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Original citation: Lupton, Christina. (2016) The novel as the future anterior of the book : Tom McCarthy’s Remainder and Ali Smith’s the Accidental. Novel: A Forum on Fiction, 49 (3). pp. 504-518. Permanent WRAP URL: http://wrap.warwick.ac.uk/79149 Copyright and reuse: The Warwick Research Archive Portal (WRAP) makes this work by researchers of the University of Warwick available open access under the following conditions. Copyright © and all moral rights to the version of the paper presented here belong to the individual author(s) and/or other copyright owners. To the extent reasonable and practicable the material made available in WRAP has been checked for eligibility before being made available. Copies of full items can be used for personal research or study, educational, or not-for-profit purposes without prior permission or charge. 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For more information, please contact the WRAP Team at: [email protected] warwick.ac.uk/lib-publications The Novel as the Future Anterior of the Book: Tom McCarthy’s Remainder and Ali Smith’s the Accidental At the end of Gramophone, Film, Typewriter (1986), a study that documents the breaking away of media from human physiology, Friedrich Kittler states: “under the conditions of high technology, literature has nothing more to say” (262). This doesn’t mean that he foresees a lack of things being written; rather, Kittler refers here to the increasingly likely scenario of machines being able to “speak” to themselves and each other, through networks and systems that bypass human cognition. The critic’s role in this setting would be to “read” these networks as the language underlying all others. Such an approach to literary history, Johanna Drucker stresses, aims “not to give a techno-determinist reading of literature, but to proffer a highly literary reading of the technologies of inscription as texts” (2013). Novels can still show up under this media historical lens. But their vital capacity to register the technologies of inscription and data transfer that produced them—Dracula and Gravity’s Rainbow are two novels on which Kittler has written in this vein—is recast as writing’s capacity to grasp and speak of its own production, evidence of matter informing matter rather than a dialectical relationship between transcendent and material realms (1997; 50, 101). This essay is about two fictions that seem to cede their reflexive capacity to media in this way. Kittler’s description of an inscription technology as something increasingly able to speak for and of itself, and to replace in this capacity traditionally human forms of self-reflection, is a scenario Remainder and the Accidental each take seriously. Both novels promote consciousness of bookishness; of the codex as a machine that is sequential and material; of the printed page; of moveable type. More importantly, both offer a view of the paper page that seems provided by 1 the technologies that move beyond it rather than by a human consciousness of matter. Partly in honor of these novels, and partly as an experiment in thinking through our current interest in surfaces and materials, my theoretical alliance in this paper remains with media archeology. But even in the terms of Kittler and Latour, I will suggest, the reflexivity of the kind at work in Tom McCarthy’s Remainder and Ali Smith’s The Accidental is difficult to parse entirely as a process of media’s self-begetting. This is partly because Smith and McCarthy account very differently for what the codex book will have been, implying that they represent it from the perspective of a media platform that has succeeded the book but also opening up the question of what that platform is. In this sense, their novels differ from reflexive classics like Don Quixote or Tristram Shandy, which animate the page much more directly as something articulate about its own trajectory. But Remainder and The Accidental are also unlike the digital novels, the techno-texts of N. Katherine Hayles’s description, which deploy the screen medium as a palpable referent shared by reader and writer, active in shaping the story told by the text (2011). Instead these novels pry themselves away from the book as their scene of composition even as it continues, a decade after their publication, to be the form in which they are most likely to circulate. Their description of their own mediation involves a relationship of exteriority to the book that is fictional because it states how the future is to be occupied, but does so before it has arrived. One way to describe this move is as invoking the future anterior, a perspective that Mark Currie defines as “not the actual future, but an envisaged, virtual future which is part of the present, experiencing the present moment as one that will have been, as something that will have happened (2013:61). In Paper Machines (2005), Derrida describes the future anterior of the paper as the view that opens up of an inscription technology once it is no longer directly in use as 2 a medium, but is still present as a point of reference. Pointing to paper as something that continues to occupy us imaginatively in electronic times, he argues by way of an analogy: one drives, he suggests, with both hands and feet, moving forwards along the road while all the time looking into the rear view mirror into the world receding into the distance (64). By this logic, the first sign of our bodies moving into the future is the rearview mirror image of the past. But for Derrida, as well as for Currie, the future anterior is as much grammatical proposition as mechanical production. Novels like Remainder and The Accidental perform in these terms in a space opened up by media history, but the capacity they deploy, to look from a non-native perspective at the technology of paper and print is at least partly their own production. 1. Locating Transcendence Of all recent novelists, McCarthy may be the most widely recognized as working at the juncture of media archeology and fiction, touted for his enthusiastic handing over authorial power to information currents and media formats. Critics, including Justus Neiman, Peter Vermeulen, and Matthew Hart, by whom he was recently interviewed at length, have given him much credit as spokesperson for the idea that currents of media change are shaping the novel today. Commitment to this position plays out in C (2010), which tracks the life of its protagonist, Serge, at points of contact with early twentieth-century technology. Machines used to encode and convey language as physical data—gramophone, telegraph, radio—feature in the novel, suggesting that the text itself is a channel for the material passage of information. McCarthy’s non-fiction writing on the topic of authorship returns often to the image of novelist as more DJ than artist, involved in transmitting a “set of signals that have been repeating, pulsing, 3 modulating in the airspace of the novel, poem, play—in their lines, between them and around them—since each of these forms began” (2012c: Sec 1). In keeping with this description of the writer, McCarthy has expressed fascination with the idea of an archive being, not the author’s voice, but a series of keystrokes and moments in digital history. He speaks in one interview in praise of the strand of “genetic criticism” that uses the forensic evidence of writing to track the movement of authors from one draft to the next, their intersection with other texts in their reading, and the cross-fertilization of language that shows up as the influence of one document on another. This does not apply only to the print or manuscript archive. McCarthy points out that digital documents harbor just as much material evidence of the writer’s life if they are read by “software that can reconstruct every keystroke you made since the beginning of time – MacBook, floppy discs, the lot” (2012b). In this spirit, McCarthy seems to be craning actively to see his work from the angle Kittler suggests, as a material transcript that makes intellection no more or less than another medium. Remainder can, and has, been read in these terms as an essay into the idea that cognitive and subjective experience should be approached materially; a fiction carried by the whole raft of arguments in favor of approaching texts as surfaces rather than depths. McCarthy’s unnamed narrator appears as a mind from which memories and emotions have been wiped by a mysterious accident, a patient whose thoughts and movements are broken down into constituent parts and pathways and consciously re-learnt. Using money received in compensation for the accident, he builds up memories by creating the physical environments he believed triggered them, chasing down authentic experiences by reproducing the movements and sequences from which they arise. As a plot, this physical furnishing of a cognitive world is both witty and strangely enthralling, involving sets inhabited by vast numbers of people paid to re-enact specific 4 sequences. Theoretically, it is also in keeping with what media theorists, including Hayles and Kittler, but Bernard Steigler, and Mark B.