-
Letteratura
Michela
Canepari-Labib
-
- STORIES
OF THEORIES AND THEORIES OF STORIES: THE IMAGE OF THE
SPIRAL
- IN
BARTHES' CRITICISM AND BROOKE-ROSE'S
FICTION
-
- This paper was suggested by
the need I felt, in this postmodern era in which
"theory" often seems an extension of "narrative", to
examine the metaphors that writers use in literature
within the wider context of the critical discourses
surrounding them. In particular, I wanted to explore
the degree of their interaction with those critical
discourses in order to determine the nature of their
"newness." I therefore decided to rethink, in this
light, the relationship between literary and critical
metaphors in terms of influence and circularity,
asking basilar questions such as "are the metaphors
used in literature influenced by the ones critics
employ?" And, in turn, "are the metaphors employed in
criticism influenced by those writers use?",
considering finally whether these metaphors are then
primarily contagious.
- In order to do this, I
decided to refer to the work of one of the
structuralists who also became one of the main
exponents of poststructuralism, that is Roland
Barthes, and a contemporary novelist who has all too
often been accused of writing "theoretical novels",
namely Christine Brooke-Rose.
-
- Brooke-Rose
and Theory
-
- Because of her privileged
situation of being born of an English father and a
Swiss mother, and of being brought up in Belgium,
educated in London, just to move to France in her
middle age, Brooke-Rose has always enjoyed a position
on the border of different cultures, countries and
languages, and throughout her life has been able to
take advantage of the best each country had to offer
to her. This, of course, includes many of the theories
elaborated in France during the second half of the
twentieth century. This position on the borders,
actually led to the paradox that, while in Britain she
is considered as the one who attempted to introduce
the French nouveau roman and
structuralist/post-structuralist theory to this
country, in France she is seen principally as a
teacher and critic of British and American narrative,
which she taught in Paris from 1968 to 1988, before
retiring to Provence in order to concentrate on
writing her novels.
- One cannot deny the influence
that the nouveau roman and structuralism had on
her work, but even though until very recently she has
been dismissed by critics as an author who has been
over-influenced by French culture, one should always
remember that Brooke-Rose made a clear choice
regarding the language and, consequently, the
nationality of the readers she
addresses1,
and that she didn't read any theory until 1968 when,
after the publication of her third experimental novel
(Between), she moved to France and plunged into
the structuralist and post-structuralist
debate.
- We cannot therefore read her
novels of the 1960s as a simple narrativization of the
theories formulated in France during the same period,
because these same theories were still unknown to her
when she started to write experimentally, and were
approached by the author only later whereupon she
welcomed them as a confirmation of what she had been
trying to do with her first experimental texts. One
might be therefore tempted to see the path that
Brooke-Rose took from 1964, when she turned
experimental and published Out, as a parallel
and independent investigation of the same issues that
were the focus of much theoretical discussion, and
though the general intellectual atmosphere obviously
stimulated her development, the change of perspective
in her works was brought about by personal
reasons 2.
- It is however undeniable that
after moving to France and plunging into the
theoretical debates of structuralism and
post-structuralism, her attitude towards (and
knowledge of) theory underwent a radical
change.
- What remains constant in the
novels Brooke-Rose produced before and after moving to
France, is a different conception of narrative which
results in a questioning of the very notion of reality
on which 19th century realism had relied, resulting in
the refusal of the notion of the vraisemblable
and of the idea that the author is simply transcribing
the world.
- After the first four
conventional novels she published during the 1950s, in
fact, Brooke-Rose begins to see the real in all its
social, political and historical aspects as
conventionally determined and, more profoundly, as a
concrete effect of language. This notion of reality as
constructed through and through by language, is
therefore at the heart of Brooke-Rose's new conception
of the novel, whose ambition was then to make the
reader aware of the fact that what s/he has been led
to believe to be real is actually a non-original
product.
- The experimentalism
Brooke-Rose exhibits in her novels, together with the
defamiliarisation her texts enact, thus come close to
achieving what was the aim of structuralism, that is
to bring to consciousness what is taken as natural and
reveal it as a construct.
- We should however specify
that to say that Brooke-Rose assimilated some of the
concepts of the structuralists does not mean that she
accepted their theories in toto, and this is
what rendered her attitude towards literary theory
after 1968 so fresh and new, and which, beginning with
Thru, led her to question these theories more
openly than she had done in the novels prior to 1975.
By moving to Paris, Brooke-Rose finally realised she
was not alone in what she had been trying to do with
her work since she turned experimental. This, of
course, does not mean that Brooke-Rose, since arriving
in Paris, had grown obsessed with theory, and
automatically subordinated her narrative to it, but it
is quite unarguable that since discovering theory she
had grown more conversant with it, and that her
interest resulted in a fundamental concern with theory
in both her critical works and her novels. Hence, if
some of her early experimental novels appear a bit
tentative and not completely convincing in terms of
their theoretical apparatus, in her later novels (in
particular Thru and Amalgamemnon, on
which this paper focuses), she shows not only an
extraordinary mastery of theoretical notions, but also
an unparalleled ability to integrate "theory" into her
"narrative".
- Consequently, although
Brooke-Rose has often used her narratives to expose
the inconsistencies of the theories approached, she
has equally demonstrated to rely abundantly on theory
and the images created by certain critics such as
Barthes, and to be working, in her novels, precisely
to render some of these theories more intelligible for
the general public.
- As my title suggests, this
article focuses on the image of the spiral which
underlies many of Brooke-Rose's novels and which has
equally played a fundamental role in Barthes'
criticism. Amongst the many novels in which we find
the image of the spiral, I have chosen to focus my
discussion on Amalgamemnon, where the spiral
determines the narrative on both thematic and
structural levels, and Thru, trying to clarify the
relationship between the use that Barthes in his
critical work and Brooke-Rose in her novels make not
only of the image of the spiral, but also of other
critical notions such as "the death of the author" and
the linguistic nature of identity.
-
- The
Spiral Structure of Amalgamemnon
-
- In an attempt to make her
readers realise that identity is not a natural given
but a construction of the language the individual is
exposed to, after the publication of her first
experimental tetralogy, Brooke-Rose begins to play
more overtly with the ontological status of her
characters and increasingly blurs the boundary between
the first degree fictionality of the world she creates
and the second degree fictionality of the worlds to
which her narrators give birth in their narrative. By
so doing, she more openly foregrounds the
impossibility of escaping from the fictionality which,
stemming from the effects language has on reality,
envelops our world and our notions of
identity.
- Amalgamemnon, which is
entirely focused on the opposition between the past
and the future in different areas of society, is
perhaps the novel which more strongly foregrounds this
notion of the fictionality of the real (as everything
described is the result of the narrators' efforts of
imagination), and is characterised by the parodic tone
with which various preconceived notions derived from
Western history are treated, by the rhythm created by
the tense used (predominantly future), by the
mythological imagery her novel evokes and by the
rhetoric of classical history which Brooke-Rose's text
reproduces both by inserting into her narrative
passages from Herodotus' Histories as
translations or paraphrases, and by assigning names of
Latin and Greek origin to her characters, thus
demonstrating how the past cannot be washed
away.
- The narrative material is
constituted by the thoughts of the central character
(a teacher of the humanities who risks being made
redundant) her memories and some fragments of her
classical knowledge mixed (or rather amalgamated) with
both the situations, fairy-tales, love-affairs and
dialogues with students, friends, and relatives she
creates in her mind (who often desert the roles she
assigns to them and enter the first degree fictional
world that she inhabits), and with extracts from the
news, advertisements, quiz-games and talk-shows that
the radio broadcasts and which often function as a
trigger for her imagination, displacing the discourse
to another time, space and narrative
situation.
- Although everything can
therefore be assumed to be filtered through the same
consciousness, which is clearly imagining all that
described and which is apparently easily identifiable,
in the first passage, the "I" we find in the opening
line (reminiscent of Beckett's Malone Dies)
remains anonymous and assumes a name only later: "I
shall soon be quite redundant at last despite of all,
as redundant as you after queue and as totally
predictable, information-content zero" (Brooke-Rose:
1984, 5)3.
- On the following page, the
narrator is identified by the surname "Enketei", a
term composed of the Greek forms for "inside" and
"whale"4
which determines the narrator's choice of a first name
and the astronomical imagery the novel exploits.
However, before the reader gets to know what we must
assume to be her first name (namely Mira, finally
introduced on page 32), the narrator already assumes a
second identity, that of Cassandra, the prophetess
doomed never to be believed by her fellow Trojan
citizens (Brooke-Rose: 1984, 7). The mechanics of this
primal split, which leads the narrator to be
identified in the text primarily as Sandra, is
repeated throughout the novel and opens up a series of
further identifications through which the narrator
empathises with the figments of her imagination,
perpetually assuming several, shifting
identities.
- The continual transgression
of narrative levels by the narrator and by the doubly
fictional characters she imagines thus assumes a
fundamental role, as it is through these metalepses
that Brooke-Rose can propose the problematicity of any
exact definition of the ontological status of the
characters and the worlds the novel
constructs.
- In fact, because in astronomy
Mira has connotations of variability - it being the
name of a variable star in the constellation of Cetus
which, in Latin meaning whale, also recalls the
mythical image of Jonah, with whom Mira at times
identifies (Brooke-Rose: 1984, 17) - the name the
narrator assumes, becomes an indication of her
shifting identity, the astral body's magnitude being
metaphorically exploited to represent the individual's
identity.
- However, if the interest in
astronomy Brooke-Rose shows in Amalgamemnon is
related to the interest in scientific discourse she
developed during the 1960s, here it is more relevantly
connected to her desire to demonstrate the
extraordinary weight that the past necessarily has on
our present and the impossibility, in all areas of
society, of deleting our heritage from the way we
think and talk about the world.
- We can therefore see how
Brooke-Rose, one the one hand, urges the reader to
find new ways to approach reality other than those
inherited from past tradition and strives to
demonstrate the untenability of many conventions,
while on the other she acknowledges the substantial
presence of this heritage in our modern society, and
emphasises the necessity of maintaining this legacy
alive.
- In fact, Brooke-Rose does not
believe in burning all the theoretical systems on
which our civilisation relies to ashes, nor does she
believe that the past could and should be swept away
in so far as, sooner or later, it will return. What
she does believe in, is a more critical attitude
towards this past. Consequently she urges the reader
to be attentive to this past, an in order to do so,
she exploits the etymology of the words she uses and
she intertextually introduces many classical allusions
which, by inflecting the modernity she wants to
express through her experimentalism, stimulate the
reader to acknowledge the history in language and the
fact that words stem from an undeletable
past.
- Hence, since astronomy is
closely related (on a linguistic level) to mythology
and classical history, this science is proposed in the
novel as a counterpart or extension of Herodotus'
Histories. In addition, by exploiting the
imagery suggested by astronomy (which pertains to pure
science, that is science which deals with supposedly
natural products), and by positing it on the same
level as classical history (which pertains to human
science and deals with cultural products), Brooke-Rose
not only emphasises the classical heritage of a modern
science like astronomy, but also effectively blurs the
distinction between the two.
- Consequently, by obfuscating
the dividing line between the cultural and the
natural, she shows how a "pure" science such as
astronomy must adopt the same metaphorical language
that literature (and other human sciences) use, thus
demonstrating how all descriptions of the world
fundamentally correspond to metaphorical constructions
through which human beings try to make sense of their
surrounding reality.
- Thanks to Brooke-Rose's
exploitation of the metaphoricality of the
denomination of stars and constellations, they become
in fact a source for stories, in so far as, just like
the narrator's, the name of most of the characters
present in the narrative derive from the names of
stars, and it is their name which determines the role
and personality that Mira creates for
them.
- It must be noted, however,
that even though the narrator refers to herself as
"Mira" more often than by any other name, and that she
will return in the following novels of the tetralogy
under this name, Brooke-Rose renders her ontological
status more indefinite than ever, since the narrator's
identity in Amalgamemnon as Mira Enketei
appears simply as one identity among many.
- In my opinion, a doubt is in
fact raised whether what readers have assumed to be
the cause of her identification with a constellation
(her name) might be the effect of that identification,
which might have occurred independently from, and
previous to, her assumption of a name. Mira Enketei,
in fact, could be simply one of the many stars in this
novel which come to life as doubly fictional
characters, merely another projection of an
unidentified first narrator who remains
hidden.
- Even though it is easier to
recognise the double fictionality of the characters
present in the novel when the names designating them
are different (as in the case of Sandra), on closer
reading we realise that the various "Miras" we find in
the novel as the characters of the various subplots of
the text do not coincide with the Mira that we assume
to be the first narrator, as most of these "Miras" are
fictional Miras who coincide with the projection of a
narrator who remains on a superior narrative
level.
- In the case of the "Usury"
suplot, for example (in which a group of terrorists
kidnap the concept of "Usury"), strictly speaking,
this narrator does not directly coincide with the
first narrator, but with Sandra who, in her turn, is a
projection of the "real" fictional Mira of the first
degree fictional world of the novel. It is precisely
in this confusion of narrative levels that the
determination of the narrator's ontological status -
and consequently her identity - is lost, and the
reader is left with a series of "Miras" to whom s/he
cannot assign a precise place in the novel's
universe.
- Contrary to what critics have
suggested until now, I therefore think we should look
at this novel in terms of its different narrative
levels, as from the start most of the narrators of the
various narratives are narrators on the third degree,
since they are created by Sandra, who inhabits the
second degree reality of the novel which the first
narrator Mira begins to shape as early as the first
page, when she projects herself as queuing at the
Labour Exchange and meeting a man called
Willy.
- Hence, it would appear that,
while the first doubly fictional world of the novel is
created during a night when Mira is unable to sleep
because of her feared redundancy, all the other
stories are created during the nights when
Mira-as-Sandra leaves the bed where Willy is sleeping
and finds refuge in Herodotus and her
transistor-radio.
- Because Sandra maintains all
the essential properties of the first narrator (that
is a woman teacher of the humanities who is possibly
going to be made redundant), she becomes what Umberto
Eco calls a "variante potenziale" of the first
narrator (Eco: 1979, 142), and as such she becomes an
example of transworld identity. They in fact share the
same identity to such a point that it is at times
difficult to distinguish one from the other, and
probaby this is what leads readers to identify Mira as
the name of the first narrator. In accordance with the
second page of the novel, we must assume that Enketei
is the "actual" surname of the narrator, which is
passed onto her projection in the doubly fictional
world she creates. In this second degree world, Sandra
decides to project herself as Mira Enketei
(Brooke-Rose: 1984, 32), thus reversing their roles
and attaching this name onto the first narrator who
has never introduced herself as Mira, but simply as
Miss Enketei.
- This Mira2 is another
transworld identity who shares with Mira her
"necessary properties" (Eco: 1979, 135) such as being
a teacher of the humanities who receives letters from
an annoying student called Ethel Thuban (another
transworld identity), but who also acquires the
accidental properties characteristic of Sandra, such
as living on a pigfarm, and who finally gains
distinctive characteristics when, during the "Usury
subplot", she declares she has a daughter. The woman
who imagines herself receiving the letter of
redundancy and who meets Wally (Brooke-Rose: 1984,
124), should therefore be identified not with a
projection of the first narrator, but with a
projection of this Mira2 (Sandra2), who decides to
retire to a pigfarm, and who in her turn hints at the
possibility of letting herself be abducted by a band
of terrorists (Brooke-Rose: 1984, 138).
- Hence, although
Amalgamemnon seems to be a circular novel which
ends where it first began, in reality, the best
representation for this text is a spiral.
- The image of the spiral -
which is introduced in the text as the "spiral of
repression - terrorism - repression - terrorism"
(Brooke-Rose: 1984, 41) - recalls on one level the
image used by Giambattista Vico to represent the
notion of the repetition of history delineated in his
La scienza nuova (1725), and is therefore
closely connected to one of the main notions behind
Brooke-Rose's text, namely the fact that the past
perpetually returns in our present.
- At the same time, it can be
used to illustrate, as Barthes did, the continuous
shifts in narrative levels which become an important
feature of what Barthes calls plural and "writerly
texts", that is texts where text and criticism are
confounded. These are texts which resist the
imposition of defined meanings, oppose the reader's
attempts to compose these meanings into a stable
hierarchy, and by constructing themselves as a web
where new meanings do not develop vertically /
hierarchically, but are created by associations which
develop horizontally, deny readers the power to arrest
the play of meaning5.
As we read in Barthes:
-
-
- In a spiral, as in
Brooke-Rose's Amalgamemnon, the reader cannot go back
exactly to the point of departure, as even though the
point of arrival seems to coincide with the point of
departure, it is on a different narrative level.
Consequently, the structure of the novel should in my
opinion be represented as follows:
-
-
-
-
- Here, we start at the very
centre of the spiral with Brooke-Rose, who creates
Mira, who creates Willy, imagining her life on the
pigfarm as Sandra, who in her turn creates Mira2 and
so on.
- Hence, even though one could
argue that the various transworld identities projected
fundamentally coincide with the first narrator, this
structure is in my opinion justified by the fact that
the many transwolrd identities present in the text are
also characterised by different accidental properties
according to the doubly fictional world they belong
to, which makes them precisely into potential variants
of the first narrator, characterised by their
transworld identity, as opposed to absolute identity
(in which both necessary and accidental properties
coincide).
- The various worlds that Mira
creates are therefore not only different (even though
interrelated) from one another, but also
consequential, in so far as, for example, Mira
wouldn't have been able to imagine herself as held
hostage by terrorists on her pigfarm if she hadn't
already projected herself as having retired to that
pigfarm.
- In the novel, it appears
clear that the various characters created by the
narrator accomplish ontological jumps and, even though
the world inhabited by Mira shouldn't be accessible to
their doubly fictional worlds, they are yet able to
access it and contact her. Furthermore, they seem to
be clearly conscious of being creatures of someone
else, and (going beyond the transworld identities of
the various narrators) they identify their creator as
the first narrator who lies behind Sandra and Mira2
(Brooke-Rose: 1984, 58, 61, 71).
- Consequently, on the one
hand, the various narrators have access, in virtue of
their "transworldliness", to the information stored in
the first narrator, who passes her thoughts, fears,
and knowledge along the spiral of narrative levels to
the various transworld identities she chooses to
assume. On the other, the various characters also seem
to be able to travel freely from one narrative level
to the other, making their text coincide with the
metatext they create each time they address their
creator.
- The dividing line between one
level and another is therefore blurred, and adumbrates
the identification of who the narrator and the
narrated are, in so far as the narrators of each level
accomplish various ontological jumps through which
they reverse the role between themselves and the
characters they create, whom they feel more "real"
than themselves (Brooke-Rose: 1984, 32,
48).
- These ontological jumps are
actually the consequence of the first inversion
between character and narrator which took place when
Mira decided to project herself as a character, and
while they should be read as an acknowledgement of
Brooke-Rose's narrator's fictionality in relation to
the extra-diegetic world, they also should be read as
Mira's acknowledgement of her lack of concreteness in
the world of the novel.
- In the world of
Amalgamemnon, the narrator is in fact deprived
of her identity, and has to substitute the "real"
fictional Mira with the conception that the novel's
society has of her. It is precisely to prevent this
idea from becoming more solid and concrete than
herself - like the characters she creates out of her
imagination - that Mira struggles throughout the text
by identifying with other characters and shifting
identity continually, thus becoming unrecognisable
and, consequently, uncategorisable.
- Throughout the novel, Mira
has in fact to resist the imposition of the "feminine"
identity which the phallocratic society she inhabits
tries to impose upon her obliterating her
individuality and silencing her being. In
Amalgamemnon, however, the feminine is able to
find an expression within the discourse spoken by the
society Mira inhabits, and thanks to her technique of
mimicry, she is able to denounce the phallocratic
approach that Herodotus assumed in his
Histories, which spread the prejudices and
clichés that still dominate society's attitude
towards women, albeit unconsciously, determining the
double standard which is so universally applied that
it has come to be regarded as the norm (Brooke-Rose:
1984, 23, 40, 135).
- It is precisely this
repetitive, brain-washing discourse that Mira is
exposed to throughout Amalgamemnon, and because
the whole novel is centred on the pseudo-future the
Media, and the computerised technology they use,
create by speculating endlessly on every piece of
information they can gather, redundancy (one of the
central concerns of this text) must be understood both
in its social and in its informational sense not only
because in her technological society the humanities
are, as such, redundant, but also because, as a woman,
the narrator is relegated to be the redundant sign in
relation to the male.
- Hence, in this novel
Brooke-Rose suggests that woman has been transformed
by our phallocentric society into a compensatory of
man: woman must feed on the male discourse and simply
re-represent it, for, should she dare to dissent and
carry different information, man would immediately
silence her.
- We can therefore see how by
continually shifting identities Mira opposes the
attempt that society and her lovers make to impose an
identity on her, and her loss of a fixed identity
along the spiral of the many narrative levels the
novel consists of, coincides with her victory over the
system. True, the identities Mira creates for herself
must be deconstructed in the morning and replaced by
the identity of the "semidiotic" woman which will meet
the expectations of society (Brooke-Rose: 1984, 15),
but even though the man "dissembles" her, Mira can
"quietly and secretly reassemble" herself later
(Brooke-Rose: 1984, 48), and is able to assert that
"sooner or later the future will explode into the
present despite the double standard at breaking
points" (Brooke-Rose: 1984, 16).
- Consequently, although she
acknowledges that woman has always been turned into
the "unconscious" and the "Other", Brooke-Rose leaves
hope for her final affirmation, that is for the
"return of the repressed prodigal" to which the novel
repeatedly refers to (Brooke-Rose: 1984, 13), the
return of that which has been repressed and which,
according to Freud, sooner or later finds a voice in
the language of symptoms, dreams and
parapraxes.
- The numerous metalepses that
Brooke-Rose inserts in Amalgamemnon and the
peculiar structure of this text, then, correspond not
only to the way she unsettles her readers in order to
stimulate their reading capacities and demonstrate the
fictionality of the world of the novel, but they also
become the tool through which the narrator can oppose
society's coercive imposition of a fixed identity.
Through the many shifts and variations it has to
endure throughout the text, in fact, this identity is
demonstrated to be non-existent and to be only a
construction of the words spoken by the society Mira
inhabits and of the words that she utters, magically
creating for herself different identities, variable
genealogies and alternative ontological
statuses.
- This is the reason why,
contrary to what some critics have suggested (see for
example Lecercle: 1991), I really think we should
consider the world constructed in this novel as one of
the most admirable examples of what Umberto Eco called
"possible world".
- In Amalgamemnon, the
characters' ontology renders all definition of reality
dubious (therefore identifying the worlds of the novel
as "possible"), in so far as the double fictionality
of everything described in the text is openly asserted
from the very beginning. The text is entirely written
using non-constative, non-realised verbs, and the
imposition of this grammatical constraint puts all
that is described in the text under the sign of
(double) fictionality, enabling her to create a
proleptic novel (Brooke-Rose: 1989, in UOD,
33).
- As a consequence, nothing
actually happens in Amalgamemnon, and contrary
to what reviewers said on publication, its subject is
not "a woman humanities lecturer who is suddenly made
redundant" (Morton: 1984, 10), for Mira's redundancy
is presented from the very beginning as a future
possibility and is never confirmed, thus openly making
the world of the novel "possible".
-
- The
Writerly Text par excellence: the case of
Thru
-
- As I hope the previous
section has suggested, Brooke-Rose's fiction is
therefore heavily influenced by various theories
(structuralist, post-structuralist, feminist and so
on), and although when she began her career as an
experimental writer she hadn't read any theory, after
moving to Paris in 1968, she began to use her novels
to investigate the same problematics that were the
focus of much theoretical discussion developed on the
continent during the same years.
- In particular, as we have
seen, Barthes' writing often seems behind
Brooke-Rose's texts, which could be easily identified
as Barthes' "wtriterly" and "plural" texts. As we have
seen, fundamental to Barthes' notion of the writerly
and plural text is the image of the spiral, which
opposes the staticity of the circle and replaces its
closed course with a more open and dialectic
structure.
- In an attempt to challenge
the reader's models of intelligibility and reveal that
which readers assume to be natural is actually a
product, the writerly text therefore resists
interpretative reduction, showing how the
naturalisation readers pursue is an arbitrary
imposition of meaning.
- Although the creation of a
"world" is, generally speaking, in opposition to the
idea of the writerly (as any conception of "writerly"
relies on the linguistic nature of the text), because
the worlds constructed by Brooke-Rose's novels are,
precisely, "possible", they overtly posit themselves
as a construction of words, and since they continually
resist naturalisation and, through the profound
ambiguity that permeates them, the imposition of an
unambiguous meaning, they can be defined as
writerly.
- Brooke-Rose's elimination of
the narrator (whom she replaces with an anonymous
character who remains throughout completely
undramatised), and the spiral structure she imposes
onto her texts, thus become the primary sources of
resistance, from which derive all other aspects that
make these into writerly texts. In fact, since the
identification of a narrator and the possibility of
designating him/her a proper name are the principal
ways of naturalising fiction, the elimination of the
narrator impedes the text's complete naturalisation,
preventing the reader from recuperating other
fundamentals: often the discourse of the central
character does not enable readers to determine which
events occurred in the text (the true / false
opposition Barthes mentions when describing the
writerly text), which characters are "actual" in the
possible world of the novel, which words have been
spoken and by whom (the Barthesian origin of the
enunciation), and so on.
- Furthermore, the novels'
spiral structure and the characters' discourse itself
- in which different parts of other people's and their
past speeches are brought together, extracted from
their postulated original context and put into a new
context - enable the creation of new connections, thus
expanding, just as in Barthes' plural text, the web of
meanings.
- If Amalgamemnon can be
described as "writerly" in virtue of its structure,
however, the work by Brooke-Rose which represents her
finest example of writerly text is undoubtedly
Thru, where she tries to overcome the split
between the two people she had then become - "teacher
and scholar and critic on the one hand, creative
writer on the other" (Brooke-Rose: 1977, 135) - by
attempting to bring them together in one textual
act.
- The result is a very
demanding text in which the reader encounters textual
blocks on several levels: the many theories to which
the text refers (often anonymously), the ontological
ambiguity enfolding the characters and the novel's
world, and many typographical devices, in particular
various verbal icons which are exploited by the author
to suggest that everything is language, and whose
decipherment brings additional meanings to the
narrative and renders, as with the best writerly
texts, the practical participation of the reader
essential.
- Further to this, Brooke-Rose
centres her entire novel on one of the main features
of the plural text as described by Barthes, namely the
impossibility to answer the question "Who speaks?"
(Barthes: 1968, in Oeuvres Complètes,
vol. II, 491; 1970, in Oeuvres
Complètes, vol. II, 582), and this
inability is closely connected to the Barthesian
notion of "the death of the author" which is
explicitly introduced in the novel (Brooke-Rose: 1975,
693). Just as in Barthes as soon as the author begins
to write s/he loses his/her identity and simply
becomes the one who says "I", the subject who only
exists in the speech-act that defines him/her and who
exists as such only in so far as s/he speaks (Barthes:
1966b, in 1984, 191), so in Thru, in which the
notion of character as a discrete individual is
dismantled, the authors/narrators introduced in the
text are, from the very beginning, simply linguistic
subjects. However, their linguistic nature is
justified not only by the fact that they posit
themselves as the subjects of the enunciation, but
also because they are the linguistic constructions of
someone else.
- Consequently, the lack which
in Barthes lies behind the "I" is asserted more
strongly in Brooke-Rose, in so far as behind the
various "I"s present in the text there is both the
emptiness idiosyncratic to each subject and the
emptiness characteristic of a character as such,
behind which, s/he being fictional, there cannot be a
person but a mere construction of words.
- The various narrators of
Thru being mere linguistic signs, what speaks
is therefore language itself, and just as for Barthes
"by deleting the writer's signature, death founds the
truth of the work, which is enigma" (Barthes: 1966, in
Oeuvres Complètes, vol. II, 42), in Thru
the mystery of the narrator's identity remains
unsolved. The following diagram, in fact - where added
to Derrida's "trace" and "architrace" (1967, 142) we
can reconstruct "story", "mystery", "text", and the
Barthesian "enigma" - openly re-proposes the
problematic identification of the narrator as the
"Mystery of the Eye" (i.e. of the 'I'), and concludes
by asserting the fictional nature of these characters
who are here identified with 'PapYrus
eye's':
-
-
-
- (Brooke-Rose, 1975, 584).
- Thanks to the hermeneutic
delay Barthes would describe in 1970, then, the enigma
of the text will be maintained throughout the novel.
Just as in the best plural texts, in fact, in
Thru the reader is confronted with an
ever-increasing number of voices whose origins remain
ambiguous: not only is the reader unable to identify
the narrator who is speaking at any particular time,
but, more fundamentally, the novel plays with many
theories whose sources are not always identified.
Hence, just like the plural text, Brooke-Rose's novel
becomes a multivalent text constituted by a series of
"quotations without quotation marks", in which
property is transgressed (Barthes: 1970, in Oeuvres
Complètes, vol. II, 584).
- Consequently, the notion of
intertextuality becomes here fundamental, and is
therefore given an iconic representation in the
central image of the driving mirror, which represents
the idea that the author is simply re-handling
preceding texts and that, just as the driver has to
check in the mirror what is happening behind the car
in order to proceed safely forward, so the author, to
advance, has to check and internalise his/her
past.
- The image of the mirror is
actually fundamental in this novel: it is evoked in
the title (reminiscent of Lewis Carroll's Through
the Looking-Glass), it opens and closes the novel,
and is at the basis of the whole play with the
characters' ontological instability.
- The alternation and reversal
between the role of author and that of character could
in fact be read as a game of mirrors which perpetuates
the creation both of the meaning and of the text. In
Thru, language creates in fact more language, and the
deconstructive force of the novel (namely the fact
that the text constructs itself just to destroy itself
as it develops), becomes its generative force, leading
not to the destruction of the text but to the creation
of a different text.
- However, in Thru not
only does the driving mirror reflect, as usual, the
reverse of the original, but also, because of the
anti-glare device we must assume it is provided with,
it has the peculiarity of displacing and distorting
the image it reflects7.
Hence, Brooke-Rose's mirror offers a displaced and
decentred reflection, and it is precisely because of
this displacement effect that the icons miming the
"desegmentation" discussed during a faculty meeting
should also be read as a mirror image in which the
left side is mirrored, and slightly displaced, on the
right:
-
-
- (Brooke-Rose: 1975, 615,
734)
-
- It is in consideration of
these mirror images that this novel, which just like
Amalgamemnon has been until this moment
analysed in terms of circularity, should in my opinion
really be read in relation to a spiral, as this figure
best represents the imperfect coincidence of the
object and its reflection which is fundamental to
Thru. The spiral therefore best represents the
structure at the heart of Thru as well as of
Amalgamemnon, not only because both meaning and
text are continually created thanks to the many shifts
in narrative levels which make it impossible for the
text to go back exactly to where it began, thereby
leaving the work open, but also because even though
the text seems to repeat itself, the paradigms of the
original are slightly altered.
- In this light, then, I would
submit that the visual arrangements of the text such
as this:
-
-
- (Brooke-Rose: 1975,
618/9),
- according to which the
letters floating on the page are not ordered in
circles as it initially seems, but in spirals, and
typographical devices such as printing of parts of the
text from right to left (Brooke-Rose: 1975, 599, 669,
741) or upside down (Brooke-Rose: 1975, 605), not only
stand for Brooke-Rose's insistence on the book's
materiality, but also (and more importantly) function
as the reflected images in which the original gets
displaced and subverted.
-
- Conclusions:
-
- We can therefore see how
Brooke-Rose seems to proceed along a sort of circular
path according to which she first begins with a
critical notion borrowed from Barthes, using it as a
metaphor in her narrative, just to end by going back
to criticism in order to refer to other critical
notions such as "the death of the author" (which she
applies, in a sort of mise en abîme, to
her central characters) and the linguistic nature of
all forms of identity.
- Both in Amalgamemnon
and in Thru, in fact, Brooke-Rose's characters
hint at the fact that language does not simply
represent, but actually creates the Reality it
supposedly describes, pushing into problematic status
the notion of a fixed identity that Western
philosophical tradition has proposed over the
centuries.
- This is actually the main
thematic on which much theory has focussed during the
second half of the twentieth century, and considering
the fact that Brooke-Rose's novels, as I have
suggested above, heavily rely upon theory, her attacks
against those same theories (for example in her
critical articles), and her harsh attitude towards
virtually all her critics (whom, she maintains, rather
than bringing her texts alive through what she calls
"old fashioned" criticism, most of the time do nothing
else but submerge her texts by learned references to a
multitude of theories), actually comes as a
surprise.
- In fact, although on some
level Brooke-Rose's work is characterised by a general
attitude of demystification which, after her move to
France, became increasingly directed towards a number
of theories whose dogmatism and over-systematization
she wanted to expose, her aesthetic attraction towards
theory and her interest in beautiful systems, which
she can use and play against one another, cannot (and
should not) be denied.
- Hence, if theoretically
Brooke-Rose, together with other postmodernists,
questions the legitimacy of criticism's reliance on
"theory", implicitly positing once again the question
of whether literary criticism is doomed to be
permanently a sort of "servant" of literature (the
creative writer enjoying privileges which are denied
to the critic), practically it is indubitable that her
(as well as others') texts themselves justify the
critic's reference to theory.
- Obviously, these references
cannot and should not be used simply as "references",
that is something which remains outside the text. In
this case, in fact, rather than throw some light onto
the text itself, these references simply become
useless and irrelevant pieces of information which are
left to float in midair, above (or maybe underneath)
the text and not, as it should be, in the text. A
competent textual analysis is generally the product of
the whole encyclopaedia of the critic, which means
that theoretical notions should find their place
within the punctual analysis of the text under
examination8.
- If this is so, it is because
(to answer some of the questions I raised at the
beginning of this paper) the metaphors used in
literature (at least in a certain kind of literary
texts such as Brooke-Rose's) are definitely influenced
by the ones employed by critics, in the same way that
the metaphors employed in criticism are influenced by
those writers use. I think in fact that there is no
doubt that these metaphors and images are contagious:
images of spirals, towers of Babel, labyrinths... all
these have become part of the imaginary exploited by
both creative writers and critics.
- If on the one hand criticism
characterises itself as a response to literature and
its metaphors9, on the other literature (in particular
the experimental novels of authors such as Anthony
Burgess, Alasdair Gray, Gabriel Josipovici, Rayner
Heppenstall and, obviously, Christine Brooke-Rose
herself), becomes a means to explore critical and
theoretical notions, while making the general public
partake, at least in part, of that knowledge which was
originally only open to academics.
- This phenomenon - literature
penetrating criticism and, conversely, criticism
penetrating literature - should therefore be seen as
part of the popularisation of culture which, contrary
to the more pessimistic views, in the hands of our
most capable writers can actually revive (just as the
technological revolution) literature
itself.
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