1987 by l’Unique et son ombre, then in 1998 by Éditions des Mille et Une Nuits — the only edition that is currently available. But, as a sign of the times, Christiane Rochefort’s presentation, “Définition de l’opprimé” (“Definition of the oppressed”), which offered a feminist reading of the text, was replaced by a provoking, outrageous, and offensive afterword by Michel Houellebecq, “L’Humanité, stade sec-ond” (“The Second stage of Humanity”), which begins unambiguously: “I have always considered feminists as likable fools, unthreatening in principle, but unfortunately made dangerous by their disarming lack of lucidity.” 21 If the writer does recognise some interest to the text, it is with regards to the “the depth of its biological intuitions” 22 — the evidence of a dishonest misinterpretation of the position-ing of the author, whom he describes as “an incomplete, tortured, contradictory, fascinating, and annoying being, like prophets al-ways have been” 23 (shifting insidiously from the discourse to the person), whom he even accuses of “several Nazi excesses” 24. The publication ends with Michel Houellebecq’s 11-page hateful dis-course, marked by a disgraceful, political and ideological confu-sion. This nefarious editorial choice functions as a sexist straight-jacket: he ultimately undermines Valerie Solanas’s manifesto; he denies its literary value, ignores its political relevance and clouds its understanding — the very antithesis of the video performance