Preface Chapter 1

Notes

Preface

1. For further discussion and bibliography, see my “Nouveau ouancienromanˇ : Open Structures and Balzac’s ‘Gobseck,’” Texas Studies in Literature and Lan- guage 20 (1978): 15–19. 2. A convenient bibliography of these and other such work accompanies Robert Scholes’ Structuralism in Literature: An Introduction (New Haven: Yale UP,1974) 201–17. 3. E.g., B. E. Perry, The Ancient Romances: A Literary-Historical Account of Their Origins (Berkeley: U of California P, 1967) 30–31. 4. E.g., André Malraux, marginal annotation to Gaïton Picon’s Malraux (Paris: Seuil, 1953) 66; Maurice Z. Shroder, “The Novel as a Genre,” Theory the Novel, ed. P. Stevick (New York: Free P, 1967) 14–17. 5. E.g., Juan Ignacio Ferreras, Teoria y praxis de la novela: La ultima aventura de Don Quijote (Paris: Ediciones Hispanoamericanas, 1970) 5, 16. 6. E.g., Arthur Heiserman, The Novel before the Novel: Essays and Discussions about the Beginnings of Prose Fiction in the West (Chicago: U of Chicago P, 1977) 3–4. 7. E.g., Philip Stevick, ed., “Introduction,” Theory of the Novel 4.

Chapter 1

1. David I. Grossvogel, Limits of the Novel: Evolutions of a Form from Chaucer to Robbe-Grillet (Ithaca, NY: Cornell UP, 1968) 278. Indeed, “Formula kills the novel more quickly and more decisively than it kills any other genre, because ...the novel cannot afford in any sense to repeat itself”—John Bayley, “Character and Consciousness,” New Literary History 5 (1974) 232; and Ronald Hayman, “Deprived of Novelty, the Novel Ceases to Be Itself”—The Novel Today: 1967–1975 (London: Longman, 1976) 133. 2. See, Allan H. Pasco, Novel Conﬁgurations: A Study of French Fiction, 2nd ed. (Birmingham: Summa, 1994) 99–122. 3. Cloonan, French Review 81 (2007): 61–77. 4. Cf., Frank Kermode, “Novel and Narrative,” Theory of the Novel: New Essays, ed. John Halperin (New York: Oxford UP, 1974) 156. 166 NOTES TO PAGES 2–5

5. Doody demonstrates convincingly that the novel continues from antiquity, though I wish she had added the aesthetic impulsion, however weak, to her concept of the novel as prose fiction of a certain length—True Story of the Novel (New Brunswick: Rutgers UP, 1996) 16. Terry Eagleton’s definition is the same: “A novel is a piece of prose fiction of a reasonable length”—The English Novel (Oxford: Blackwell, 2005) 1. Likewise, E. M. Forster, Aspects of the Novel, Harvest Books (1927; rpt. New York: Harcourt Brace, 1954) 5–6. There are variants, but most definitions hold close to a combination of character and narrative. 6. Percy Lubbock’s definition is somewhat more interesting. For him, the subject is “the novelist’s intention, in a phrase,” and he wants it to be “expressible in ten words that reveal its unity”—The Craft of Fiction (New York: Viking, 1957) 41–42. 7. Maurice Blanchot, “Autour du roman,” L’Arche 9 (September 1945): 109. For considerations of the recent novel, see, Warren Motte, Fables of the Novel: French Fiction Since 1990 (Chicago: Dalkey Archive Press, 2003), Motte, Fiction Now:TheFrenchNovelintheTwenty-FirstCentury(Chicago: Dalkey Archive Press, 2008), and Alain-Philippe Durand and Naomi Mandel, eds., Novels of the Contemporary Extreme (New York: Continuum, 2006). 8. In an interview with Bettina Knapp, Raymond Queneau said, “We consider the Rhétoriqueurs to be our literary ancestors”—French Novelists Speak Out (Troy, NY: Whitston, 1976) 45. 9. Ricardou is, of course, opposing what he considers an oversimplification— Nouveau roman: Hier, aujourd’hui: Communications et interventions du colloque tenu du 20 au 30 juillet 1971 au Centre culturel international de Cerisy- la-Salle, 2 vols. (Paris: 10/18, 1972) 2.43. 10. For a time, a number of New Novelists were claiming that their readers were free to create their own fictions from the works the authors offered. See, e.g., Jean Ricardou, “Naissance d’une fiction,” Nouveau roman: Hier, aujourd’hui 2.393–417, and Alain Robbe-Grillet, “An Interview with Alain Robbe-Grillet,” by Beverly Livingston, Yale French Studies 57 (1979) 235. The novelists’ insin- cerity was perhaps highlighted by the vociferous rejection of Jean Alter’s interpretation, which was not harmonious with the author’s intention— “Perspectives et modèles,” Nouveau roman: Hier, aujourd’hui 1.35–73. 11. Pavel, “The Novel in Search of Itself: A Historical Morphology,” The Novel, ed. Franco Moretti, vol. 2 (Princeton: Princeton UP, 2006) 3–31. 12. Barzun, “The Novel Turns Tale,” The Novel and Its Changing Form: Essays, ed. R. G. Collins (Winnipeg: U of Manitoba P, 1972) 128–29. 13. Virginia Woolf, “Modern Fiction,” The Common Reader, first series (1925; London: Hogarth P, 1962) 190. 14. W. Tatarkiewicz, “Form in the History of Aesthetics,” Dictionary of the History of Ideas: Studies of Selected Pivotal Ideas, ed. Philip P.Wiener, 5 vols. (New York, Scribner, 1973–74) 2: 216–25. 15. Leonard Orr, Problems and Poetics of the Nonaristotelian Novel (Lewisburg: Bucknell UP, 1991) 14. NOTES TO PAGES 6–9 167

16. Hunter, Before Novels: the Cultural Contexts of Eighteenth-Century English Fic- tion (New York: W.W. Norton, 1990) 7. Although I agree with Franco Moretti that genres are morphological, at least to the point that incorporated subsets can vary paradigmatically, I differ in that I do not believe that the novel genre, at least, is chronologically demarcated. Moretti’s best examples justify his belief in temporality, but they are rather limited generic structures or subgenres, like epistolary novels, gothic novels, and historical novels, and it seems both more interesting and more useful to see the similarity between these and other kinds of novels. Such attempts uncover the structures that transcend time, while components (or subsets) like plot, character, and theme of the definition change. See, Franco Moretti, Graphs, Maps, Trees: Abstract Mod- els for a Literary History (London: Verso, 2005). Michael McKeon recognizes that prior to the eighteenth century there were novels, although they were indiscriminately referred to as romances, histories, or novels. They mediated history and romance as the middle class rose and took form, though he believes that Richardson and Fielding, in particular, introduced something new to the enlightenment culture—McKeon, The Origins of the English Novel: 1600–1740 (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins UP, 1987) 25–26. Doody makes the point that “[s]ets and subsets are not stable entities but fluid variables dependent on the conceptual interests of those who deal with them”—The True Story of the Novel xvii. See, also, Arthur Heiserman, TheNovelBeforetheNovel(Chicago: U of Chicago P, 1977), and Pierre Grimal, ed., “Introduction,” Romans grecs & latins. Bibliothèque de la Pléiade (Paris: Gallimard, 1963) ix–xxiv, who provide numerous examples of ancient novels. 17. Neither Lynn A. Higgins, NewNovel,NewWave,NewPolitics:Fictionandthe Representation of History in Postwar France (Lincoln: U of Nebraska P, 1966) 14, nor Bloom were, of course, the first to make such a point. As Wallace Martin pointed out, Roman Jakobson argued in an essay of 1921 that each new generation of writers “tends to assert that the works of its predecessors are improbable, artificial, stylized, not true to life”—Recent Theories of Narrative (Ithaca, NY: Cornell UP, 1986) 64. 18. Not everyone agrees with this distinction. Jeremy Hawthorn takes his definition from the Oxford English Dictionary: “a novel is a ‘fictitious prose narrativeortaleofconsiderablelength...in which characters and actions representative of the real life of past or present times are portrayed in a plot of more or less complexity’ ”—Studying the Novel, 4th ed. (London: Arnold, 2001) 4. 19. Leonard Orr gives an excellent summary of those who have believed that art must be unified (or coherent, complete, or closed)—Problems and Poetics 13–30—though he disagrees and considers novels that are “epistemologi- cal rather than emotional in mode ...non-mimetic ...non-chronological but not achronological ...and non-teleological” to differ in nature, thus are nonaristotelian (31). The concept of resolution, rather than unity, may avoid the problem whether the novel’s predominant design is an image or a sequence. 168 NOTES TO PAGES 9–11

20. Pablo Picasso, “Conversation with Picasso,” by Christian Zervos, in The Cre- ative Process: A Symposium, ed. Brewster Ghiselin (Berkeley: U of California P, 1954) 49. 21. Richter, Fable’s End, Completeness and Closure in Rhetorical Fiction (Chicago: U of Chicago P, 1974) 6–7. For contrary examples, for example, see what Gayatri Spivak has to say about recent literary discourse: “Whereas in other kinds of discourses there is a move toward the final truth of a situation, literature, even within this argument, displays that the truth of a human situation is the itinerary of not being able to find it. In the general discourse of the humani- ties, there is a sort of search for solutions, whereas in literary discourse there is a playing out of the problem as the solution, if you like”—In Other Worlds: Essays in Cultural Politics (New York and London: Methuen, 1987) 77. 22. Robin Wood, “Godard and Weekend,” Weekend/Wind from the East, by Jean- Luc Godard, Modern Film Scripts (New York: Simon and Schuster, 1972) 5. For an illustration, see the conflicting readings author and critic give William Burrough’s The Exterminator—Ihab Hassan, “The Subtracting Machine: The Work of William Burroughs,” Critique 6 (1963) 10. 23. Kermode, The Sense of an Ending: Studies in the Theory of Fiction (Oxford: Oxford UP, 1967) 138. 24. I make more distinctions than Northrop Frye’s drama, epos, fiction, and lyric, only as a matter of usefulness and common practice. I would also agree with Stephen Heath that “the [Aristotelian] lyrical-epical-dramatic triad is ...a matter not of genres but rather of modes of enunciation, ways of present- ing that do not in themselves involve any defined content”—“The Politics of Genre,” Debating World Literature, ed. Christopher Prendergast (London: Verso, 2004) 166–67. A recent, special issue of PMLA provides meat for critical teratologists. Some Americanists of a post-structuralist bent restructure the concept of genre to include a “database as an emerging genre”—Ed Folsom, “Reply,” PMLA 122.5 (October 2007): 1609. For Wai Chee Dimock, “Introduc- tion:GenresasFieldsofKnowledge,”PMLA 122.5 (October 2007): 1377–88; Ed Folsom, “Database as Genre: The Epic Transformation of Archives,” 1571– 79; Lev Manovich, The Language of the New Media (Cambridge, MA: M.I.T. P, 2001)—and others, the morphological aspect of genre, and indeed narrative have conflated—see, N. Katherine Hayles, “Narrative and Database: Natural Symbionts,” PMLA 1603. Embracing virtually unlimited sequence, depth, and breadth (any item with the slightest connection to Whitman is accepted by the database), unlike the rigidly structured movement of a Calder mobile, theterms“genre”and“narrative”havebecomesolooselyrelatedastobe useless for anyone believing in the essential discrimination of art. Jerome McGann terms the redefined terminology “seriously misleading”—“Database, Interface, and Archival Fever,” PMLA 1588. 25. Hirsch, The Aims of Interpretation (Chicago: U of Chicago P, 1976) 120–21. Maupassant is even more categorical: “After Manon Lescaut, Paul et Virginie, Don Quichotte, Les liaisons dangereuses, Werther, Les affinités électives, Clarisse Harlowe, Emile, Candide, Cinq-Mars, René, Les trois mousquetaires, Mauprat, NOTES TO PAGES 12–13 169

Le père Goriot, La cousine Bette, Colomba. Le rouge et le noir, Mademoiselle de Maupin, Notre-Dame de Paris, Salammbô, Madame Bovary, Adolphe, M. de Camors, L’Assommoir, Sapho, etc., the critic who still dares to write: ‘This is a novel and that is not’ seems to me to be gifted with perspicacity that strongly resembles incompetence”—“Le roman,” Pierre et Jean (Paris: Ollendorff, 1908) 2. B. E. Perry is somewhat less pessimistic: “It is useful and legitimate to speak of literary forms or genres only so long as we understand those terms in a purely descriptive sense as referring to arbitrary categories of literary phenom- ena, categories which may be greatly varied, multiplied or restricted at will, according to the criteria on which one chooses to base them. But a genre in this sense of a category cannot have a genealogy. ...It is true that a genre in the description, ex post facto sense may represent (and usually does) a strong literary fashion, which in turn may influence a subsequent genre; but such influence is strictly secondary and superficial”—The Ancient Romances: A Literary-Historical Account of Their Origins (Berkeley: U of California P, 1967) 20. Norman Friedman takes a position more in line with my own: “Try- ing to particularize the definition of a genre on the basis of a single and general differentia, which is all too common, is doomed to failure from the start. What is needed instead is a set of multiple differentiae”—“Recent Short Story The- ories: Problems in Definition,” Short Story Theory at a Crossroads, ed. Susan Lohafer and Jo Ellyn Clarey (Baton Rouge: Louisiana State UP, 1989) 17–18. 26. Leon S. Roudiez, French Fiction Today: A New Direction (New Brunswick: Rutgers UP, 1972) 6. 27. See, Douglas Hesse’s analysis of what he calls a “boundary zone”: “A Boundary Zone: First-Person Short Stories and Narrative Essays,” ed. Susan Lohafer and Jo Ellyn Clarey 85–105. 28. Jurij Tynjanov, “On Literary Evolution” (1927), Readings in Russian Poetics: Formalist and Structuralist Views, ed. Ladislav Matejka and Krystyna Pomorska (Cambridge, MA: M.I.T. P, 1978) 72–73. 29. Tzvetan Todorov, Les genres du discours (Paris: Seuil, 1978) 45. For a contrary point of view, i.e., “[T]he novel has no fixed identity and never will,” see, Irving H. Buchen, “The Aesthetics of the Supra-Novel,” ed. John Halperin 97. 30. Richard Pearce, “ ‘The Present and Future States of Novel Criticism’: Our Two- Headed Profession,” Why the Novel Matters, ed. Mark Spilka and Caroline McCracken-Flesher (Bloomington: Indiana UP, 1990) 35. There is, of course, a negative side to “the powerful effect that preconceived generic assump- tions have on a reader’s understanding of every textual moment,” as Dorrit Cohn insists in considering the writers who have viewed Freud’s case studies as fiction—The Distinction of Fiction (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins UP, 1999) 47. 31. See, Enrico de’Negri, “The Legendary Style of the Decameron,” Romanic Review 43 (1952): 166–89. 32. One of Bakhtin’s points in, “Epic and Novel: Toward a Methodology for the Study of the Novel,” Modern Genre Theory, ed. David Duff (Harlow: Longman, 2000) 68–81. 170 NOTES TO PAGES 14–17

33. Stephen Owen gives another example: Heliodorus’s Aethiopica was a history from around 1569, before becoming a “romance” and finally a “novel”— “Genres in Motion,” PMLA 122.5 (2007): 1389–90. Robert Scholes advances an interesting twist on the importance of the reader’s expectations. He adds that of the author by beginning “The Novel as Ethical Paradigm?” with a familiar passage, after which he announces, “I must stop and confess to an unethical act.” He has “plagiarized” from an essay by Ortega Y. Gasset. In confessing, he has “transformed an unethical act into an ethical one. What began as theft has ended as the quotation and citation of authority. The unethical has become the ethical”—“The Novel as Ethical Paradigm?” Why the Novel Matters, ed. Spilka and McCracken-Flesher 207. 34. Heinrich Wölfflin, Principles of Art History: The Problem of the Development of Style in Later Art, trans. from the 7th ed. (1929) by M. D. Hottinger (New York: Dover, n.d.). 35. Williams, A Beginning on the Short Story [Notes] (Yonkers, NY: Alicat Bookshop Press, 1950) 5. I have considered the short story in considerably more detail in: “On Defining Short Stories,” New Literary History 22.2 (1991): 409–24, republished in, Charles May, ed., The New Short Story Theories (Athens: Ohio UP, 1994) 114–30. 36. Paul Zumthor, “La brièveté comme forme,” Formation, codification et ray- onnement d’un genre médiéval: La nouvelle, Actes du colloque international de Montréal (McGille U, 14–16 octobre 1982), ed. Michelangelo Picone et al. (Montreal: Plato Academic P, 1983) 3. Of course, the idea that form is content and in their relationship the one is governed by the other is implicit in Aristotle. Nor is the thought that brevity may structure short stories new— see, e.g., Edward D. Sullivan, Maupassant: The Short Stories (London: Edward Arnold, 1962). Zumthor’s contribution resides in his attempt to go beyond the “form equals content” truism and to show how, specifically, the quality of being short affects form at every level. See, also, Zumthor’s Essaidepoétiquemédié- val (Paris: Seuil, 1972), 339–404. I attempt to carry the analysis somewhat further. 37. The Joycean epiphany, often referred to as a “revelatory moment,” is compa- rable to one of Proust’s “blessed moments” [moments bienheureux]. Joyce uses it to suggest the Incarnation of the Word, “in the liturgical sense, i.e., as the shining-forth of the mystery of the Incarnation”—Beryl Schlossman, Joyce’s Catholic Comedy of Language (Madison: U of Wisconsin P, 1985) 102. I shall return to the Proustian moment bienheureux in chapter 6. 38. See, e.g., Marian Zwerling Sugano, “Beyond What Meets the Eye: The Photo- graphic Analogy in Cortázar’s Short Stories,” Style 27.3 (1993): 332–51, and Charles May, “Reality in the Modern Short Story,” in the same special issue 369–79. May’s “The Nature of Knowledge in Short Fiction,” The New Short Story Theories 131–43, is particularly useful. For an analysis of image (spatial or descriptive) and process (sequential or narrative) structures in the same story, see Suzanne Hunter Brown’s consideration of Faulkner’s “A Rose for Emily”—“Reframing Stories,” Short Story at a Crossroads, ed. Lohafer and Clarey 311–27. NOTES TO PAGES 17–24 171

39. Charles Baudelaire, “Théophile Gautier,” Œuvres complètes, Bibliothèque de la Pléiade (Paris: Gallimard, 1962) 691. Jeremy Hawthorn puts the matter in less lurid language: “One of the things which sets the novel apart from many other literary genres is its ability to incorporate the most disparate elements from human life and experience in itself” (17). 40. Michael Wood, “The Last Night of All,” PMLA 122.5 (2007): 1401n4. 41. Shattuck’s discussion of the necessity of “forgetfulness” is excellent: Proust’s Binoculars: A Study of Memory, Time and Recognition in À la recherche du temps perdu (New York: Random House, 1963) 65–68. Howard Nemerov’s little book also talks about what interests me here: the “causes that grow subterraneously, invisibly, until at last they erupt through the surface and begin to bloom as determinate effects”—The Oak in the Acorn: On Remembrance of Things Past and on Teaching Proust, Who Will Never Learn (Baton Rouge: Louisiana State UP, 1987) 44. 42. Pasco, “Crazy Writing and Reliable Text in The Yellow Wallpaper,” Charlotte Perkins Gilman’s The Yellow Wallpaper: A Dual-Text Critical Edition, ed. Shawn St. Jean (Athens: Ohio UP, 2006) 88–99. 43. Gide, Œuvres complètes d’André Gide, ed. L. Martin-Chauffier, 15 vols. (Paris: N.R.F., 1932–39) 6.361. 44. Gide, Journal: 1889–1939, 2 vols., Bibliothèque de la Pléiade (Paris: Gallimard, 1951, 1954) 1.760. 45. Eagleton, The English Novel 13. As Mary Donaldson-Evans suggested to me, I should mention Flaubert’s Madame Bovary here, since the entire novel turns on this distinction. 46. Quoted by, Hans Boll-Johansen, “Une théorie de la nouvelle et son applica- tion aux Chroniques italiennes de Stendhal,” Revuedelalittératurecomparée50 (1976): 422. 47. Robbe-Grillet, Pour un nouveau roman, Collection Idées (Paris: N.R.F., 1963) 20. 48. Victor Erlich, Russian Formalism: History—Doctrine, 3d ed. (Paris: Mouton, 1969) 213. 49. Anonymous editor, Adventures in the Skin Trade and Other Stories, by Dylan Thomas (New York: Signet, 1956) vii. 50. Johnson, “Introduction to Aren’t You Rather Young to Be Writing Your Mem- oirs?” The Novel Today: Contemporary Writers on Modern Fiction, ed. Malcolm Bradbury (Manchester: Manchester UP, 1977) 154. Mark Schorer is not quite so categorical: “[A] novel ...is not life; and the critical problem is first of all to analyze the structure of the image”—“Fiction and the ‘Analogical Matrix,’” Critiques and Essays on Modern Fiction, 1920–1951, Representing the Achieve- ment of Modern American and British Critics, ed.JohnW.Aldridge(NewYork: Ronald, 1952) 83. 51. Woolf, ARoomofOne’sOwn(New York: Harcourt, Brace, 1929) 5–6. Diderot likewise leaves no doubt about the truth of fiction: “He who would take what I write as the truth would be less mistaken than he who would take it as a fable”—Denis Diderot, Jacques le fataliste (1796), Œuvres romanesques, ed. Henri Bénac (Paris: Garnier, 1962) 505. 172 NOTES TO PAGES 24–34

52. Thomas J. Roberts, When Is Something Fiction? (Carbondale: Southern Illinois UP, 1972) 11. See, also, René Wellek and Austin Warren, Theory of Literature (New York: Harcourt, Brace, 1949) 15–16, 221–22; Monroe C. Beardsley, Aes- thetics: Problems in the Philosophy of Criticism (New York: Harcourt, Brace, 1958) 419–37; and Michel Butor, Répertoire [I] (Paris: Minuit, 1960) 7–8. 53. Philippe Van Tieghem, “Les prosateurs du XVIIe siècle,” Encyclopédie de la Pléiade, ed. Raymond Queneau, vol. 3 (Paris: Gallimard, 1958) 429. 54. Joseph Frank, The Widening Gyre: Crisis and Mastery in Modern Litera- ture, Midland Book (1963; rpt. Bloomington: Indiana UP, 1968); and my Novel Conﬁgurations 51–71; for “tone,” see Robert Pinget, “Pseudo-principes d’esthétique,” Nouveau roman, ed. Ricardou, and van Rossum-Guyon 2.311– 24; for “mood,” see, Georg Lukacs, The Theory of the Novel (Cambridge, MA: M.I.T. P, 1971) 51–52; for “theme,” see, Frank O’Connor (pseud. Michael O’Donovan), The Lonely Voice: A Study of the Short Story (Cleveland: World Publishing, 1963). 55. Tzvetan Todorov, “La grammaire du récit,” Langages, no. 12 (1968) 96; Gerald Prince, AGrammarofStories(The Hague: Mouton, 1973) 31. 56. Annie Ernaux, Une femme (Paris: Gallimard, 1987) 106. 57. Blanchot, “Autour du roman,” 110. 58. Ian Reid, The Short Story, Critical Idiom, no. 37 (London: Methuen, 1977) 12–13. 59. H. E. Bates, The Modern Short Story: A Critical Survey (Boston: The Writer, 1972) 17. Anton Chekhov, “The Short Story,” The New Short Story Theories, ed. May, 195–98. A character in Richard Powers’s novel Galatea 2.2 concludes, simply, “Maybe the only universally valid generalization about stories: they end”—(New York: Farrar, 1995) 219 (previously quoted by M. Wood 1395). 60. Maurice Merleau-Ponty calls this an “intermediate person,” that is, neither a ﬁrst nor a third person, but rather an indeterminate voice that could be and is occasionally both—“Cinq notes sur Claude Simon,” Médiations: Revue des expressions contemporaines 4 (Winter 1961): 6. 61. Wellek, “Literary History,” Literary Scholarship: Its Aims and Methods, ed. Norman Foerster et al. (Chapel Hill: U of North Carolina P, 1941) 124.

Chapter 2

1. “A story cycle ...is a set of stories linked to each other in such a way as to maintain a balance between the individuality of each of the stories and the necessities of the larger unit”—Forrest L. Ingram, Representative Short Story Cycles of the Twentieth Century: Studies in a Literary Genre (The Hague: Mouton, 1971) 15. A few pages farther on, he insists that the stories of such cycles are so linked to each other “that the reader’s successive experience on various levels of the pattern of the whole signiﬁcantly modiﬁes his experience of each of its component parts” (19). Susan Mann phrases it somewhat dif- ferently: “[T]here is only one essential characteristic of the short story cycle: NOTES TO PAGES 35–36 173

the stories are both self sufficient and interrelated. On the one hand, the stories work independently of one another: the reader is capable of understanding each of them without going beyond the limits of the individual story. On the other hand, however, the stories work together, creating something that could not be achieved in a single story”—Susan Garland Mann, The Short Story Cycle: A Genre Companion and Reference Guide (New York: Greenwood P, 1989) 15. Some years after the publication of Ingram’s book, Robert M. Luscher suggests preferring the term “short story sequence” to “short story cycle”—“The ShortStorySequence:AnOpenBook,”Short Story Theory at a Crossroads, ed. Susan Lohafer and Jo Ellyn Clarey (Baton Rouge: Louisiana State UP, 1987) 148–67. For reasons that will become clear, I prefer the term “cycle,” which is large enough to incorporate the two most important modes of cyclical structure: sequential and image. 2. Albert Camus, Théâtre, récits, nouvelles, ed. Roger Quilliot, Bibliothèque de la Pléiade (Paris: Gallimard, 1962) 1568. All further references to L’exil et le royaume will be to this edition and indicated parenthetically. 3. Baldi, “L’exil et le royaume d’Albert Camus: une lecture de la nouvelle ‘Les muets,’ ” Francophonia 13.24 (1993): 91. Although the study is nominally a consideration of only one story, her understanding of the whole is remarkably perceptive (92). 4. Prescott, quoted from English Showalter, Jr., Exiles and Strangers: A Reading of Camus’s Exile and the Kingdom (Columbus: Ohio State UP, 1984) 10. 5. Yosei Matsumoto, “L’ombre portée par Le premier homme sur L’exil et le royaume,” Albert Camus: Lettres modernes 20 (2004): 93. 6. The problematic unity of Camusian fiction has, of course, been frequently mentioned. For a sensitive discussion, see, Gaëton Picon, L’usage de la lecture, 2 (Paris: Mercure de France, 1961) 170–72. Peter Cryle’s warning that the author’s ambiguity represents a “creative conciliation of divergent attitudes” should, however, be remembered—Bilan critique:L’exiletleroyaumed’Albert Camus: Essai d’analyse (Paris: Minard, 1973) passim. The conflict between philosophic and artistic thought and presentation has been widely discussed— e.g., Germaine Brée, Albert Camus, Columbia Essays on Modern Writers, 1 (New York: Columbia UP, 1964) 44–45; Louis Hudon, “The Stranger and the Critics,” Yale French Studies 25 (1960): 60; Anthony Zahareas, “ ‘La femme adultère’: Camus’s Ironic Vision of the Absurd,” Texas Studies in Literature and Language 5 (1963): 319; Jules Roy, “La tragédie algérienne,” Camus (Paris: Hachette, 1964) 208; Owen J. Miller, “L’exil et le royaume: Cohérence du recueil,” Revue des lettres modernes 360–65 (1973): 21–50; Laura G. Durand’s subsequent, helpful “Thematic Counterpoint in L’exil et le royaume,” French Review 47 (1974): 1110–22, should be mentioned, as well. 7. Claude Coste, “Le sang dans Les diaboliques de Jules Barbey d’Aurevilly,” Tangence 70 (Fall 2002): 53–65; Pasco, “A Study of Allusion: Barbey’s Stendhal in ‘Le rideau cramoisi,’” PMLA 88 (1973): 461–71; Karen Humphreys, “Dandyism, Gems, and Epigrams: Lapidary Style and Genre Transformation in Barbey’s Les diaboliques,” Nineteenth-Century French Studies 31.3–4 (2003): 259–61, 269–73. 174 NOTES TO PAGES 37–40

8. Victor Chklovski [Shklovsky], Sur la théorie de la prose, trans. Guy Verret (1929; Lausanne: L’Age d’Homme, 1973) 99. 9. Maddocks, “Marcel Proust: Witness to a Dissolving Dream,” The Christian Science Monitor, July 10, 1971: 9. 10. See Chapter 5. 11. J. E. Cirlot, A Dictionary of Symbols (New York: Philosophical Library, 1962) 154. See, René Guénon’s related thought: Le symbolisme de la croix (Paris: Vega, 1931) 204–06. Blaise Pascal would have us believe that Janus’s (and Janine’s) problem is universal: “Let each one examine his thoughts; he will ﬁnd them all occupied with the past or with the future. We almost never think of the present, and if we think of it, it is only to gain some insight into the future. The present is never our goal. The past and the present are our means; only the future is our goal. So it is that we never live, but only hope to live, and are always arranging things to be happy. Inevitably, we will never be”—Pascal, Pensées, ed. Philippe Sellier (Paris: Mercure de France, 1976) 57n80. 12. Carina Gadourek, Les innocents et les coupables: essai d’exégèse de l’œuvre d’Albert Camus (The Hague: Mouton, 1963) 202. 13. Showalter rightly emphasizes the importance of meals: the communal meals shared by Yvars and Saïd, repeated between Yvars and his wife, the schoolteacher and his prisoner, and D’Arrast and the little group at the end. He also points to the “anti-communal” meals of Janine and Marcel and to the bitter drinks and salt forced on the renegade (60–61). 14. In respect to L’étranger, Emily Zants says, “When the sun reigns omnipo- tently, the ideals become ideologies, absolute systems which disregard the individual”—“Camus’ Deserts and their Allies, Kingdoms of the Stranger,” Symposium 17 (I963): 36. It is because the sun appears in close association with extremes that S. Beynon John notes “a tonality of violence” evoked by “allusions to the sun in Camus’ essays”—“Image and Symbol in the Work of Albert Camus” (1955), Camus: A Collection of Critical Essays, ed. Germaine Brée (Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice-Hall, 1962) 135—and that Victor Brombert considers the “word ‘sun’ [a] symbol of absolute violence”—The Intellectual Hero: Studies in the French Novel, 1880–1955 (Philadelphia: J. B. Lippincott, 1961) 228. Brombert’s essay concentrates on the importance of absolutism to an understanding of the story. See, also, Patricia J. Johnson, “An Impossi- ble Search for Identity: Theme and Imagery in Camus’ ‘Le renégat,’” Research Studies (Pullman, WA) 37 (1969): esp. 172–77, for a discussion of the sun and its relationship to Christ. As for absolutism, Curtis writes, “In ‘Le renégat’ the crucial issue seems to be ...that absolutism alienates and essentially destroys the humanity of man”—“Alienation and the Foreigner in Camus’ L’exil et le royaume,” French Literature Series 2 (1975): 132. 15. In respect to “râ,” see, Stephen Ullmann,TheImageintheModernFrench Novel: Gide, Alain-Fournier, Proust, Camus (Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 1960) 293; Marguerite Nicod-Saraiva, “Une lecture du ‘Renégat,’” Etudes de lettres, serie 3, t. 6.2 (avril-juin 1973) 79; Philip Thody, Albert Camus: 1913– 1960 (New York: Macmillan, 1961) 188, and the related note on 240; and, NOTES TO PAGES 41–43 175

finally, Roger Barny, “Une lecture descriptive du ‘Renégat,’” Mélanges offerts àJeanPeytard,ed. Jacques Bourquin et Daniel Jacobi (Paris: Belles Lettres, 1993) 145, 149. In respect to the theme of silence, see, Pierre Gascar, “Le dernier visage de Camus,” Camus (Paris: Hachette, 1964) 262–63; Lawrence D. Joiner, “Reverie and Silence in ‘Le renégat,’” Romance Notes 16 (1975): 262–67. 16. Camus uses the names to stress the social conflict: Yvars derives from “yew,” a flexible wood used to make bows. Marcou very likely derives from Mars, the god of war, and Ballester from an Old French word meaning crossbow— Albert Dauzat, Dictionnaire étymologique des noms de famille et prénoms de France (Paris: Larousse, 1951); Patrick Hanks and Flavia Hodges, Dictionary of Surnames (Oxford: Oxford UP, 1988); and their A Dictionary of First Names (Oxford: Oxford UP, 1990). 17. Roelens, “Un texte, son ‘histoire’ et l’histoire ‘L’hôte’ d’Albert Camus,” Revue des sciences humaines 165 (1977): 14. 18. Guers-Villate, “Rieux et Daru ou le refus délibéré d’influencer autrui,” Papers on Language and Literature 3 (1967): 231, a conclusion that Cryle accepts (e.g., 135). Other conclusions vary wildly. Cryle offers a survey in his chapter on “L’hôte.” Since Cryles’ summation, the story has continued to elicit commen- tary, the most curious of which is “that the Arab tribesmen do not exist and that the words ‘clumsily chalked-up’ on Daru’s blackboard were composed by the schoolmaster himself.” This possibility, the author points out, “has consistently been overlooked by critics of ‘The Guest’ ”—Constance Rooke, “Camus’ ‘The Guest’: The Message on the Blackboard,” Studies in Short Fiction 14 (1977): 78. Of course, the text gives no evidence of Daru’s hand. 19. Simon, “Camus’ Kingdom: The Native Host and an Unwanted Guest,” Studies in Short Fiction 1 (1964): 290. 20. Albert Camus, Essais, ed. R. Quilliot and L. Faucon, Bibliothèque de la Pléiade (Paris: Gallimard, 1965) 1079. 21. For Jerry Curtis, the star is “that spacious, silent and obscure inner vision which we call intuition”—“Structure and Space in Camus’ ‘Jonas,’” Modern Fiction Studies 22 (1976–77): 575. Raymond Gay-Crosier’s consideration of the star is excellent: “Renegades Revisited: from Jonas to Clamence,” Albert Camus’ L’exil et le royaume: The Third Decade, ed. Anthony Rizzuto (Toronto: Paratexte, 1988) 21–26. See, also, Adele King, “Jonas ou l’artiste au travail,” French Studies 20 (1966): 267–80. She suggests convincingly that essays by George Orwell (Inside the Whale) and Henry Miller (Un être étoilique)had a decisive impact on the star of this story. To her analysis of “Jonas” in terms of Camus’ life should be added a passage that Peter Cryle, I believe, first quoted from Camus’ Carnets (10 janvier 1950): “I never saw very clearly within myself, but I always instinctively followed an invisible star ...”—Carnets: janvier 1942–mars 1951 (Paris: Gallimard, 1964) 303. Cryle gives the text in his Bilan critique 158. For Jerry Curtis, the star is “that spacious, silent and obscure inner vision which we call intuition”—“Structure and Space in Camus’ ‘Jonas,’” Modern Fiction Studies 22 (1976–77): 575. 176 NOTES TO PAGES 44–51

22. The relationship of “L’hôte” to “La pierre qui pousse” may be indicated by the similarity in the names, both of which make use of “dar” (Spanish for “to give”): DARu and d’Arrast (DARrast), one suggestive of a French past tense and one of the reflexive future—se te dara. 23. Michael Issacharoff, L’espace et la nouvelle (Paris: Jose Corti, 1976) 101–02. 24. In addition, as Alexander Fischler has pointed out, “throughout the conception of L’exil et le royaume, which originally was to include La chute, Camus devel- oped a series of figures who somehow found a road in the world that they can follow, not so much because they established a direct rapport with their fellow men, but because they experienced a mystical communion in which cosmic forces as well as the very elements participated without losing any of their awe- inspiring and alien majesty. D’Arrast, the colossus at the end of the series, is fit to embody all his predecessors, though even he is somewhat strained under the weight of so much symbolism”—“Camus’s ‘La pierre qui pousse’: Saint George and the Protean Dragon,” Symposium 24 (1970): 216. In a note Fischler refers to d’Arrast as “the bridge-builder becoming pontiff” (n8), a pun, of course, on “pont,” the French word for “bridge.” I see d’Arrast as a pontiff only to the degree that he is a model man. 25. Philip Thody makes the point clearly: “D’Arrast cannot sacrifice his intelligence and join the natives of Iguape in the wild dancing through which they quite forget their own individuality, any more than he can live in his own country where ‘the rulers are merchants or policemen.’ ... He can share religious feeling but not religious faith”—Albert Camus: A Study of His Work (1957; rpt. New York: Grove, 1959) 91. Fischler goes on to draw attention to d’Arrast’s nausea, which, he suggests, emphasizes his “ontological separate- ness” (212) and which Camus toned down considerably in revising the early drafts. Fischler explains: “He was perhaps becoming aware of an excessively Sartrean note in his presentation” (217n71). 26. Jacques Petit, ed., Œuvres romanesques complètes, by Barbey d’Aurevilly, Bibliothèque de la Pléiade, 2 vols. (Paris: Gallimard, 1964, 1966) 2.1275. All further references to Les Diaboliques will be to this edition. 27. Jacques-Henry Bornecque, ed., “Introduction,” Les Diaboliques, by Barbey d’Aurevilly (Paris: Garnier, 1963) xcvii. 28. A fictional character to whom a story is told—Gerald Prince, A Grammar of Stories (The Hague: Mouton, 1973); “Introduction to the Study of the Narratee,” Reader-Response Criticism, ed. Jane P. Tompkins (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins UP, 1980) 7–25. In this case, the narratee has heard a story, which he then tells. As will be clear below, there can be several levels of narratees and narrators. 29. See my, “A Study of Allusion: Barbey’s Stendhal in ‘Le Rideau cramoisi.’” All of these tales are riddled with references to Satan, the devil, hell. See, also, Robert Willard Artinian’s “Barbey’s Decadence: The Test of Time,” French Literature Series 11 (1984): 89–96. 30. Anne Giard, “Le récit lacunaire dans les Diaboliques,” Poétique 41 (1980): 39. The frustration is indeed so textually inscribed that Herta Rodina considers NOTES TO PAGES 52–58 177

it harassment—“Textual Harrassment: Barbey d’Aurevilly’s Les diaboliques,” Nineteenth-Century French Studies 24.1 & 2 (1995–96): 144–53. 31. Jacques Petit, “Note sur la structure des Diaboliques,” Revue des lettres modernes 199–202 (1969): 88. See, also, his comment 2.1302n2. 32. Gracq, “Préface,” Les diaboliques, by Barbey d’Aurevilly (Paris: Livre de poche, 1960) 3. 33. Petit, Essais de lectures des Diaboliques de Barbey d’Aurevilly (Paris: Lettres modernes Minard, 1974) 32–33. 34. Berthier, L’ensorcelée, Les diaboliques de Barbey d’Aurevilly (Paris: Champion, 1987) 102. See, also, Jacques-Henry Bornecque, ed., Les diaboliques, by Barbey d’Aurevilly (Paris: Garnier, 1963) c. 35. Philippe Berthier, “Les diaboliques et la critique française,” Revue des lettres modernes 403–08 (1974): 92. For Jean-Paul Bonnes, it is “doubtless the least interesting of these stories and ...the least diabolical”—Le bonheur du masque: petite introduction aux romans de Barbey d’Aurevilly (Tournai: Casterman, 1947) 99. 36. For recollections of Delacroix, see Bornecque 79n1; Petit, Œuvres romanesques 2.1305n2. For Petit, the image of Sardanapalos’s pyre is simply a “triumphant image of destruction” (Essais 111), but as Patrick Brady has pointed out in detail, the painting turns around impotence: Interdisiplinary Interpretation of Art and Literature: The Principle of Convergence (Knoxville: New Paradigm Press, 1996) ch. 2. 37. J.-K. Huysmans, Àrebours(1884; Paris: Fasquelle, 1968) 40. 38. In respect to this erotic mass, see, especially, Philippe Berthier, “Les diaboliques àtable,”Barbey d’Aurevilly: L’ensorcelée et les diaboliques: La chose sans nom, Actes du colloque du 16 janvier 1988 (Paris: SEDES, 1988) 134–35; Marie- Claire Ropars-Wuilleumier, “ ‘Le plus bel amour de Don Juan’: narration et signification,” Littérature 9 (1973): 118; Jean-Pierre Boucher, Les diaboliques de Barbey d’Aurevilly: une esthétique de la dissimulation et de la provocation (Montréal: P de l’U du Québec, 1976) 52. Guillemette I. Holder points out that through linguistic slippage, Don Juan is identified with the devil—“Séduction narrative et donjuanisme chez Barbey d’Aurevilly,” Nineteenth-Century French Studies 23.1 & 2 (1994–95): 172–73. 39. Crouzet, “Barbey d’Aurevilly et l’oxymore: ou La rhétorique du diable,” La chose sans nom 88. 40. Andrée Hirschi, ed., “Le ‘Procès’ des Diaboliques,” Revue des lettres modernes 9 (1974): 19. 41. Przybos, “ ‘Le plus bel amour de Don Juan’ or a Child’s Phantom Pregnancy,” Notebook in Cultural Analysis 2 (1985): 56–57. 42. McKeon (106) also cites Pascaline Mourier-Casile, who discusses the readers’ desire for a conclusion, a frustration “that will not be satisfied”— Barbey d’Aurevilly, “Préface,” Les diaboliques (Paris: Pocket, 1993) 24–25. 43. Armand Le Corbeiller, Les diaboliques de Barbey d’Aurevilly (Paris: Malfère, 1939) 93. 178 NOTES TO PAGES 58–65

44. Some of these questions were posed by Berthier, L’ensorcelée, 101, 104–06; Bornecque xcviii; Michel Crouzet, ed., “Introduction,” Les diaboliques, by Barbey d’Aurevilly (Paris: Imprimerie nationale, 1989) 20; and Petit, Essais 21. 45. Pasco, “Barbey d’Aurevilly’s Force of Evil dessous les cartes,” Romance Studies 28.1 (January 2010): 36–47. 46. “The story, for Don Juan, never began. The plot never ends”—Petit, Essais 27. “[T]his, the most beautiful love, never happened”—Michel Crouzet, “Barbey d’Aurevilly et l’oxymore: ou La rhétorique du diable,” La chose sans nom 88. These critics do not appreciate the crucial spiritual blasphemy and focus rather on the insignificant, nonexistent, physical penetration. See, also, Giard, “Récit lacunaire” 43, 51. 47. Petit, “Le temps romanesque et la ‘mise en abyme,’” Revue des lettres modernes 199–202 (1969): 37–38. It is also true as Petit later suggests that “[i]n each Diabolique, at a precise instant, a whole is formed that was up to this point confused”—Jacques Petit, “Note sur la structure des Diaboliques,” Revue des lettres modernes 199–202 (1969): 199–202. 48. Forrest Ingram insists that the stories of cycles are so linked to each other “that the reader’s successive experience on various levels of the pattern of the whole significantly modifies his experience of each of its component parts”—Representative Short Story Cycles 19. 49. Culler, Structuralist Poetics: Structuralism, Linguistics and the Study of Literature (London: Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1975) 113–14. This statement needs, of course, considerable development, which Culler has expertly provided—see his chapter, “Literary Competence,” 113–30.

Chapter 3

1. See, especially, Mary Donaldson-Evans, Medical Examinations: Dissecting the Doctor in French Narrative Prose, 1857–1894 (Lincoln, NE: U of Nebraska P, 2000) 22–40; Max Aprile, “L’aveugle et sa signiﬁcation dans Madame Bovary,” Revue d’histoire littéraire de la France 76 (1976): 385–92; P. M. Wetherill, “Madame Bovary’s Blind Man: Symbolism in Flaubert,” Romanic Review 61 (1970): 35–42. 2. Pasco, “Myth, Metaphor and Meaning in Germinal,” French Review 46 (1973): 739–49. 3. Michael Issacharoff, J.-K. Huysmans devant la critique en France (1874–1960) (Paris: Klincksieck, 1970) 67–68. Pierre Jourde’s more recent study comes to the same conclusion: Huysmans—À rebours: l’identité impossible (Geneva: Slatkine, 1991) 9. 4. Émile Zola’s “confusion” was expressed in his letter of May 20, 1884, to Huysmans: Pierre Lambert, ed., Lettres inédites à Émile Zola (Geneva: Droz, 1953) 103–04. 5. William York Tindall, The Literary Symbol (Bloomington: Indiana UP, 1965) 69. Per Buvik also wonders whether it is a novel (16) and concludes that the work is “composed of a series of odd textual fragments that refer to nothing but NOTES TO PAGES 65–66 179

themselves”—Per Buvik, “Manifeste et roman de crise: A propos d’ Àrebours, de Joris-Karl Huysmans,” Bulletin de la société J.-K. Huysmans 19.71 (1980): 26. 6. H. Brunner and J. L. de Coninck, En marge d’À rebours (Paris: Dorbon aîné, 1929) 75. Laurence M. Porter suggests, rather, a literary function in noting that Moreau’s painting of Salomé’s “jewelled costume recalls the gem- incrusted shell of the tortoise”—“Huysmans’ Àrebours: The Psychodynamics of Regression,” American Imago 44 (1987): 56. 7. Marc Fumaroli, “Préface,” Àrebours,by J.-K. Huysmans (Paris: Gallimard 1977) 21. Pedro Paulo Catharina considers the work to be constructed “on a rather thin narrative structure which does not support a true novelistic framework obeying the most traditional models,” that indeed it “destabilizes and puts the novel genre in check”—“Àrebours: cet étrange roman si en dehors de toute la littérature contemporaine,” Excavatio 20.1–02 (2005): 142–43. 8. Charles Bernheimer, Figures of Ill Repute: Representing Prostitution in Nineteenth-Century France (Cambridge: Harvard UP,1989) 263. Lilian R. Furst also stated that the actual order “could be shufﬂed without substantially alter- ing the work, specially in the middle”—The Contours of European Romanticism (London: Macmillan, 1979) 130. 9. Ruth Plaut Weinreb, “Structural Techniques in Àrebours,” French Review 49.2 (1975): 223–24. Joseph Halpern disagreed with her conclusions on the progress of des Esseintes’s sickness: “[F]or fourteen chapters we have a sense of entropic degeneration; des Esseintes’s health spirals up and down without any real change” (95). Halpern also mentions that the novel “subverts narrative logic” (94). For Daniel Grojnowski, “Àreboursis a novel in which nothing happens. Impressions, sensations, experiments, reveries of a quib- bling collector are presented in an arbitrary order as a result of a description organized as an inventory that replaces narrative logic based on episodes”— Le sujet d’À rebours (Villeneuve d’Ascq—Nord): PU du Septentrion, 1996) 30. Later, he calls it “a tale that proceeds by the juxtapositions of heteroge- neous developments” (100). “[T]he story unrolls following ricochets of the imagination” (101). 10. David Mickelsen, “Àrebours:SpatialForm,”French Forum 3.1 (1978): 48–55. 11. Huysmans, “Préface écrite vingt ans après le roman,” Àrebours,ed. Rose Fortassier, Lettres françaises (Paris: Imprimerie Nationale, 1981) 52, 61. Fur- ther references to Fortassier’s edition of the preface and the novel will be indicated parenthetically. 12. Paul Valéry, Tel Quel, Œuvres, Bibliothèque de la Pléiade, 2 vols. (Paris: Gallimard, 1960) 2.557. 13. C. A. Cevasco, “Delineating Decadence: The Inﬂuence of J.-K. Huysmans on Arthur Symons,” Nineteenth-Century Prose 23.1 (1996): 74–86. 14. Paul Valéry, November 19, 1890, Letter 13, Lettres à quelques-uns (Paris: Gallimard, 1952) 35. 15. Valéry, Letter 2, Lettres à quelques-uns 11. 16. Valéry, according to Frédéric Lefèvre, Entretiens sur J.-K. Huysmans (Paris: Horizons de France, 1931) 39. Fortassier’s edition gives a number of other examples of the novel’s reception (359–66). 180 NOTES TO PAGES 67–70

17. Gisèle Séginger, “Àreboursde Huysmans: la lévitation du sens,” Nineteenth- Century French Studies 23.3–4 (1995): 485. 18. I previously used the concept and the illustration below in an analysis of En rade:Pasco,Novel Configurations: A Study of French Fiction, 2nd ed. (Birmingham, AL: Summa Publications, 1994) 149. 19. William J. Berg, Imagery and Ideology: Fiction and Painting in Nineteenth- Century France (Lincoln: U of Nebraska P, 2007) 165. 20. The quotation is from Séginger, “Àrebours,le roman de l’écriture,” Littératures 25 (automne 1991): 72, though the entire argument is significant (74–80). Given that the two opposing, incompatible images of an oxymoron function compatibly (or combine in a third conceptual image), Roy Jay Nelson makes a similar point in suggesting that in order to make sense of Àrebours,readers must give “assent to the notion that every counterforce is dependent upon its opposite”—“Decadent Coherence in Huysmans’s Àrebours,” Modernity and Revolution in Late Nineteenth-Century France, ed. Barbara T. Cooper and Mary Donaldson-Evans (Newark: U of Delaware P, 1992) 33. 21. Françoise Carmignani-Dupont, “Fonction romanesque du récit de rêve: L’exemple d’ Àrebours,” Littérature 43 (October 1981): 57–74, and, respectively, Jeffrey B. Loomis, “Of Pride and the Fall: The Allegorical Àrebours,” Nineteenth-Century French Studies 12.4–13.1 (Summer-Fall 1984): 147–61. 22. See the discussion of methodology in Pasco, The Color-Keys to À la recherche du temps perdu (Geneva: Droz, 1976) 1–23. I have not hesitated to use documented, organized scholarly compilations of recent vintage. The most convenient references are the following: Jean Chevalier and Alain Gheerbrant, Dictionnaire des symbols: Mythes, rêves, coutumes, gestes, formes, figures, couleurs, nombres (Paris: Robert Lafont, 1969), and J. E. Cirlot, ADictio- nary of Symbols, trans. Jack Sage (New York: Philosophical Library, 1962), though I have confirmed these texts with wide reading in other resources, some of which Huysmans might have known: Artémidore’s second century The Interpretation of Dreams: Oneirocritica, trans. Robert J. White (Torrance, CA: Original Books, 1990; Isaac Myer, Qabbalah: The Philosophical Writ- ings of Solomon Ben Yebudab Ibn Gehirol or Avicebron (1888; rpt. New York: Ktav, 1970); Éliphas Lévi, Dogma et rituel de la haute magie, 2 vols. (Paris: Baillière, 1856); Lévi, La clef des grands mystères (Paris: Baillière, 1861); Lévi, Histoire de la magie (Paris: Baillière, 1860); Lévi, Fables et symboles avec leur explication (Paris: Baillière, 1862); Lévi, La science des esprits (Paris: Baillière, 1865); Frédéric Portal, Des couleurs symboliques dans l’antiquité, le moyen-âge et les temps modernes (Paris: Treuttel et Würtz, 1837); Adolphe Franck, La kabbale ou la philosophie des Hébreux (Paris: Hachette, 1843); Carl G. Jung et al., Man and His Symbols (New York: Doubleday, 1964); Jung, Mysterium Coniunctionis: An Inquiry into the Separation and Synthesis of Psy- chic Opposites in Alchemy, vol. XIV, The Collected Works, trans. R. F. C. Hull (London: Routledge, 1963); Jung, Psychology and Alchemy, vol. XII, The Col- lected Works;MirceaEliade,Myths, Dreams and Mysteries (London, Harrvill, 1960). NOTES TO PAGES 70–75 181

23. See, Robert Ziegler, Mirror of Divinity: The World and Creation in J.-K. Huysman (Newark, NJ: U of Delaware P, 2004) 139–56. 24. For the symbolic significance of the house, see, Ania Teillard, Ce que disent les rêves: le symbolisme du rêve (Paris: Stock, 1970) 54–56. A very complete analysis of the symbolic house, with many examples, is also to be found in Gaston Bachelard, La terre et les rêveries du repos (Paris: Corti, 1948) 95–129. Mallarmé’s “Les fenêtres,” offers as well a brilliant illustration. 25. Ziegler, “Taking the Words Right Out of His Mouth: From Ventriloquism to Symbol-Reading in J.-K. Huysmans,” Romanic Review 91.1–2 (Jan.–Mar. 2000): 77–88; and “The Pervert, the Aesthete, and the Novelist,” Romance Studies 25.3 (2007): 199–209. 26. Nuccitelli, “Àrebours’s Symbol of the ‘Femme-Fleur’: A Key to Des Esseintes’s Obsession,” Symposium 28 (1974): 336–45. 27. See, Emanuel J. Mickel’s analysis of the three poems in, “Àrebours’Trin- ity of Baudelairean Poems,” Nineteenth-Century French Studies 16 (1987–88): 154–61. 28. Gaston Bachelard, L’eau et les rêves: Essai sur l’imagination de la matière (Paris: J. Corti, 1947) 81. 29. I shall be referring to Étienne Bonnot Condillac, Traité des sensations (1755), ed. Georges Le Roy, Corpus générale des philosophes français: Auteurs modernes, vol. 33 (Paris: P.U.F., 1947). Condillac had considerable influence in the second half of the nineteenth century. In 1851 or 1852, Hippolyte Taine, one of the major intellectuals of the period, studied Le traité des sensations for his aggregation examination—H. Taine: Sa vie et sa correspondance: correspondance de jeunesse 1847–1853, vol. 1 (1876; Paris: Hachette, 1902) 122. Indeed, according to C. Pion, Taine’s Les philosophes français au XIXe siè- cle (Paris: Hachette, 1857) signals Condillac’s resurrection—“Condillac et sa philosophie,” Bulletin mensuel de l’académie delphinale 17 (1881–82): 18–19. Taine refers several times to the Traité in his Les origines de la France contemporaine, 3 vols. (1876–94; Paris: Hachette, 1937), e.g., 1.284–85, 317. Over a third of Victor Cousin’s Philosophie sensualiste au XVIIIe siècle, 5th ed. (Paris: Didier, 1866) is devoted to Condillac. He terms the Traité “l’ouvrage capi- tal de Condillac” (68). In 1869, Cousins said flatly, he “est le métaphysicien français du XVIIIe siècle.” Perhaps because of the Ferry educational reforms of 1879–83, there was a flurry of increased interest in the early 1880s that resulted in five separate editions of Le traité des sensations by F. Picavet, E. Belin, T.-V. Charpentier, Abbé Drioux, and Georges Lyou in 1885 and 1886. In short, the work was very much a part of the intellectual life when Huysmans wrote Àrebours.I am grateful to André Chervel, Denis D. Grélé, and Ralph Albanese for their help with Condillac’s work in the nineteenth- century. 30. Chevalier 761; Hans Biedermann, Dictionary of Symbolism, trans. James Hulbert (1992; New York: Facts on File, 1992) 358. 31. Jung, Mysterium Coniunctionis 287. See, also, Chevalier 565; Jung, Psychology and Alchemy 248; Pasco, Color-Keys 136–37n29. 182 NOTES TO PAGES 75–89

32. Cirlot 155; Chevalier 106; George Frederick Kunz, The Curious Lore of Precious Stones (1913; New York: Dover, 1971) 1–18. 33. Chevalier 284; Biedermann 347. 34. See, above, n31. Ann Heilmann believes that Gilman emphasizes the negative aspects of the color yellow—“Overwriting Decadence: Charlotte Perkins Gilman, Oscar Wilde, and the Feminization of Art in ‘The Yellow Wall-Paper,’” The Mixed Legacy of Charlotte Perkins Gilman, ed. Catherine J. Golden and Joanna Schneider Zangrando (Newark; U of Delaware P, 2000) 133n2. For the ferocity and desperation of orange, see, Oswald Wirth, Le tarot des imagiers du moyen âge (Paris: Tchou, 1966) 102. 35. Chevalier 360–62; Biedermann 135–36. That they may also represent the soul (Teillard 92) is particularly interesting, given the substance of des Esseintes’s attempt and the fact that though starting with the artificial, he then turns to the monstrously real but apparently artificial. 36. See Chapter 4. 37. Harold Bayley, The Lost Language of Symbolism: An Inquiry into the Origin of Certain Letters, Words, Names, Fairy-Tales, Folklore, and Mythologies (1912; New York: Citadel P, 1960) 157–58; Pasco, Color-Keys 160n2. 38. Biedermann 78–79; Wirth 227–32. 39. Roy Jay Nelson, “Malraux and Camus: The Myth of the Beleaguered City,” Kentucky Foreign Language Quarterly 13.2 (1966): 91. 40. See, Pasco, Balzacian Montage: Configuring La comédie humaine (Toronto: U of Toronto P, 1991) 108–13. 41. Marcel Proust, À la recherche du temps perdu, ed. Jean-Yves Tadié, 4 vols., Bibliothèque de la Pléiade (Paris: Gallimard, 1987–89) 1.153.

Chapter 4

1. Paul Valéry, “La tentation de (saint) Flaubert,” Variété, Œuvres, ed. by Jean Hytier, 2 vols. (Paris: Gallimard, 1957, 1960) 1.613, 619; Margaret G. Tillett, On Reading Flaubert (London: Oxford UP, 1961) 85. More recently, Jonathan Culler asserts that it is a “blatantly stupid ...work”—Flaubert: The Uses of Uncertainty (Ithaca, Cornell UP, 1974) 180. Albert Sonnenfeld says simply that it is a “failure”—“La tentation de Flaubert,” Cahiers de l’Association Internationale des Études Françaises 23 (1971): 311–12. John Charles Tarver does not appreciate Flaubert’s love of the grotesque, and although he is con- vinced that the book is badly titled (he believes it should have been called “A Vision of St. Anthony,” 98), it “remains the work of a giant”—Gustave Flaubert: As Seen in His Works and Correspondence (Port Washington, NY: Kennikat Press, 1970) 99. For Maurice Bardèche, it is an “imperfect but brilliant work”—Œuvres complètes, by Gustave Flaubert, vol. 4 (Paris: Club de l’honnête homme, 1971–76) 331. R. B. Leal gives a good sampling of other adverse reactions—“The Unity of Flaubert’s Tentation de saint Antoine,” Mod- ern Language Review 85 (1990): 331–32. Gisèle Séginger also gives a brief overview of the book’s reception—Naissance et métamorphoses d’un écrivain: NOTES TO PAGES 90–91 183

Flaubert et les tentations de saint Antoine (Paris: Champion, 1997) 13–16. Henri Mazel, however, offers unmitigated praise—“a work of art of absolute per- fection in its last form”—“Les trois tentations de saint Antoine,” Mercure de France 152.564 (December 15, 1921): 643. 2. For sources, see, especially, Jean Seznec’s important book-length studies, Les sources de l’épisode des dieux dans La tentation de saint Antoine (Première version, 1849) (Paris: J. Vrin, 1940), and Nouvelles études sur La tentation de saint Antoine (London: Warburg Institute, University of London, 1949), though several of his articles go further and posit certain structures, particularly of source but in a larger sense in providing an accurate reflection of the decadent aesthetic of the day: “Flaubert historien des hérésies dans la Tentation,” Romanic Review 36 (1945): 200–21, 314–28, and “Les monstres,” Nouvelles études 58–85. See, also, Francis J. Carmody, “Further Sources of La tentation de saint Antoine,” Romanic Review 49 (1958): 278–92. Many scholars have considered the novel’s genesis. See, e.g., René Dumesnil and René Descharmes, eds., Autour de Flaubert: Études historiques et documentaires: Suivies d’une bibliographie chronologique, d’un essai bibliographique des ouvrages et articles relatifs à Flaubert et d’un index des noms cités, 2 vols. (Geneva: Slatkine, 2002) 219–93; Michal Peled Ginsburg, Flaubert Writing: A Study in Narra- tive Strategies (Stanford: Stanford UP, 1986) 46–81; and the works cited in n11 below. In addition, I am significantly in the debt of those scholars who have made Flaubert’s notes, drafts, and letters available. Several are mentioned above. 3. See, his letter of January 16, 1852, where he tells Louise Colet that he “forgot” the thread for his necklace’s pearls in the effusions of the first two versions. He returns to the necklace image two weeks later, on February 1, 1852, com- plaining that there is no thread, that Saint Antoine lacks a plan. The complaint returns repeatedly. See, e.g., his letter of June 1, 1856, to Bouilhet and that of January 16, 1852, to Louise Colet. Leal provides other similar examples (“Unity” 330). 4. Flaubert regularly referred to La tentation as an “extravagant” work, see, e.g., the letter to Princess Mathilde of July 1, 1869, that of July 2, 1870, to George Sand, that of July 8, 1870, to his niece Caroline, and that of May 3, 1871, to Princess Mathilde. 5. Michel Butor, “La spirale des sept péchés,” Critique 36 (1970): 387–412. Michal Peled Ginsburg, Flaubert Writing, expands on Butor’s argument with little more precision. As the following pages will demonstrate, I disagree with her assertion that none of the versions have closure. When Flaubert finally found a “plan” he was able to give closure to his last, published version. 6. I seek, in short, the “new framework” that he finally settled on, mentioned in Flaubert’s letter of June 24, 1867, to George Sand. 7. Robert Griffin, “The Transfiguration of Matter,” French Studies 44 (1990): 18. Dominique Cardin, “Le principe des métamorphoses: Essai sur la dernière version de La tentation de saint Antoine de Flaubert,” Dalhousie French Studies 28 (1994): 101–05. 184 NOTES TO PAGES 91–95

8. Mary Orr, Flaubert Writing the Masculine (Oxford: Oxford UP, 2000)136–37. Her thought is further refined in her excellent study: Flaubert’s Tentation: Remapping Nineteenth-Century French Histories of Religion and Science (Oxford: Oxford UP, 2008). With particular regard to Flaubert’s critique of Christianity, see, Orr, “East or West? Flaubert’s La tentation de saint Antoine, or the Question of Orthodoxy,” (Un)faithful Texts? Religion in French and Francophone Literature from the 1780s to the 1980s, ed. by Paul Cooke and Jane Lee (New Orleans: UP of the South, 2000) 79–91. 9. Orr, “Stasis and Ecstasy: La tentation de saint Antoine or the Texte Bouleversant,” Forum for Modern Language Studies 34 (1998): 339. 10. I shall return to the concept of dualism or antithesis as it functions to establish the opposition between Antoine and his God. 11. Cf. “I see only one means of resolving the thorny question of the three versions. ...: I regard the three of them as the text of La tentation”—Jeanne Bem, Désir et savoir dans l’œuvre de Flaubert: Études de La tentation de saint Antoine (Neuchâtel: La baconnière, 1979) 17. The rule that Bem proposes for justifica- tion of her inclusive position—“Flaubert neither burned nor repudiated any of them” (18)—is not the generally accepted guide for establishing definitive texts. 12. Paul Valéry, “La tentation” 1.613, 619. As said before, Leal’s “Unity” 331–32 gives a good sampling of other adverse reactions. See, above, n1. 13. Laurence M. Porter, “A Fourth Version of Flaubert’s Tentation de saint Antoine (1869),” Nineteenth-Century French Studies 4 (1975–76): 53–66. In regard to comparisons of the three versions, see, e.g., Mazel, “Les trois tentations” 626– 43; Jacques Madeleine, “Les différents ‘états’ de la Tentation de saint Antoine,” Revue d’histoire littéraire de la France 15 (1908): 620–41; Jeanne Bem, Désir et savoir; and Gisèle Séginger, Naissance et métamorphoses. 14. Charles Baudelaire, “Théophile Gautier,” Œuvres complètes, Bibliothèque de la Pléiade (Paris: Gallimard, 1962) 691. Marshall C. Olds—Au pays des perro- quets: Féerie théâtrale et narration chez Flaubert (Amsterdam: Rodopi, 2001) 68–86—perspicaciously analyses the theatrical nature of the work. 15.AllreferencestothefinalversionofLa tentation and, except where other- wise indicated, to the manuscripts are to the Bardèche edition, referred to above in n1. The current reference is to 4.39. Though I concentrate here on the definitive version, I do not wish to imply that the early manuscripts lack importance, though I do find their most useful function to be an encourage- ment to see and attempt to understand the material changes the author effected in the definitive version. As just one example of the useful results of considering the various versions in detail, and indeed his other works, see Mary Nieland’s consideration of how the topoï of the banquet, the cityscape, the crowd, the seductive female, and the devil gain significance and dynamism across the Flaubertian oeuvre—Les tentations de saint Antoine and Flaubert’s Fiction: A Creative Dynamic (Amsterdam: Rodopi, 2001). 16. Jean Chevalier, Alain Gheerbrant, eds., Dictionnaire des symboles: Mythes, rêves, coutumes, gestes, formes, figures, couleurs, nombres (Paris: Robert Laffont, 1969) 165. NOTES TO PAGES 96–109 185

17. For La tentation, money and women are equated. See, e.g., his hallucination where, surrounded by gold, he looks at a pearl necklace: “With a jewel like that you could even win the wife of the Emperor” (4.51). 18.Forothersuggestionsastothe temptation (la tentation), see, e.g., Alfred Lombard, who sees the desire to dissolve himself in matter, to be matter as the “saint’s supreme temptation”—Flaubert et saint Antoine (Paris: Victor Attinger, 1934) 56; Sonnenfeld who conflates Antoine and Flaubert being led from an erotic fantasy “to nothingness, or to matter”—“La tentation” 326; Emily Zants, who considers it to be a desire to dominate others—“Flaubert’s Tentation, an Escape from Power Over Others,” French Review 52 (1979): 604– 10; Peter Starr, who sees it as “the temptation of confusion” as opposed to the “irrefutable” model of science—“Science and Confusion: On Flaubert’s Temp- tation,” Gustave Flaubert, ed. Harold Bloom (New York: Chelsea House, 1989) 200; Leal, who situates the temptation in Antoine’s attraction for the natural world that is “set against the temptation of a largely egocentric individualism which seeks a position of authority or ascendancy” (“Unity” 332). In Flaubert, Orr summarizes several other views (136n4) before suggesting that Antoine’s temptation is “the desire to impart, to be in partnership with a fellow creature, to join, to be in unity with another of like mind or spirit” (136–37). 19. Leal, “Unity” 335. See, also, Zants. 20. I could say “Spinoza’s idea,” since his influence is evident and has been widely studied, Cf., Albert Thibaudet, Gustave Flaubert (Paris: Gallimard, 1935) 166– 67, 172–73; Porter, “A Fourth Version” 65–66; Victor Brombert, The Novels of Flaubert, A Study of Themes and Techniques (Princeton: Princeton UP, 1966) 201–02; Andrew Brown, “ ‘Un assez vague Spinozisme,’ Flaubert and Spinoza,” Modern Language Review 91.4 (1996): 848–65; Timothy Unwin, “Flaubert and Pantheism,” French Studies 35 (1981): 394–406. Though the philosopher is important to Flaubert’s preparation for La tentation (see, e.g., “I am reviewing my Spinoza”—letter to George Sand of February 19, 1872) and, in particular, for part vi, I have made little of him, since it seems to me both that one need not refer to his ideas to explicate Flaubert’s novel and that an emphasis on Spinoza is ultimately confusing, since the conclusion of La tentation differs significantly from the philosopher’s thought. 21. Although I believe I am interpreting this passage correctly in the context of La tentation, my interpretation does not parallel Scripture: see, e.g., John 17.21: “That they all may be one; as thou, Father, art in me, and I in thee, that they also may be one in us.” 22. Kitty Mrosovsky, ed. and trans., “Introduction,” The Temptation of Saint Antony, by Gustave Flaubert (Ithaca: Cornell UP, 1981) 47. 23. E.g., Séginger, Naissance 380–81; Jean Seznec, Nouvelles études sur La tentation de saint Antoine (London: Warburg Institute, University of London, 1949) 80; Ginsburg, Writing 50–54. 24. J. E. Cirlot, A Dictionary of Symbols, trans. Jack Sage (New York: Philosophical Library, 1962) 227. 25. In his letter to Louise Colet of October 4, 1846, he wonders, for example, whether she has been nourished by the Bible. “For more than three years I read 186 NOTES TO PAGES 110–110

nothing but that in the evening before going to sleep. As soon as I’m free I’m going to start over again.” Several years later on December 28, 1853, in another letter to Colet, he expresses his palpable annoyance at “poor old Augier,” who takes pride in not having “stuck his nose in that book (speaking of the Bible).” 26. Antoine’s desire to be matter has been important to the confusion inspired by the ending. Edouard Maynial believes that the conclusion “seems tacked on, and has but little to do with what precedes”—Madame Bovary: Mœurs de province. Suivie des réquisitoire, plaidoirie, et jugement du procès intenté à l’auteur (Paris: Garnier, 1951) 312n553. Séginger considers Antoine’s adher- ence to matter a narcissistic commitment to the eternal transformation of forms and a refusal to conclude, thus leaving the conclusion ambiguous—Le mysticisme dans La tentation de saint Antoine: La relation sujet-objet, Archives des Lettres Modernes (Paris: Lettres Modernes, 1984) 63–68. Like Alfred Lombard, Flaubert et saint Antoine (Paris: Victor Attinger, 1934) 56, Marie J. Diamond finds “Antoine’s capitulation to the primacy of matter to be his ulti- mate temptation and his greatest error” (117). To support her position, she cites a manuscript note for an earlier version: “1. trailing past/2. whirlwind of action/Antoine/temptation—wants to be matter the devil/(carries him off)” (N.A.F. 23670, fol. 14)—quoted from Diamond, Problem of Aesthetic Disconti- nuity 117. If this desire signals his submission to the devil—Diamond 117–18; Charles Bernheimer “ ‘Être la matière!’: Origin and Difference in Flaubert’s La tentation de saint Antoine,” Novel 10.1 (1976): 65–78, 72; Brombert, The Novels of Flaubert 201–02—as was the case in the conclusions of the first two versions, there is no explanation for the terminal vision that, as Mary Orr argues convincingly (Writing the Masculine 138), rewards his submission. In the final version, there seems little question that Antoine’s “defeat” is in relation to God. He has rejected the devil, bowed his neck to God, and recommences his prayers. Flaubert reiterated as his work on the final version neared completion, “I am redoing the outline ... I hope to succeed in finding a logical connection (and hence dramatic interest) between the saint’s different hallucinations” (N.A.F. 23670, fol. 41v, quoted from Diamond 120; see n2, above). In the final version, Antoine’s entire situation has changed. Now, by wishing to be matter, Antoine embraces creation, God’s creation, and rejects the devil. 27. Leal mentions several critics (e.g., Lombard and Thibaudet) who consider this desire to be the greatest of Antoine’s temptations. As Leal recognizes, however, while Antoine was aware that the other temptations were in fact temptations, he does not see this as one, and, furthermore does not experience the guilt that accompanied the aftermath of other temptations (Leal, “Unity” 334). For Griffin, the entire conclusion “invites contemplation of the void” (“Transfiguration” 32). Jean-Pierre Richard would bundle such concluding passages with others, “Failure by engulfing (engloutissement) is the standard of all Flaubertian enterprises”—Stendhal et Flaubert, littérature et sensation (Paris: Seuil, 1954) 181. Seznec sees the saint as descending the scale of being: “He ends by dissolving his spirit in matter, and by bringing man back to prim- itive larva” (Nouvelles études 85). Henri Guillemin understands Antoine’s cry NOTES TO PAGES 110–117 187

in a slightly different way, not as a defeat but as a way of joining God by being absorbed into his creation, “He hands in his resignation. ...[the conclusion] would no longer be an escape ...but this other manner of attaining the absolute, which consists of melting into it”—Flaubert devant la vie et devant Dieu (Paris: Plon, 1939) 199–200. 28. Robert Grifﬁn, Rape of the Lock: Flaubert’s Mythic Realism (Lexington: French Forum, 1988) 287. 29. Tertullian, Apology: De spectaculis (A.D. 197; rpt. Cambridge: Harvard UP, 1931), paragraph 21, ll. 11–12. I use Everett Ferguson’s translation. 30. For Dumesnil and Descharmes it is a “a great metaphysical poem. ...a philosophical drama” (222). Mazel views it as an outstanding philosophic work (643). Lombard considers the philosophical and, in particular, the Spinozan ideas as an unavoidable problem for Flaubert (56). Taine terms La tentation “the fourth century seen through the mind of an aesthete ...[and] theologian” that exploits “the theological dreams and constructions’ of the day” (Letter of April 1, 1874, to Flaubert). 31. Allan H. Pasco, “Ironic Interference and Allusion: ‘Un cœur simple,’” Allusion: A Literary Graft (Toronto: U of Toronto P, 1994) 22–38. 32. The relationship between the linear (word) and visual (image) arts has been studied with considerable perspicacity, though from different points of view, by Mary Ann Caws, The Eye in the Text: Essays on Perception, Mannerist to Mod- ern (Princeton: Princeton UP, 1981); Henry Majewski, Transposing Art into TextsinFrenchRomanticLiterature,North Carolina Studies in the Romance Languages and Literatures (Chapel Hill: U of North Carolina P, 2002); William J. Berg, Imagery and Ideology: Fiction and Painting in Nineteenth-Century France (Newark: U of Delaware P, 2007). I differ basically in that I do not believe that the mind necessarily “thinks” in either words or images but in more diffuse sensations. Consequently, painting is no more immediate than prose. The mind translates both varieties of visual stimulation, whether visual print or visual image, into those sensations that make up the complex of sensations that psychologists call an image, which then must be translated into meaning.

Chapter 5

1. Melvin Maddocks, “Marcel Proust: Witness to a Dissolving Dream,” The Christian Science Monitor, July 10, 1971, 9. More recent approaches consider this fragmentation in a more positive vein, while insisting nonetheless on the novel’s lack of coherence. Richard Terdiman mentions, for example, “the extraordinarily low degree of contingence between events and existences”— The Dialectics of Isolation: Self and Society in the French Novel from the Realists to Proust (New Haven: Yale UP, 1976) 106. See, also, Margaret E. Gray, Postmodern Proust (Philadelphia: U of Pennsylvania P, 1992). For Antoine Compagnon, it is “the novel of the in-between”—Proust entre deux siècles (Paris: Seuil, 1989) 9. Christie McDonald suggests that Proust was 188 NOTES TO PAGES 118–121

committed to an unfinished novel—The Proustian Fabric: Associations of Mem- ory (Lincoln: U of Nebraska P, 1992) 82–83 and chapter 6. Although she perhaps attaches more importance than one should to the deletions in the “short version” of Albertine disparue in: À la recherche du temps perdu. Albertine disparue/Marcel Proust; Edition originale de la dernière version revue par l’auteur (Paris: Grasset, 1987), ed. Nathalie Mauriac and Etienne Wolff (Paris: Grasset, 1987), the heavily edited edition does not affect my argument. Proust’s “fragmentation” and “digressions” were designed to highlight images that are then available for readers to form a radically new structure of associa- tive or analogical chains keyed by their own involuntary memory. See, Anne Chevalier’s discussion of the Mauriac ms. in Marcel Proust, À la recherche du temps perdu, ed. Jean-Yves Tadié, 4 vols., Bibliothèque de la Pléiade (Paris: Gallimard, 1987–89) 4.1028–43. References to this edition will be cited parenthetically with volume and page, while other editions will be preceded by the primary editor’s name, whether Milly, À la recherche du temps perdu, ed. Jean Milly, 10 vols. (Paris: Garnier-Flammarion, 1984–87), or Clarac, À la recherche du temps perdu, ed. Pierre Clarac and André Ferré, 3 vols., Bibliothèque de la Pléiade (Paris: Gallimard, 1954). 2. Correspondance générale, vol. 3 (Paris: Plon, 1932) 306. Similar statements are to be found in À la recherché 2.397; 3.899. 3. Howard Moss, The Magic Lantern of Marcel Proust (New York: Macmillan, 1962) 2. 4. Jean Rousset, Forme et signification: Essais sur les structures littéraires de Corneille à Claudel (Paris: Corti, 1962) 166. 5. Gaëtan Picon, Lecture de Proust (Paris: Mercure de France, 1963) 9–10. Vincent Descombes, Proust: Philosophie du roman (Paris: Minuit, 1987), offers a particularly insightful consideration of À la recherche as a traditional, though sophisticated, novel that “projects” the protagonist’s subjective reality into an objective work of art. 6. For a more complete explanation of what Proust is doing here, see my The Color-Keys to À la recherche du temps perdu (Geneva: Droz, 1976) 5–6. For a subtle and insightful analysis of Proust’s style that includes allegory, image, metaphor, and the “ecstatic experiences” that stylistically link “metaphor, ecstasy, and time” across À la recherche, see, Beryl Schlossman, The Orient of Style: Modernist Allegories of Conversion (Durham: Duke UP, 1991) 178–260. 7. Bersani, Marcel Proust: The Fictions of Life and of Art (New York: Oxford UP, 1965) 212. 8. Fisher, Le symbole littéraire: Essai sur la signification du symbole chez Wagner, Baudelaire, Mallarmé, Bergson et Marcel Proust (Paris: Corti, 1941) 169. 9. Revel, Sur Proust: Remarques sur A la recherche du temps perdu, Bibliothèque Médiations (Paris: Denoël-Gonthier, 1970) 33. 10. Believing that the novel as published included large quantities of extraneous material, Albert Feuillerat attempted to reconstruct what he considered an “original” version, lacking the apparent irrelevancies—Comment Marcel Proust a composé son roman (New Haven: Yale UP, 1934), an attempt that NOTES TO PAGES 122–126 189

Jean-Yves Tadié has discussed in his Lectures de Proust (Paris: Armand Colin, 1971) 211–15. Robert Vigneron likewise writes of the “compromised” order of the published text—“Structure de Swann: Combray ou le cercle parfait,” Modern Philology 45 (1948): 190—and Henri Peyre claims that the Àla recherche we know is “liberally encumbered with digressions and extraneous accretions”—French Novelists of Today (New York: Oxford UP, 1967) 76. For Richard Goodkin, “it became a novel of endless digression, when it lost its way and started to indulge in lengthy developments”—Around Proust (Princeton: Princeton UP, 1991) 6. 11. Letter 161, July 22, 1922, in Marcel Proust et Jacques Rivière: Correspondance: 1914–1922, ed. Philip Kolb (Paris: Plon, 1955) 265. 12. Marcel Proust, “Journées de lecture” (1905), rpt. in Contre Saint-Beuve; Précédé de Pastiches et mélanges;EtsuivideEssais et articles, ed. Pierre Clarac and Yves Sandre, Bibliothèque de la Pléiade (Paris: Gallimard, 1971) 178. Sub- sequent references to materials published in this edition will be preceded by CSB. 13. I have discussed this character and her ramiﬁcations in: “Albertine’s Equivocal Eyes,” Australian Journal of French Studies 5 (1968): 257–62. 14. Revel, Sur Proust 34. J. Vendryes took a similar position some time ago: “Marcel Proust et les noms propres” (1940), Choix d’études linguistiques et celtiques (Paris: Klincksieck, 1952) 85. 15. See chapter 10 of my previously cited The Color-Keys. For “Verdurin,” see also, Gérard Genette, who has suggested “via Duras”—“Proust et le langage indirect,” Figures II (Paris: Seuil, 1969) 243. 16. See, J. Wayne Conner, “On Balzac’s Goriot,” Symposium 8 (1954): 70. 17. William C. Carter recently indicated that the tripartite structure may remain in certain imagery: “Taking into account Proust’s cosmological outlook and the abundant vertical and planetary imagery in the last section, it is probable that he envisaged three states for the evolution and progress of the Narrator’s quest: land (Combray), sea (Balbec), and air (the artist ascends to his native region)”—Proustian Quest 204. 18. The “Age of Names” shows up occasionally in the secondary literature— Genette, for example, decided to title his republication of a portion of “Proust et le langage indirect,” as “L’âge des noms”—Mimologiques (Paris: Seuil, 1976) 315–28; and Elyane Dezon-Jones suggests in her “Introduction” to Le côté de Guermantes in the Milly edition that the volume constitutes a transition between the “Age of Names” and the “Age of Words” (4.8–9). Here I want to build on these insights to emphasize the importance of the paradigmatic, three ages to À la recherche as a whole and, especially, of the function of the Age of Names. This despite Compagnon’s belief that the etymologies of Sodome et Gomorrhe serve both to mark the protagonist’s disappointment and to retard it, thus troubling “the beautiful symmetry of ‘The Age of Names’ and ‘The Age of Things’ ” (243, 254–56). 19. Jean-Jacques Nattiez, Proust as Musicien, trans. Derrick Puffett, rev. ed. (Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 1989) 36. 190 NOTES TO PAGES 127–128

20. Brian G. Rogers discusses this unquestionably important aspect of Proust’s work in, The Narrative Techniques of À la recherche du temps perdu (Paris: Champion, 2004), esp. 111–20. See, also, Nathalie Mauriac Dyer’s Proust inachevé: Le dossier Albertine disparue (Paris: Honoré Champion, 2005), which makes a strong argument for À la recherche as a binary system and thus brings additional support to Maurice Bardèche’s interpretation, in Marcel Proust romancier (Paris: Les Sept Couleurs, 1971). 21. See, e.g, Michel Raimond, “Note sur la structure du Côté de Guermantes,” Revue d’histoire littéraire 71 (1971): 854–74; Gérard Genette, Mimologiques 315–28; Jean-Yves Tadié, Proust et le roman (Paris: Gallimard, 1971); Roger Shattuck, Proust’s Binoculars: A Study of Memory, Time and Recognition in Àla recherche du temps perdu (New York: Random House, 1963); and his Marcel Proust (New York: Viking, 1974) 25–55. 22. E.g., Ullmann; Grossvogel 196–200; Genette, “Langage indirect” 238– 39; Tadié, Roman; Milly, Phrase; Shattuck Binoculars; Claudine Quémar, “Rêverie(s) onomastique(s) proustienne(s) à la lumière des avant-textes,” Littérature 28 (1977): 77–99; Serge Doubrovsky, La place de la Madeleine: Écri- ture et fantasme chez Proust (Paris: Mercure de France, 1974); Jean Ricardou, “ ‘Miracles’ de l’analogie: Aspects proustiens de la métaphore productrice,” Études Proustiennes 2, Cahiers Marcel Proust 7 (Paris: Gallimard, 1975) 11–39; Michel Raimond, “Note sur la structure du Côté de Guermantes” 854–74; Tom Conley, “The Improper Name,” Reading Proust Now, ed. Mary Ann Caws and Eugène Nicole (New York: Peter Lang, 1990) 121–36. 23. Roland Barthes, “Proust et les noms,” To Honor Roman Jakobson: Essays on the Occasion of His Seventieth Birthday: 11 October 1966, Janua Linguarum 31.1 (1967): 152–56. See, also, Lelong, and Nicole 464–65. It is nonetheless true that Proust’s onomastic interests began early. See, Thanh-Vân Ton-That, “Problèmes d’onomastique proustienne: rêverie et poésie autour du nom dans Jean Santeuil,” Cahiers de lexicologie 67.2 (1995): 193–205. Compagnon is probably correct to claim that in the creation of the name Brichot, the phonic pairing of br and cr are more important than the possible model, Victor Brochard (132–34). Certainly, as Plottel says, his etymologies indicate that Proust “selected the names of his book very carefully” (65). I would not go so far as Quémar, who suggests that Barthes and Genette were caught in the “piège” (trap) of accepting a textual device for unconscious associations (80–81). Nor would I join with Alain Roger who advances one of the more extreme interpretations when he not only associates certain phonemes with meanings (generally sexual) but goes on to conclude that “Proust’s onomastics never gets beyond the puerile, if not pathological, level of simple psittacism or echolalia”—Proust: Les plaisirs et les noms (Paris: Denoël, 1985) 118. 24. Doubrovsky, Place de la madeleine 56–58; Philippe Lejeune, Pacte autobi- ographique (Paris: Seuil, 1979) 29; and Gérard Genette, Palimpsestes: la litté- rature au second degré (Paris: Seuil, 1982) 293; Seuils (1987; Paris: Seuil, 2002) 209–10—though Genette later changes his mind in Fiction et diction (Paris: Seuil, 1991) 36–37—not to mention the Feuillerats and the Vignerons of NOTES TO PAGES 130–132 191

another day, all insist that À la recherche is, or almost is, an autobiography. Dorrit Cohn disagrees, indicating that though Proust brushed up against autobiography, À la recherche is not autobiography—The Distinction of Fic- tion (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins UP, 1998) 58–78. She expands: “Granting that Proust enters into no binding pact concerning the generic status of the Recherche, that contractually his work remains ambiguous; granting as well that other criteria (of content and narrative mode) incontestably signal its novelistic status—how can we explain the inhibition on the part of critics to read Proust’s masterwork ‘simply’ as a novel?” (77). I might add that with the excep- tion of discredited biographies like that of George D. Painter, who took large handfuls of “biographical” material from À la recherche, and critics like Paul de Man, Roland Barthes, and a few others, who have been limited by their post- structuralist optic, the vast majority of critics from Martin-Chauffier on have had no trouble reading the novel as a fiction, however much the author may have exploited his own, personal experiences. 25. Goodkin, Around Proust 80. In grappling with Albertine’s sexual proclivi- ties, whether they were transformed, male homosexuals, as Justin O’Brien believed—“Albertine the Ambiguous: Notes on Proust’s Transposition of Sexes,” PMLA 64 (1949): 933–52—or true lesbians, it is important to recog- nize that Albertine represents the unknown and unknowable facet of external reality. Elisabeth Ladenson, Proust’s Lesbianism (Ithaca: Cornell UP, 1999), discusses the issue of homosexuality. 26. See, e.g., the version of the Chevalier au Cygne (Paris: A. Aubry, 1874) published by Célestin Hippeau in 1874 and studied by Harry Alfred Todd, PMLA 4.3–4 (1889): viii–ix. Claude Vallée’s La féerie de Marcel Proust (Paris: Fasquelle, 1958) proposes that Élstir recalls “Eblis, the grand Master of the demons in Oriental tales” (353), but because the allusion has none of the supporting markers in a complete system centered on the grail legends that demand linking Élstir to Élie, it seems far-fetched. 27. Spitzer, Études de style (Paris: Gallimard, 1970) 443; Milly, La phrase de Proust (Paris: Champion, 1983) 92n44. 28. Deleuze, Proust et les signes (Paris: P.U.F., 1970) 131. 29. E.g., 1.103–05, 144. Milly’s edition (1.594–95, n. 109) and Nathan (17 and passim) trace the priest’s etymologies to Jules Quicherat’s De la formation française des anciens noms de lieux (1867), though Graham argues that Auguste Longnon constitutes Proust’s principal source (“Etymologies”). Compagnon disagrees with Graham, arguing indeed that for most of the etymologies Longnon is an unlikely source (231n2; 245–55). 30. Also under the influence of Saint-Hilaire, Balzac continues, claiming, “There is only one animal. The creator only used one single pattern for all organized beings. Animals only have a single principle, or, to speak more exactly, the differences of their forms are determined by the milieus where they ...develop”—“Avant-propos,” La comédie humaine, 12 vols., Bibliothèque de la Pléiade, ed. Pierre-Georges Castex (Paris: Gallimard 1976–81) 1.8. Proust, of course knew Balzac’s work well. 192 NOTES TO PAGES 133–135

31. Victor E. Graham, “Proust’s Etymologies,” French Studies 29 (1975): 307– 12; “Water Imagery and Symbolism in Proust,” Romanic Review 50 (1959): 126–27. 32. Vallée, La féerie; Jan Hokenson, “Proust in the Palace of Sheriar,” Far-Western Forum 1 (May 1974): 187–98; and Dominique Jullien, Proust et ses modèles: Les Mille et une nuits et les Mémoires de Saint-Simon (Paris: José Corti, 1989). 33. Dorothy Kelly, “Seeing Albertine Seeing: Barbey and Proust through Balzac,” Studies in Twentieth-Century Literature 14.2 (1990): 139–57; Brian G. Rogers, Proust et Barbey d’Aurevilly: Le dessous des cartes (Paris: H. Champion, 2000). 34. Jean-Jacques Nattiez points to the similarity of Guermantes and Gurnemanz— “Le septuor de Wagner,” Magazine littéraire 210 (September 1984): 48. Proust chose the name Guermantes “around the month of May 1909,” according to Philip Kolb—Carnet de 1908, Cahiers Marcel Proust, Nouv. sér. 8 (Paris: Gallimard, 1976) 141n61; 185n. 392. Anthony R. Pugh believed, however, that the leaf of this notebook where the Guermantes name first appears in the manuscripts (N.A.F. 16637, fol. 35) was written in April of 1909—The Birth of À la recherche du temps perdu (Lexington: French Forum, 1987) 64. On May 23, 1909, Proust asked Georges de Lauris, whether the Guermantes name was free for artistic use—Correspondance 9.102. More than a decade later, in a 1922 letter to Martin-Chauffier, he asked about its etymology—see, Kolb, Review of The Imagery of Proust, by Victor E. Graham, Modern Language Quarterly 29 (1968): 119. Of course, Proust was perfectly capable of sketching out these etymologies, which may have influenced his choice of imagery around the name, as Graham suggests, and moreover his choice of the name itself. We cannot be certain, though it seems very likely. 35. Florence Hier, La musique dans l’œuvre de Marcel Proust (New York: Columbia UP, 1933) 45; Georges Piroué, Proust et la musique du devenir (Paris: Denouël, 1960) 107–08. Nattiez argues convincingly that “[l]ike Parsifal, À la recherche is a work whose hero is on a quest for redemption” (“Septuor” 32). Danièle Gasiglia-Laster goes into some detail in respect to the parallels between Wagner’s “filles-fleurs” (flowering girls) and those of Proust (in the Milly edition—2.40–41). Margaret Mein argues that Proust thought at one point of insisting on the parallels between the redemption of Amfortas, the Fisher King, and Swann in Le temps retrouvé—“Proust and Wagner,” Journal of European Studies 19 (1989): 205–22. Rina Viers says twice, “The Narrator is identified with Parsifal”—“La signification des fleurs dans l’œuvre de Marcel Proust,” Bulletin de la société des amis de Marcel Proust et des amis de Combray 25 (1975): 158–59. Jean-Marc Rodrigues shows conclusively that Proust’s love of Wagner must be distinguished from the shallow fin-de-siècle Wagnerism—“Genèse du wagnerisme proustien,” Romantisme 17.57 (1987): 75–88. Of Proust’s many epistolary references to Wagner, the following seems particularly telling: “The more Wagner is legendary, the more I find him human. His most splendid artifices of the imagination seem to me nothing but the symbolic and grip- ping language of human truths”—Letter 239 to Reynaldo Hahn, May? 1895, Correspondance, ed. Philip Kolb, 21 vols. (Paris: Plon, 1970–93) 1.383. NOTES TO PAGES 135–140 193

36. N.A.F. 16697, fol. 13; quoted from Henri Bonnet and Bernard Brun, ed., Matinée chez la princesse de Guermantes: Cahiers du Temps retrouvé (Par is: Gallimard, 1982) 318. 37. Per Nykrog appended, as an “Epilogue” to his Recherche du don perdu 84–88, a summary of Chrétien’s uncompleted version of the Conte du Graal. He makes no comment on parallels with À la recherche, and he draws no conclusions— La recherche du don perdu: Points de repère dans le roman de Marcel Proust, Harvard Studies in Romance Languages 42 (Cambridge: Dept. of Romance Languages, Harvard U, 1987). Matoré and Mecz link Perceval’s failure to ask the appropriate questions of Swann, “forgetting” to ask Vinteuil whether the creator of the sonata was related to him—Georges Matoré and Irène Mecz, Musique et structure romanesque dans La recherche du temps perdu (Paris: Klincksieck, 1973) 97–98. Furthermore, as Marie Miguet-Ollagnier points out, like Perceval, the protagonist abandons his mother—La mythologie de Marcel Proust, Annales littéraires de l’université de Besançon, no. 276 (Paris: Belles- Lettres, 1982) 139—though the latter’s betrayal is submerged and diffused across several thousand pages. 38. Marcel Muller believes that “[T]he anonymity of this fisherman may be taken as symbolical of the unknowable quality of all Proustian characters’—Les voix narratives dans la Recherche du temps perdu (Geneva: Droz, 1965) 56. 39. The manuscripts make it clear that the author revised his text to obscure the stranger’s identity. An early version indicates that the fisherman might have been a friend of Mme Putbus’s maid (N.A.F. 16675, fols. 4r–5r). By deleting any indication of recognition, Proust emphasized the strange fact that the boy did not ask the expected question. 40. As H. L. and Friedrick Corder put it in their translation of Wagner’s Parsifal, AFestival-Drama(Boston: Oliver Ditson, 1903) 31. 41. Anna Louise Frey, The Swan-Knight Legend (Nashville: George Peabody College, 1931) 5–6. Proust explicitly mentions Gurnemantz, Parsifal, and Wagner in his letter of 6 February 1914 to Jacques Rivière, and elsewhere. He unquestionably knew the legend well. 42. Vallée 353; Jullien 79, 81–82. Watkins suggests that Wagner is but a part of a pattern of allusions to Courtois literature. Anne Herschberg-Pierrot discusses a number of possible sources, including stained glass windows—“Proust et le légendaire dans Swann,” Autour du roman: Études présentées à Nicole Cazauran (Paris: P de l’École Normale Supérieure, 1990) 199–210. 43. Will L. McLendon, “Lettre de Marcel Proust à Léon Bailby,” Bulletin de la société desamisdeMarcelProust21 (1971): 1124n5. 44. Per Nykrog compares the “wine” (vin) of Vinteuil and the Septet that grew from his suffering to the wine of the Eucharist and Christ’s blood sacrifice—La recherche du don perdu 60. One of Proust’s variant spellings for Vinteuil was “Vindeuil” (Nicole, “Genèses” 80, n. 3). 45. 4.45–46; Frey refers to several versions, including Wagner’s Lohengrin, where the Swan Knight leaves the ring—13, 49, 55, 76, 116. Albertine’s rings may indicate that she was having an affair with one of the Swan Knight’s 194 NOTES TO PAGES 141–145

descendants, since the rings, which are inscribed with what Françoise makes out as an eagle (or could it be a swan?), were perhaps given to her by her lover. 46. Revel, Sur Proust 199. Such early critics as Paul Souday would share Revel’s opinion: “It seems to us that the thick volume by M. Marcel Proust is not composed and that it is as excessively long as it is chaotic, but that it encloses some precious pieces with which the author could have formed an exquisite little book,” and “Certain murky episodes do not have the excuse of being necessary”—Marcel Proust (Paris: Kra, 1927) 11 and 13 respectively. 47. E.g., Rousset, Forme et signification 135–70; Louis Bolle, Marcel Proust ou le complexe d’Argus (Paris: Bernard Grasset, 1967) 216–42; Raimond, “Note sur la structure du Côté de Guermantes” 854–74; Tadié, Roman, esp. 236–92; Gérard Genette, “Métonymie chez Proust, ou la naissance du récit,” Poétique 2 (1970): 156–73; Jean Ricardou, “ ‘Miracles’ de l’analogie.” 48. Fasquelle’s reader who was largely responsible for the publisher’s rejection of Du côté de chez Swann, provides a good example: Jacques Madeleine [pseud. for Jacques Normand], “Lecteur chez Fasquelle, n’aimant pas À la recherche du temps perdu ... Il fut le Madeleine de Proust,” published by Henri Bonnet in, Le figaro littéraire 1077 (8 déc. 1966): 15; republished by Franck Lhomeau and Alain Coelho, Marcel Proust à la recherche d’un éditeur: Face à l’édition (Paris: Olivier Orban, 1988) 255–62, discussed by Lhomeau and Coelho 92–97. 49. See the excellent development on an author’s necessary creation of his or her reader: Warren Motte, Fiction Now: The French Novel in the Twenty-First Cen- tury (Champaign: Dalkey Archive, 2008) 17–37. While it is to some degree always true, it is especially important in some novels, when the reader must become the artist in order to create the work. 50. Godenne, “La bibliothèque de l’homme de l’an 2440 selon L. S. Mercier,” French Review 45 (1972): 579. 51. Ricardou, Problèmes du nouveau roman (Paris: Seuil, 1967) 178. Pascal Ifri, who focuses specifically on À la recherche and, in particular, on the narrataire or narratee (the textual character or consciousness whom a narrator addresses), says, “The narratee gives the narrator’s enterprise the entirety of its meaning”—Proust et son narrataire dans À la recherche du temps perdu (Geneva: Droz, 1983) 200. Gerda Blumenthal has perceptively considered the Proustian permutations of reading: Thresholds: A Study of Proust (Birmingham: Summa, 1984). 52. 3.762. See, also, 3.149–51, 463–64, 468–69. I have already referred to a particularly vivid example of this reality that occurs in Combray. The boy is walking joyously when, overwhelmed by the pale reflection of pink tile on the water in a pond, he cries out, waving his closed umbrella, “ ‘My, my, my, my [Zut, zut, zut, zut].’ But at the same time I felt that my duty would have been not to stop with these opaque words and to try to see more clearly in my delight” (1.153). He does not yet understand the inability of language to translate such emo- tion simply and exactly. Even if I were at the same place and time, my delight would be slightly and perhaps very different from his, though Proust strives NOTES TO PAGES 145–154 195

to succeed in such communication with thousands of words and an arsenal of artistic devices. 53. The above quotations are to be found in the French National Library: Nouvelles acquisitions françaises, ms., respectively, 16648, fol. 52v; ms. 16652, fol. 100v, ms. 16694, fol. 46v; ms. 16693, fols. 13v and 18v; ms. 16683, fol. 58v; ms. 16668, fol. 16v.29. 54. N.A.F. 16648, fol. 52v; À la recherche 1.48–50, 118–19. This and the following examples should be read in the light of Brian G. Rogers’s discussion of the poetic passages that are found along the protagonist’s way—Narrative Techniques, e.g., 56–65. 55. Poe, “The Philosophy of Composition,” The Works of Edgar Allan Poe (London: J. C. Hotten, 1872), p. 662. 56. See, Shattuck’s discussion of the importance of “forgetting”: Proust’s Binoculars 65–68. Howard Nemerov also considers what interests me here: the “causes that grow subterraneously, invisibly, until at last they erupt through the surface and begin to bloom as determinate effects”—The Oak in the Acorn: On Remembrance of Things Past and on Teaching Proust, Who Will Never Learn (Baton Rouge: Louisiana State UP, 1987) 44. 57. Any time a work of art can no longer provoke discovery, that is, when it has been thoroughly analyzed or “masticated,” it “dies.” The narrator remembers that Albertine “guessed at the third or fourth execution [of a musical work] that my intelligence having reached all the parts, having consequently put them at the same distance, and no longer having any activity to exert for them, had reciprocally extended and immobilized them on a uniform plane.” Of course, “at the moment when my intelligence had succeeded in dissipating the mystery of a work, it was very rare that it did not, in the course of its destructive task, pick up some profitable reflection by compensation” (3.874). 58. Cocteau, Journal d’un inconnu (Paris: Grasset, 1953) 153. 59. Louis Martin-Chauffier, “Proust et le double ‘je’ de quatre personnes,” Problèmes du roman, ed. Jean Prévost (rpt. Lyon: Confluences, 1943) 60. 60. Suzuki, Bulletin de la société des amis de Marcel Proust et des amis de Combray 9 (1959): esp. 80–82. 61. Many passages across À la recherche indicate the importance of universals: e.g., 1.216–17; 4.473–74, 479, 483, 484, 485–86. Gilles Deleuze, in the material added to the second edition of his provocative Proust et les signes (Paris: P.U.F., 1970), would agree that despite the fragmentation of Proust’s world, it can communicate, though he would nonetheless deny the degree to which this communication may exceed the simple effect of involuntary memory to the exact, detailed image of the whole, of the author’s self, and of the reader’s essence. 62. Mukarovsky, Aesthetic Function, Norm and Value as Social Facts, trans. Mark Suino, Michigan Slavic Contributions, no. 3 (Ann Arbor: Department of Slavic Languages, University of Michigan, 1970) 91–92. 63. I refer to the much abbreviated, late manuscripts edited by Nathalie Mauriac Dyer and Etienne Wolfe and mentioned above, n1. 196 NOTES TO PAGES 155–161

Chapter 6

1. See my Novel Conﬁgurations: A Study of French Fiction—Stendhal, Balzac, Zola, Gide, Huysmans, Proust, Robbe-Grillet, and Others, 2nd ed. (Birmingham, AL: Summa Publications, 1994) 99–122. 2. Pasco, Allusion: A Literary Graft (1994; rpt. Charlottesville: Rookwood P, 2002) 111–20. 3. Pasco, Balzacian Montage: Conﬁguring La Comédie humaine (Toronto: U of Toronto P, 1991), for Le Père Goriot, 22–35, though there are other structurally similar examples. 4. André Gide, Journal 1889–1939, Bibliothèque de la Pléiade (Paris: Gallimard, 1951) (June 17, 1923) 760. 5. Alain Robbe-Grillet, Pour un nouveau roman, Collection Idées (Paris: Gallimard, 1963) 37. 6. Jean-Louis Hippolyte, Fuzzy Fiction (Lincoln: U of Nebraska P, 2006) 216. 7. Robert Pinget, “Comment travaillent les écrivains” (Interview with Jean-Louis Rambures), Le Monde 8677 (December 7, 1972): 32. See, also, Pinget’s “Préface,” Le libera: Roman (Paris: Minuit, 1968) 6. Index

Note: Locators followed by “n” represent note numbers.

Achard, Amédée, 134 image structure and, 17, 159 action, 8, 10 involuntary memory and, 121, thought vs., 28, 43, 83–5 143–4, 147, 149, 151, 153–4, Actuelles II (Camus), 44 162, 188n1, 195n61 Adventures in the Skin Trade, and Other length and, 18–20, 30–2, 147 Stories (Thomas), 23 lenses and, 134–41 Airport (Hailey), 20 moments bienheureux in, 19, 120–1, À la recherche du temps perdu (Proust), 123, 140, 143, 148, 149, 153, 154, xi, 7, 19, 38, 117–54, 187–94nn 162, 170n37 Age of Names, 127–32, 134, 140, music and, 121–2, 126–7, 151, 189n18 192n35 Age of Things, 127, 141, 189n18 names and, 127–34, 161, 190n23, Age of Words, 127, 131, 140–1, 192n34 189n18 negative structure and, 31, 118–19, Albertine disparue, 188n1 162 À l’ombre des jeunes filles en fleurs, Noms de pays: Le nom, 117–18, 126 127, 138, 139 “Noms de pays: le pays,” 126 Un amour de Swann, 36, 61, 117–19, onomastics and, 127–8, 134–5, 140, 141, 157 190n23 analogies and, 141–2 paronomasia and, 132, 133, 135, art and life in, 122–3, 145, 150–2 140 breaks or ruptures and, 37–8, 117–20 pedagogical imperative of, 142–3 coherence and unity of, 38, 152–4 proposed titles for, 126 colors and, 64, 125–6, 148–9 reader and reading and, 124, 128–9, Combray, 61, 117, 127, 141, 148, 137–8, 142–54 194–5n52 Sodome et Gomorrhe, 189n18 Le côté de Guermantes, 189n18 Le temps retrouvé, 25, 118, 132, 135, Du côté de chez Swann, 117, 126–7, 137, 138, 161, 192n35 141, 158, 194n48 Albanese, Ralph, 181n29 education and, 122–3, 142–3 alchemy, 69, 75 “I,” protagonist’s and reader’s, 119, Alcoforado, Maria, 24 121, 124, 149–51, 157–8 Alcott, Louisa May, 18 198 INDEX allusion, 22, 26, 30, 87, 161, 164 artificiality, 1, 6, 77, 155, 167n17, Barbey and, 53, 55, 176n29 182n35 Camus and, 44, 48 “artiste et son temps, L’ ” (Camus), 43 Proust and, 25, 130, 134–40, 148, artistic design, 26–9, 159 191n26, 193n42 asceticism, 101 Zola and, 30, 64–5 assommoir, L’ (Zola), 80 Alter, Jean, 166n10 asyndeton, xi, 66, 117, 119–20, 154 Amadis de Gaule, 135 see also breaks Amphritryon, 55 Athanasius, 94–6, 98, 113 amplification, 18, 20–2 Au bonheur des dames (Zola), 20, 156 an, Un (Echenoz), 10 Augustine, Saint, 101 anacoluthon, 154, 157 À vau-l’eau (Huysmans), 84–5 analogy or analogical chain, 87–8, 164 aventures de Télémaque, Les (Fénelon), Huysmans and, 68–9, 83–4 132 Proust and, 121, 141–2, 149, 150, Awakening, The (Chopin), 22 152–3 années de voyage de Wilhelm Meister, Bachelard, Gaston, 72–4, 181n24 Les (Goethe), 134–5 Bakhtin, Mikhail M., 4, 169n32 Anthony, St. (Antoine), 92, 93, 98 Baldi, Maria Rosa, 35, 41, 173n3 see also tentation de saint Antoine, La Balzac, Honoré de, xi, 4, 5, 17, 24, 25, antithesis, 35, 50, 68, 91, 92, 107, 112, 33, 64, 84, 88, 142, 157, 112–13, 184n10 120, 126, 132, 149, 158, 159, Anxiety of Influence, The (Bloom), 7 191n30 “Anywhere Out of the World” Barbey d’Aurevilly, Jules-Amédée, xi, (Baudelaire), 72 36–7, 50–9, 80–1, 88, 119, 134, Apology (Tertullian), 110–11 176n29 Arabian Nights, 37, 134 Bardèche, Maurice, 182n1, 190n20 Àrebours(Huysmans), xi, 7, 22, 65–86, Barth, John, 4 88, 161, 162, 178–9nn Barthes, Roland, 127, 128, 190n23, analogy and, 68, 83–4 191n24 books and reading and, 72, 80–2, 86 Barzun, Jacques, 4 coherence and unity and, 9, 86, 88 Baudelaire, Charles, x, 17, 36, 72, 80, colors in, 71–2 82, 93–4, 156, 163 Condillac and, 72–3 Beckett, Samuel, 2 house in, 70–2 Bel ami (Maupassant), x, 37 innovation and, 68–9 Bem, Jeanne, 184n11 music and, 82 Berg, William J., 67, 187n32 negative structure and, 65–8, 72–84, Bernheimer, Charles, 65 162 Beroalde de Verville, 37 poetic devices and, 84 Bersani, Leo, 120 spiritual naturalism and, 85–6 Berthier, Philippe, 52, 54, 178n44 symbolism and, 66–70, 74–9, 83, Bible, 24, 34, 44, 48, 56, 69, 94–6, 98–9, 85–8 109, 140, 161, 185–6n25 touch and, 72–4 Bildungsroman, 118 Aristotle, 5, 10, 11, 53, 87, 170n36 binary composition, 127, 190n20 INDEX 199

Blanchot, Maurice, 3, 26 Cabbala, 69 Bloom, Harold, 7, 167n17 Camus, Albert, xi, 26, 30, 35–49, 50, Bloy, Léon, 80 60, 87, 157, 173–6nn Blumenthal, Gerda, 194n51 Canterbury Tales (Chaucer), 34, 37 Boccaccio, Giovanni, 13 Cardin, Dominique, 91 Boileau, Nicolas, 123 “Carmen” (short story), 16 Bolle, Louis, 152 Carter, William C., 189n17 Bonnes, Jean-Paul, 177n35 Catharina, Pedro Paulo, 179n7 Borel, Pétrus, 55 cathédrale, La (Huysmans), 18, 83, 160 Borges, Jorge Luis, 2 Catholicism, 39, 53, 56, 60, 81, 93 Bornecque, Jacques-Henry, 52 causality, ix, 1, 8, 17, 25, 37, 64, 157, Bossuet, Jacques-Bénigne, 80 159 Bouilhet, Louis, 92, 183n3 Huysmans and, 74 Bourdaloue, Louis, 80 Proust and, 117, 141, 146 bourgeois gentilhomme, Le (Molière), 22 short story cycle vs. novel and, Brady, Patrick, 177n36 119–20 breaks (disarticulation, fragmentation, Cervantes, 7 ruptures), xi, 9–10, 21, 157–8, Cevasco, C.A., 66 160–1 Chaeras and Callirhoe (Chariton), 37 Barbey and, 51 chaos, 9, 151, 160 Flaubert and, 92, 93, 97, 103, 108, character, 3–5, 7–8, 67, 158, 160 111, 113 artistic design and, 27 Huysmans and, 67, 162, 178–9n5 Camus and, 35, 36, 47 Proust and, 36–8, 117–20, 123, 146, frame tales and, 34 161–2, 187–8n1, 195n61 Proust and, 119, 124–5 short story cycle vs. novel and, 36–7, short story cycle vs. novel and, 50, 156–8 156 see also anacoluthon; asyndeton; Chariton, 37 parataxis Chartreuse de Parme, La (Stendhal), 17, Brecht, Bertolt, xi, 3 129 Bremond, Claude, ix, 64 Chaucer, Geoffrey, 34, 37 Bresdin, Rodolphe, 76 chef d’œuvre inconnu, Le (Balzac), 113 Breton, André, 87 Chekhov, Anton, 22, 27, 33 brevity, 15–17, 19–22, 25, 29, 33, 36, Cherchi, Paolo, xi 156, 170n36 Chervel, André, 181n29 Brombert, Victor, 110, 174n14 Chevalier, Anne, 188n1 Brooks, Peter, 3 Chevalier, Jean, 180n22 Brunner, H., 65 Chimera, 78, 107, 114 Buchen, Irving H., 169n29 “choix d’une ﬁnacée, Le” (Hoffmann), Burgess, Anthony, 64 134 Burroughs, William, 168n22 Chopin, Kate, 17, 22 Butor, Michel, 84, 90–1, 112, 130, Chrétien de Troyes, 136, 193n37 183n5 Christianity, 30, 40, 56, 80, 81, 90–2, Buvik, Per, 178–9n5 95, 99–101, 107, 110, 112, 184n8 200 INDEX chronology, ix, 1, 7, 8, 17, 25, 26, 37, confessions, Les (Rousseau), 24 157, 159, 167n16, 167n19 Coninck, J.L. de, 65 Balzac and, 157 Conte du Graal (Chrétien de Troyes), Flaubert and, 90 136, 193n37 Huysmans and, 74 see also grail legend Proust and, 126, 141, 142, 146 Contre Sainte-Beuve (Proust), 127, short story cycle vs. novel and, 50, 142 119–20 Corbière, Tristan, 82 chute, La (Camus), 26, 30, 157, 176n24 Corbière-Gille, Gisèle, 52 cimetière marin, Le (Valéry), 84 Cortázar, Julio, 8, 64 Cirlot, J.E., 71, 108 Coste, Claude, 36 City of God (Augustine), 101 Cousins, 181n29 Clarac, Pierre, 126, 188n1 crescendo, 26, 59, 80 Claudel, Paul, 87 Crouzet, Michel, 55 Clockwork Orange (Burgess), 64 Cryle, Peter, 46, 48–9, 173n6, 175nn Cloonan, William, 1 Culler, Jonathan, 61, 178n49, 182n1 Clope au dossier (Pinget), 37 Curtis, Jerry, 174n14, 175n21 Cocteau, Jean, 149 “cœur simple, Un” (Flaubert), 112 decadence, 65, 74–6, 80, 83 coherence, ix, x, 5, 9–10, 13, 27, 29, 63, Delacroix, Eugène, La mort de 156–8, 163, 167n19 Sardanapale, 53, 177n36 Flaubert and, 91, 93, 112 Deleuze, Gilles, 130, 140, 195n61 frame tales and, 34 Delphine (Staël), 30 Huysmans and, 66, 83–4, 86, 88 Descharmes, René, 183n2, 187n30 Proust and, 144, 152, 187n1 Descombes, Vincent, 188n5 short story cycle and, 36, 49, 60, 163 description, xi, 8, 10, 160 Cohn, Dorrit, 24, 169n30, 191n24 Balzac and, 24 Colet, Louise, 183n3, 185–6n25 Flaubert and, 93, 94, 109 Color-Keys to À la recherche du temps Huysmans and, 18, 67, 82, 160, perdu, The (Pasco), 148, 180n22, 179n9 188n6 Proust and, 64, 120, 143, 146 colors, 182n34 Robbe-Grillet and, 28 Huysmans and, 71–2, 76, 79 Dezon-Jones, Elyane, 189n18 Proust and, 64, 119, 125–6, 128, diaboliques, Les (Barbey d’Aurevilly), 148–9, 163 51–61, 119, 176–8nn Comédie humaine (Balzac), “À un dîner d’athées,” 56, 59 “Foreword,” 149 “Le bonheur dans le crime,” 57, 58, see also speciﬁc titles 59 Compagnon, Antoine, 187n1, 189n18, “Le dessous de cartes d’une partie de 190n23, 191n29 whist,” 57, 59 Composition no. 1 (Saporta), 8, 159 image structure and, 36–7 Condillac, Étienne Bonnot, 72–5, 79, “Le plus bel amour de Don Juan,” 83, 181n29 52–7, 59, 178n46 condition humaine, La (Malraux), 7, “Le rideau cramoisi,” 52, 57, 59, 134 80, 158 theme and, 51, 59–60 INDEX 201

title of, 50–2 Ernaux, Annie, 25, 156 “La vengeance d’une femme,” 51, étranger, L’ (Camus), 14, 174n14 56–7, 59 etymologies, 125, 128, 130–3, 140, Diamond, Marie J., 186n26 189n18, 190n23, 191n29, 192n34 Dickens, Charles, 78 Eugénie Grandet (Balzac), 113, 158 Diderot, Denis, 171n41 Eugen Onegin (Pushkin), 23 Didron, Adolphe Napoleon, 110 exil et le royaume, L’ (Camus), 35–6, Didymus the Blind, 92, 94 38–50, 60, 173–6nn dieux ont soif, Les (France), 80 “La femme adultère,” 38–9, 47, 48 disarticulation, see breaks “L’hôte,” 41–3, 47, 48–9, 176n22 disparition, La (Perec), 3 images and unity of, 36, 47–8 Distinction of Fiction, The (Cohn), 24, “Jonas ou l’artiste au travail,” 43–4, 169n30 47–9, 175n21 Dom Juan (Molière), 18, 53 “Les muets,” 40–1, 42, 48 Donaldson-Evans, Mary, 171n45 “La pierre qui pousse,” 44–9, 176nn Doody, Margaret A., 2, 7, 166n5, “Le renégat ou un esprit confus,” 167n16 39–40, 48, 157 doubling, 21 thematic unity of, 47, 50, 157 dualism, 91, 92, 184n10 “extreme” novel, ix, 1–2 du Camp, Maxime, 92 Dugrip, Albert, 66 fabliaux,34 Dumesnil, Réné, 187n30 “fabula,” 159 Falloux,Frédéric,comtede,80 Eagleton, Terry, 21, 166n5 Faulkner, William, 33, 156, 170n38 e-books, 22 faux-monnayeurs, Les (Gide), 8, 159–60 Echenoz, Jean, 10 Fénelon, François, 132 Eco, Umberto, 20 Ferré, André, 126 Eden, Garden of, 96, 99 Feuillerat, Albert, 188–9n10 education, of reader, 20, 122–3, 142–4 Fischler, Alexander, 176nn éducation sentimentale, L’ (Flaubert), Fisher, Eméric, 120 90, 93 Fisher King, 136–9, 192n35 El Greco, 76 Flaubert, Gustave, x, xi, 2, 5, 26, 33, 64, ellipsis, 21, 59 78, 81, 88, 89–115, 159, 160, see also breaks 171n45, 182–7nn embedded stories, 52–3 fleurs du mal, Les (Baudelaire), 50 Emile (Rousseau), 28 flowers “ennemi, L’ ” (Baudelaire), 72 Huysmans and, 22, 65, 69, 75, 77–8, En rade (Huysmans), 67, 69, 85, 180n18 83, 86, 162 “entelechy,” 5 Proust and, 121, 138, 139, 148, 163, epic, 13, 20, 23 192n35 epiphany, x, 17, 112, 120, 163, 170n37 form, content vs., 5, 170n36 see also moments bienheureux Forster, E.M., 14–15, 166n5 epistolary novel, 28, 53 Fortassier, Rose, 69, 75, 179n16 eponyms, 134–5, 140 fourches caudines, Les (Achard), 134 Erlich, Victor, 23 fragmentation, see breaks 202 INDEX frame tales, 34 Grand Dictionnaire (Larousse), 99 France,Anatole,10 Greimas, A.J., ix François le champi (Sand), 141, 162 Grélé, Denis D., 181n29 Frank, Joseph, 8 Griffin, Robert, 91, 110, 186n27 Freud, Sigmund, 169n30 Grojnowski, Daniel, 179n9 Frey, Anna Louise, 193n45 Grossvogel, David I., 1 Friedman, Norman, 169n25 Guénon, René, 174n11 Frye, Northrop, 14, 168n24 Guers-Villate, Yvonne, 42 Fumaroli, Marc, 65 Guillemin, Henri, 186–7n27 Furst, Lilian R., 179n8 Guilleragues, Gabriel de, 24

Gadourek, Carina, 46, 49 Hailey, Arthur, 20 Gasiglia-Laster, Danièle, 192n35 Halpern, Joseph, 179n9 Gay-Crosier, Raymond, 175n21 Hawthorn, Jeremy, 167n18, 171n39 Genette, Gérard, 129, 189nn, 190nn Hawthorne, Nathaniel, 33 genre Heath, Stephen, 168n24 definitions of, 7–8, 11–14 Hegel, G.W.F., 22 expectation of reader and, 13, 30 Heilmann, Ann, 182n34 generic vs., 5–6 Heliodorus, 170n33 “narrative” and, 168n24 Hello, Ernest, 80 stylistic devices and, 20–1 Hemingway, Ernest, 17 see also novel; short story; short story heptaméron, L’ (Marguerite de cycle Navarre), 22, 120 Germinal (Zola), 30, 64–5 Herschbert-Pierrot, Anne, 193n42 Gheerbrant, Alain, 180n22 Hesse, Douglas, 169n27 Giard, Anne, 51 Higgens, Lynn A., 7, 167n17 Gide, André, xi, 1, 6, 8, 16, 21, 87, 152, Hippolyte, Jean-Louis, 160 155, 159–60 Hirsch, E.D., Jr., 11 Gil Blas (Lesage), 28 Histoire du roi de Bohême (Nodier), 84 Gilman, Charlotte Perkins, 20, 182n34 Hoffmann, E.T.A, 55, 134 Ginsburg, Michal Peled, 112, 183nn hommes de bonne volonté, Les Giono, Jean, 20, 84, 87 (Romains), 15 Gnostic heresies, 95, 99–102, 113 homosexuality, 78, 130, 144, 191n25 Gobseck (Balzac), 64 “Horla, Le” (Maupassant), 26 Godard, Jean-Luc, 9, 12, 160 houses, symbolism of, 70–1, 181n24 Godenne, René, 143 Hugo, Victor, 79, 142 Go Down Moses (Faulkner), 156 Hunter, J. Paul, 6 Goethe, Johann Wolfgang von, 7, Huysmans, Joris-Karl, xi, 7, 65–88, 157, 134–5 160–2, 178n3, 179–82nn gommes, Les (Robbe-Grillet), 161 hypotaxis, 37 Goodkin, Richard, 189n10 Gracq, Julien, 52 Iconographie chrétienne (Didron), 110 Graham, Victor E., 132–3, 139, 191n29, idealist novel, 3 192n34 Ifri, Pascal, 194n51 grail legend, 130, 136–9, 191n26 Illusions perdues (Balzac), 33, 120, 158 INDEX 203 image and image structure, 8, 10, “ ‘je’ proustien, Le” (Suzuki), 150 16–18, 22, 24, 29–30, 157–9, Jesus Christ, 45, 53, 76, 95–102, 104, 161–3, 167n19, 170n38, 171n50, 109–11 187n32 Job, 13 Balzac and, 112–13, 157–9 John, S. Beynon, 174n14 Barbey and, 36–7, 50–1, 59–60, 157 Johnson, B.S., 23 Camus and sequence vs., 36, 39, 43, Johnson, Patricia J., 174n14 45–9, 174n14 Jonah, 44, 48 defined, 8, 37 Jourde, Pierre, 178n3 Flaubert and, 90, 96, 106–7, 109–13, “Journées de lecture” (Proust), 129 115, 158–9 Joyce, James, 33, 170n37 Huysmans and, 66–7, 72, 83, 86, 88, Jung, Carl, 71, 75 180n20 Justine (Sade), 25 painting vs. prose and, 187n32 Proust and, 17, 18, 120–1, 125, Kermode, Frank, 3, 10 128–9, 131, 135, 137, 140, Kilchenmann, Ruth J., 27 144–50, 153–4, 157–9, 188nn, King, Adele, 175n21 189n18, 192n34, 195n61 “King Cheops and the Magicians,” 37 Robbe-Grillet and, 28, 159 Là-bas (Huysmans), 85 Saporta and, 159 Laclos, Choderlos de, 28 sequence vs., x, xi, 10–11, 17, 25–6, Ladenson, Elisabeth, 191n25 30–1, 37, 158–60, 163 Lafayette, Madame de, 7, 28 short story and, 16–17 Lancelot, 133–4 short story cycle vs. novel and, 47–8, Larousse, Pierre, 99 50, 60–1, 156–7 Lauris, Georges de, 192n34 immoraliste, L’ (Gide), 1, 14, 16, 155 Lawrence, D. H., 21 “incentives,” 123–5, 129–30, 132, 135, Leal, R.B., 91, 102, 112, 182n1, 183n3, 142, 151, 152 184n12, 185n18, 186n27 Indiana (Sand), xi, 157, 158 “légende de St. Julien l’hospitalier, La” Ingram, Forrest L., 50, 60–1, 172–3n1, (Flaubert), 2 178n48 Leiris, Michel, 87 innovation, 3, 30–1, 37, 87, 89, 94, 142, length, 14–17, 19–21, 29–30, 147–8, 155 153, 156 intaglio, see negative narration Leroyer de Chantepie, Marie-Sophie, intensifiers, xi, 49, 60, 79, 88, 112, 139, 89 163, 164 Lesage, Alain-René, 28 involuntary memory, 121, 149, 151, Lettres de la religieuse portugaise,24 153–4, 162 Levi-Strauss, Claude, ix see also moments bienheureux Lewis, Monk, 55 Issacharoff, Michael, 65 liaisons dangereuses, Les (Laclos), 28 “Literature of Exhaustion, The” Jakobson, Roman, 91, 167n17 (Barth), 4 jalousie, La (Robbe-Grillet), 28, 68, 159 Little Women (Alcott), 18 James, Henry, 2, 160 livre mystique, Le (Balzac), 113 Janus, 38, 174n11 Lohengrin (Wagner), 140, 193n45 204 INDEX

Lombard, Alfred, 185n18, 187n30 Mecz, Irène, 193n37 Longnon, August, 133, 191n29 Mein, Margaret, 192n35 Look Homeward, Angel (Wolfe), 15 Merleau-Ponty, Maurice, 172n40 “loteria en Babilonia, La” (Borges), 2 metaphor and metaphoric chains, 35, Louis Lambert (Balzac), 142, 146 68, 91, 121, 124–7, 147–9, 152–4, Louÿs, Pierre, 66 161–3, 188n6 Lubbock, Percy, 166n6 Mickelsen, David, 65–6 Lucan, 74 Migne, Jacques-Paul, 69 “Lucie ou la femme sans ombre” Miguet-Ollagnier, Marie, 193n37 (Tournier), 22 Miller, Henry, 175n21 Luscher, Robert M., 173n1 Miller, O.J., 42 Luyken, Jan, 76, 82 Milly, Jean, 126, 130, 188n1 lyric, 20, 87 Milton, John, 7 misanthrope, Le (Molière), 18 Madame Bovary (Flaubert), 2, 26, 50, “mixed genre,” 16 64, 89, 93, 171n45 Modiano, Patrick, 156, 161 Maddocks, Melvin, 37–8, 117 Molière, 18, 22, 53, 63 Mallarmé, Stéphane, 66, 69–70, 82, 87, moments bienheureux (“blessed 145, 162 moments”), 19, 120–1, 123, 140, Malleus maleficarum (Sprenger), 69 143, 148, 149, 153, 154, 162, Malraux, André, 7, 158, 160 170n37 Man, Paul de, 191n24 Moore, George, 66 Mann, Susan Garland, 172–3n1 Moreau, Gustave, 69, 76, 179n6 Manon Lescaut (Prévost), 28 Moretti, Franco, 167n16 Martin, Wallace, 167n17 “mort des amants, La” (Baudelaire), Martin-Chauffier, Louis, 150, 191n24, 72 192n34 motifs, recurring, 48, 60 Mary, see Virgin Mary Motte, Warren, 3, 194n49 Mathilde, Princess, 183n4 Mourier-Casile, Pascaline, 177n42 Matoré, Georges, 193n37 moyen de parvenir, Le (Beroalde de Matsumoto, Yosei, 35 Ver ville), 37 Maupassant, Guy de, x, 10, 17, 26, 33, Mrosovsky, Kitty, 107 37, 168–9n25 Mugnier, Abbé, 162 Mauriac Dyer, Nathalie, 188n1, Muller, Marcel, 193n38 190n20 multiplicity, 10, 21, 151, 160 May, Charles, 170n38 muse du département, La Maynial, Edouard, 186n26 (Balzac), 33 Mazel, Henri, 183n1, 187n30 music, 22, 82, 121–2, 126, 151 McDonald, Christie, 187–8n1 McGann, Jerome, 168n24 Musset, Alfred de, 115 McKeon, Andrew, 58 mystery novels, 11, 25, 159 McKeon, Michael, 167n16 meaning Nabokov, Vladimir, 156 levels of, 64–5 names, see onomastics patterns of, 69–70 narratee, 176n28 INDEX 205 narrative structure, 3, 25, 27, 53–4, 67, length and, 14–17, 19–21, 29, 147–8, 157, 158, 168n24 153, 156 dueling narrations, 158 open structure and, see under open Flaubert and, 94, 112 structure Huysmans and, 85 origins of, 6–7, 167n16 Proust and, 120, 141–2, 152–3 other genres exploited by, 18–22, 63, see also negative narration; sequence 87, 155 narrative retardation, 59 prose as element of, 9–13, 15, 16, narrative voice, 49, 51–3 21–3, 29, 33–4, 156, 163 Nathan, Jacques, 191n29 resolution and, 161, 167n19 Nattiez, Jean-Jacques, 126, 192nn romance vs., 2 naturalism,7,85–6 sequence and, see under narrative Navarre, Marguerite de, 22, 34, 120 structure; negative narration; negative narration (intaglio structure), sequence xi, 30, 67–8, 83, 119, 149–50, short story vs., 16–18, 22, 29 157–8, 161–2 short story cycle vs., 16–18, 36–7, Nelson, Roy Jay, 80, 180n20 47–50, 60–1, 156–8 Nemerov, Howard, 171n41, 195n56 subgenres and, 11, 167n16 Neo-Aristotelians, 16 subject matter or content and, 1–2, new,as“oppositional,”7 7–8, 26, 155–6 New Critics (Nouvelle Critique), xi, 12 temporality and, 167n16 New Novel (nouveau roman), ix, 4, 28, theater vs., x, xi, 60, 114–15 53, 64, 68, 84, 87, 166n10 see also specific aspects; authors; and Nicole, Eugène, 80 works Nodier, Charles, 84 novel cycles, 15 Noé (Giono), 84 novella, 16 Nombres (Sollers), 156 Nuccitelli, Angela, 71 nouvelle Héloïse, La (Rousseau) 6 Nykrog, Per, 193nn novel Baudelaire on, 93–4 O’Brien, Justine, 191n25 challenges to, 156 O’Connor, Flannery, 20 changes in understanding of, 12–13 O’Connor, Frank, 25 coherence and unity and, 9–10, Olds, Marshall C., 184n14 49–50, 157–8 onomastics, 127–8, 134, 135 see also coherence; unity open structure, xi, 8–10, 28, 154, crescendo, see under crescendo 159–60 definitions of, ix–xi, 3, 6–14, 27, opposition, 7, 20–1, 30–1, 49, 91, 112, 29–30, 53, 156, 163–4, 167–9nn 180n20 fiction as element of, 23–4, 29 Orr, Leonard, 5, 167n19 form as element of, 160 Orr, Mary, 91, 112, 184n8, 185n18, Huysmans’s revolt vs., 68, 70, 84–6 186n26 image structure and, see under image Ortega y Gasset, José, 170n33 structure Orwell, George, 175n21 innovation and novelty and, ix, xi, Oster, Christian, 3 1–6, 64, 87, 155 Oulipo, ix, 3, 53, 87 206 INDEX

Owen, Stephen, 170n33 Powers, Richard, 172n59 oxymoron, 68, 180n20 Prescott, Orville, 35 Prévost, Abbé, 28 Painter, George, 191n24 Prince, Gerald, 25, 176n28 painting, 187n32 “princedeBohème,Un”(Balzac),84 Flaubert and, 112 princess de Clèves, La (Lafayette), 4, 7, Huysmans and, 67, 76, 82, 83, 86, 28, 158 162, 177n36, 179n6 prise/prose de Constantinople, La Proust and, 152 (Ricardou), 22 Pale Fire (Nabokov), 156 “procureur de Judée, Le” (France), 10 parataxis, 21, 36–8 Propp, Vladimir, ix, 64 see also breaks Proust, Marcel, x, xi, 3, 5, 6, 7, 17–19, paronomasia, 132, 133, 135, 140 25, 36–8, 61, 64, 68, 87–8, 117–54, Parsifal legend, 135–9, 192n35, 193nn 157–9, 161–3, 170n37, 187–95nn Parsifal (Wagner), 136, 193n40 Proust as Musician (Nattiez), 126 “parure, La” (Maupassant), 10, 17 Przybos, Julia, 55 Pascal, Blaise, 80, 174n11 Pugh, Anthony R., 192n34 Pasco, Allan H., 59, 67, 112, 148, 158–9, Pushkin, Alexander, 23 165n2, 171n42, 173n7, 178n45, Quartier perdu (Modiano), 156, 161 178n2, 180n18, 187n31, 196nn Quémar, Claudine, 128, 190n23 Patrologies (Migne), 69 Queneau, Raymond, ix, 3, 166n8 Pavel, Thomas, 3 Quicherat, Jules, 133, 191n29 Pearce, Richard, 13 Péguy, Charles, 87 Rabelais, François, 7, 28, 37 Perec, Georges, ix, 3 rabouilleuse, La (Balzac), 158 père Goriot, Le (Balzac), 25, 53, 113, Rahmenerählungen (frame tales), 34 158–9 Rayuela (Cortázar), 8, 64 Perkins, Maxwell, 15 reader Perry, B.E., 169n25 expectations of, 13, 14, 170n33 Petit, Jacques, 50–2, 56, 178nn power of, 30 Petronius, 74 Proust and, 142–54, 162–3, 194nn Peyre, Henri, 189n10 realism, 3, 6–7, 21, 86, 87, 92–3, 155 Picasso, Pablo, 9 reality, 1, 24, 94, 151, 155 picque-nique, Le (Oster), 3 “Recueillement” (Baudelaire), 156 Pinget, Robert, 37, 160–1 Redon, Odilon, 76, 82 place, La (Ernaux), 25, 156 repetition, 16, 18–21, 36–7, 161 plot, 3–5, 8, 25, 27, 36, 47, 48, 50, 60, “Return of the Story (Maybe)” 64–7, 84–6, 159–60, 163, 164 (Cloonan), 1 Plottel, Jeanine P., 190n23 Revel, J.-F., 121, 125, 141, 194n46 Poe, Edgar Allan, 15, 29, 72, 81, 147 Ricardou, Jean, 3, 22, 87, 143, 160, porte étroite, La (Gide), 1 166n9 Porter, Laurence M., 66, 93, 179n6 Richard, Jean-Pierre, 130, 132, 186n27 portes de Gubbio, Les (Sallenave), 155 Richter, David, 9 postmodernism, 21 Ricœur, Paul, 24 post-structuralism, 12, 14, 30, 168n24 Rise of the Novel, The (Watt), 6–7 INDEX 207

Rivière, Jacques, 122, 193n41 sequence, 16, 167n19 Robbe-Grillet, Alain, 22, 28, 68, 84, 87, Barbey and, 51, 59 157, 159, 160, 161 Huysmans and, 83–4 Robert, Louis de, 126 image vs., x, xi, 10–11, 17, 25–6, Roberts, Thomas J., 24 30–1, 37, 158–60, 163 Robles, Umberto, xi Proust and, 118, 141–2, 146 Rodina, Herta, 176–7n30 short story cycle and thematic, 35–7, Rodrigues, Jean-Marc, 192n35 157 Roelens, Maurice, 42 see also narrative structure; negative Roger, Alain, 190n23 narration Roger des Genettes, Madame, 110 Sésame et les lys (Ruskin/Proust), 142 Rogers, Brian G., 52, 59, 190n20, setting, 36, 47, 67, 160 195n54 Seznec, Jean, 90, 100, 108, 110, 183n2, roi des aulnes, Le (Tournier), 20, 26 186n27 Romains, Jules, 15 Shakespeare, William, 7, 79 Roudiez, Leon, 11–12 Shattuck, Roger, 19, 171n41, 195n56 Rousseau, Jean-Jacques, 6, 24, 28, Sherrington, R.J., 90 64, 80 Shklovsky, Victor, 8, 37 Rousset, Jean, 118, 152 “Short Happy Life of Francis route des Flandres, La (Simon), 8, Macomber, The” (Hemingway), 10, 161 17, 63–4 Rubin,DavidLee,xi short story, 170n35 ruptures, see breaks early, 2, 33–4 Russian Formalists, xi, 23, 24, endings and, 10 64, 159 image structure and, 16–17 length or brevity and, 14–22, 26 Sade, Marquis de, 2 novel vs., 14–19, 21, 22, 29 “Saint Julien” (Flaubert), 112 short story cycles, 15, 18, 33–61, saints’ lives, 34, 86 119–20, 172–3n1 Sallenave, Danièle, 155–6 antithetical themes in, 35–6 Sand, George, xi, 108, 157, 162, 183nn, Barbey’s Les diaboliques, 36–7, 51–60 185n20 Camus’ L’exil, 35–50 Saporta, Marc, 8, 159 frame tales and early, 34 Sarraute, Nathalie, 87, 158, 160 image structure and, xi, 36–7 Schlossman, Beryl, 170n37, novel vs., 36–8, 49–50, 60–1, 156–7 188n6 see also speciﬁc works Scholes, Robert, 170n33 Showalter, English, Jr., 48, 174n13 Schoolcraft, Ralph, 1 Simon, Claude, 8, 10, 161 Schorer, Mark, 171n50 Simon, John K., 42–3 Sedgwick, Ellery, 27 sjuzhet, 159 Séginger, Giséle, 67, 68, 180n20, 182n1, Sollers, Philippe, 12, 156 186n26 Sonnenfeld, Albert, 182n1, 185n18 semiotic signs, 128, 131 Souday, Paul, 194n46 senses, 73–9, 81, 83, 121–2 “spatial form,” 8 sensualist school, 73 see also image and image structure 208 INDEX

Sphinx, 78, 107, 114 part ii (seven deadly sins), 90–1, Spinoza, Baruch de, 107, 109, 185n20, 97–9, 113 187n30 part iii (continuation of seven deadly spiritualistic naturalism, 85 sins), 98, 113 Spitzer, Leo, 130 part iv (spiritual temptation and Spivak, Gayatri, 168n21 heresies), 90, 99–102, 108, 113 Splendeurs et misères des courtisanes part v (temptation of things), 98, (Balzac), 120 102–4, 108, 113 Sprenger,Jacob,69 part vi (temptation of idea), 90, 98, Staël, Madame de, 30 104–6, 108 Starr, Peter, 185n18 part vii (Trinity), 106–11, 114 Stendhal, 17 revisions of, 90, 92–3 “Storm, The” (Chopin), 17 temptation, the, 97, 111–2 structuralists, xi unity of, and Trinity, 91–2, 96, style, unity and, 50 106–12, 114 subplot, 21 Terdiman, Richard, 187n1 Sur Catherine de Médicis (Balzac), xi, Tertullian, 101, 109, 110 17, 113 theme, 2, 3, 9, 22, 60, 87, 157, 160, 163, Suzuki, Michihiko, 150 164, 167n16 Swan Knight, 135, 193n45 Balzac and, 158 Swan Lake, 135, 138–9 Barbey and, 36, 50–2, 55–60, 78, 99, symbolism, 50, 64, 86–7, 161 100, 157 Balzac and, 159 Camus and, 35–45, 47–50, 157 Barbey and, 36 Huysmans and, 72, 87–8 Camus and, 47–8 image structure and, 25, 37–8 Huysmans and, xi, 68–71, 74–6, 83–6 Proust and, 131, 135–6, 148, 157 Proust and, 64, 148 short story cycle and, 35–45, 51, short story and, 22 59–60, 156, 157 symbolist poets, 87 see also image and image structure Symons, Arthur, 66, 70 Thierry, Augustin, 132 syntagmatic coherence, 9, 51, 67, 83, Thody, Philip, 176n25 92, 112, 126–7, 157 Thomas, Dylan, x, 23 Thucydides, 14 Tadié, Jean-Yves, 126, 152, 189n10 Tieck, Ludwig, 27 Taine, Hippolyte, 181n29, 187n30 Tieghem, Philippe van, 24, 172n53 Tarver, John Charles, 182n1 Tindall, William York, 65 Temps et récit (Ricœur), 24 Todorov, Tzvetan, ix, 8, 12–13, 25 tentation de saint Antoine, La tone, 25, 160–1 (Flaubert), xi, 2, 18, 89–115, 161, Tournier, Michel, 20, 22, 26 182–7nn Traité des sensations (Condillac), 72–3, challenge of, 89–94, 114–15 181n29 image structure of, 112–14, 158–9 Trébutien, Guillaume, 50 part i (three major categories of sin), triadic format, Proust and, 126–7 94–5, 97–9, 113 triangular relationships, 59 INDEX 209 trinitarian structure, Flaubert and, Wagner, Richard, 82, 135–6, 138, 139, 91–2, 94–8, 104–14, 115, 158 192n35, 193nn Tripet, Arnaud, xi War and Peace (Tolstoy), 15, 20 Tristan and Isolde (Wagner), 151 Watkins, J.H., 193n42 Trois contes (Flaubert), 26 Watt,Ian,6–7 Tropismes (Sarraute), 158, 160 Watt (Beckett), 2 True Story of the Novel, The (Doody), 7, Weekend (Godard), 9, 160 166n5, 167n16 Weinreb, Ruth Plaut, 65, Tynjanov, Jurij, 12 179n9 Wellek, René, 29 unity, 160–1, 166n6, 167n19 Wiese, Benno von, 21 Camus and, 35, 36, 47, 49, 173n6 Wilde, Oscar, 66, 70 coherence vs., 9–10 Williams, William Carlos, 15 Flaubert and, 90–2, 107–8 Wolfe, Thomas, 15 Proust and, 38, 61, 117, 144, 148, Wölfﬂin, Heinrich, 14 149, 151–3, 162 WomeninLove(Lawrence), 21 resolution vs., 167n19 Wood, Michael, 19 short story and, 21 Wood, Robin, 9 short story cycle vs. novel and, 34, Woolf, Virginia, 4, 24 49–50, 60–1, 157–8 Yeats, William Butler, 66 Valéry, Paul, 66, 68, 70, 84, 87, 91, 92, “Yellow Wallpaper, The” (Gilman), 20, 143, 179n16 182n34 Vallée, Claude, 191n26 Vendryes, J., 189n14 Zants, Emily, 174n14, 185n18 Verlaine, Paul, 82 Ziegler, Robert, 70–1 verse, 23, 34 Zola, Émile, 20, 30, 64–5, 81, 85–6, 88, Viers, Rina, 192n35 156, 161, 178n4 Vigneron, Robert, 189n10 Zumthor, Paul, 16–17, 25, 170n36, Virgin Mary, 55–7 183n36