7 Charles E. May (ed.), The New Short Story Theories (Athens: Ohio University Press, 1994), Introduction, p. xxiii. Mayâs use of the terms âfableâ and âexemplumâ draws on an earlier essay by Karl-Heinz Stierle, âStory as Exemplum_ Exemplum as Storyâ (1979). Other critics have pointed to American writers of the 1830s and 1840s as the point of origin for new thinking on short fiction, considering the emergent talents of Edgar Allan Poe, Nathaniel Hawthorne, and Herman Melville as the decisive factors. Largely because of Poeâs embryonic but highly influential theorising on the subject, these last two decades have come to be viewed as one of the most significant points at which short fiction began to emerge as a modern form. In April and May 1842, Poe wrote two reviews of Hawthorneâs Twice-Told Tales for Grahamâs Magazinein which he argued that âthe Taleâ, as he termed short prose fiction, constituted the highest literary form available to an authorâone, indeed, that was superior to the novel since a tale could be read in one sitting and thus hold complete sway over the reader for its duration. Furthermore, according to Poe, a tale should be written with its âunity of effectâ uppermost in the authorâs mind at all times. No word or sentence should be included that did not further this predetermined set of intentions, which were calculated to bring about certain responses in the reader. While subsequent critics of short fiction have seldom accepted Poeâs theories in their entirety, certain aspects of his argument are embedded in twentieth-century thinking about the genre. The conception of short fiction as a highly-wrought literary mode (the prose equivalent of a lyric poem) and the argument that shorter tales should not be viewed as inhabiting a lower echelon of the literary hierarchy than the novel have proved extremely popular within criticism of a genre that often displays an inferiority complex and has struggled to legitimise its brevity.
By re-imagining the role and the potential of short fiction, Poeâs work (both critical and literary) has come to be seen as marking a crucial juncture in the history of the genre. The short fiction of Poe, Hawthorne, and Melville, and the increased output and rapid development of the form in America in the mid-nineteenth century are often considered to dominate the formation of the modern concept of anglophone short fiction. There is without doubt a strong argument that substantial strides in the writing and appreciation of short fiction took place in the works of these American authors, as the limitations and strengths of short narratives were subjected to more deliberate experimentation. In addition, the British writers of the mid- and late-Victorian period who are given centrality by Wendell Harris were indebted to the progress of the Americans. Authors from the mid-century onward, therefore, not only ushered in a significant increase in output, but also accelerated progress in the understanding of the potential artistic capacity of short fiction and helped create a truly modern form.
In spite of the importance of the American short story boom and its Victorian heirs, my contention is that the focus on the mid-to-late century inevitably marginalises a large part of the history of the genre. Such an attitude is arguably a result of reading backwardsâof criticising the short fiction of the earlier part of the century in light of both the Victorian short story and the theorisation of the genre that took place after the 1840s. The short fiction produced in Britain during the early nineteenth century deserves more critical attention than it has so far received, and the practice of mapping generic change should not simply be a case of tracing significant influences. The process of historical analysis should encompass not only the trends and qualities that came to define the later stages of a genre, but should also give attention to innovative modes and sub-genres that failed to germinate and remain peculiar to their own era. The rush to point to the first, best, and most significant can lead to quick assumptions and easy dismissals of texts and writers whose contributions, though quieter than othersâ, were examples of widespread practice at the time of writing and which are still immensely valuable to critics when looking back at the literature of an earlier era.
The assumption of a relative lack of literary merit is one way in which modern criticism has limited readings of early-nineteenth-century short fiction, but it is not the only way. A second somewhat pernicious critical supposition involves locating short fiction within the rather nebulous notion of an archetypal Romantic text. By situating early-nineteenth-century short fiction in comparison to an idealised external mode an unrealisable opposition is set up. The fiction of the early part of the century seldom conforms to the aesthetic values and concepts of art that literary critics have attributed to the poets and philosophers of the Romantic period. In spite of this, some studies of short fiction have sought to locate its early-nineteenth-century incarnation within a poetic Romantic tradition. Charles May, one of the most important and influential modern short story theorists, conflates the aesthetic concerns of Romantic-era short fiction with those of poetry, and attempts to imbue the genre with a peculiarly Wordsworthian sensibility and a history similar to that of the lyric poemâin effect giving short fiction a similar ideology to that expressed by Wordsworth in his 1802 Preface to Lyrical Ballads. I quote at length here, because Mayâs argument encapsulates an entire way of thinking about early-nineteenth-century short fiction:
The romantics attempted to demythologize folktales, to divest them of their external values, and to remythologize them by internalizing those values and self-consciously projecting them onto the external world. They wished to preserve the old religious values of the romance and the folktale without their religious dogma and supernatural trappings. Understanding that stories were based on psychic processes, they secularized the mythic by foregrounding their subjective and projective nature. The folktale, which previously had existed seemingly in vacuo as a received story not influenced by the teller, became infused with the subjectivity of the poet and projected onto the world as a new mythos. Value existed in the external world, but, as the romantics never forgot, only because it existed first within the imagination of the artist. Just as the uniting of folktale material with the voice of an individual perceiver in a concrete situation gave rise to the romantic lyric, as Robert Langbaum has shown, the positioning of a real speaker in a concrete situation, encountering a specific phenomenon that his own subjectivity transforms from the profane into the sacred, gave rise to the short story.8
8 Charles E. May, The Short Story: The Reality of Artifice (New York: Twayne, 1995), p. 5. To a large extent this account is wishful thinking, and it is certainly an over-generalisation which is not borne out when reading the vast majority of Romantic-era short fiction. The notion of a clear-cut and homogeneous Romantic tradition of the short story does not exist. The writers who placed short fiction in anything like the role that May here broadly attributes to âthe romanticsâ were few and far between, and there is often little sense of a collective ideology, even amongst those writers whose works are connected thematically, stylistically, or geographically.
To try and connect short fiction to a poetic Romantic tradition is a fraught process. There are few meaningful overlaps between the fiction and the poetry of the period, and while some writers, such as James Hogg, produced a variety of works in different genres that can all be connected to a notion of Romanticism, it does not follow that generic ideolog...