Style and Rhetoric of Short Narrative Fiction

Covert Progressions Behind Overt Plots

Dan Shen

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2013
• ISBN:
  9781136202414
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Literature
• Subtopic: Literary Criticism
• Index: Literature

In many fictional narratives, the progression of the plot exists in tension with a very different and powerful dynamic that runs, at a hidden and deeper level, throughout the text. In this volume, Dan Shen systematically investigates how stylistic analysis is indispensable for uncovering this covert progression through rhetorical narrative criticism. The book brings to light the covert progressions in works by the American writers Edgar Allan Poe, Stephan Crane and Kate Chopin and British writer Katherine Mansfield.

Part I
Style and Covert Progressions in American Short Fiction

1
Style, Unreliability, and Hidden Dramatic Irony

Poe’s “The Tell-Tale Heart”

Of the three short stories by American authors investigated in Part One, Edgar Allan Poe’s “The Tell-Tale Heart” (1843) was published earliest, and it is the only one in character narration. I will start with revealing an ethically oriented covert progression in this narrative, primarily through analyzing the stylistic patterning in the tale’s structural unity. This covert progression has much to do with Poe’s ingenious use of narratorial unreliability, especially the complex interplay between the unreliable and the reliable as encoded in the same words of the narrator, which helps convey an overall dramatic irony with implicit ethical import. I anticipate immediate objection to my attempt at unraveling the hidden ethical import of this narrative since generations of critics have believed that Poe is not concerned with ethics but aesthetics (see, for instance, Buranelli 1961; Cleman 1991; Polonsky 2002). In view of this, I will first offer a discussion of Poe’s theory of prose fiction to pave the way for the analysis.

Poe’s Theory of Prose Fiction

The current ethical turn in narrative studies suggests a congenial context in which to clear up a long-term misunderstanding about Poe’s view on prose fiction. Critics widely held that Poe’s aestheticism covers prose fiction as well as poetry (see below), but in effect, Poe holds a non-aesthetic view of the subject matter of prose fiction. In this genre, Poe makes an unequivocal distinction between structural design and subject matter. While putting the structural design of prose fiction completely on a par with that of poetry (both confined to the aesthetic trajectory), Poe treats the subject matter of prose fiction as different in nature from that of poetry—as often based on Truth and diametrically opposed to Beauty. Commenting on Nathaniel Hawthorne’s Twice-Told Tales (1842), Poe observes:

We have said that the tale has a point of superiority even over the poem. In fact, while the rhythm of this latter is an essential aid in the development of the poem’s highest idea—the idea of the Beautiful—the artificialities of this rhythm are an inseparable bar to the development of all points of thought or expression which have their basis in Truth. But Truth is often, and in very great degree, the aim of the tale…. The writer of the prose tale, in short, may bring to his theme a vast variety of modes or inflections of thought and expression—(the ratiocinative, for example, the sarcastic or the humorous) which are not only antagonistical to the nature of the poem, but absolutely forbidden by one of its most peculiar and indispensable adjuncts; we allude of course, to rhythm. It may be added, here, par parenthèse, that the author who aims at the purely beautiful in a prose tale is laboring at great disadvantage. For Beauty can be better treated in the poem. (Poe 1984a: 573)

According to Poe, it is in effect the genre-specific “rhythm” that makes Beauty “the sole legitimate province of the poem” (Poe 1984b: 16), while the prose tale is open to a wide range of thematic materials that “have their basis in Truth” and are “antagonistical” to Beauty.¹ Poe’s “Truth,” though, has a much wider application than “Truth” in what Poe calls “the heresy of The Didactic”—the assumption “that the ultimate object of all Poetry is Truth” and that “Truth” simply means the inculcation of a moral (Poe 1984c: 75). For Poe, however, “Truth” constitutes the basis for a wide range of modes of thought and expression, including but not confined to the ethical.

This non-aesthetic thematic conception has been blocked from critical view by Poe’s consistent aesthetic conception of formal design.² For Poe all works of literary art should achieve the most important “unity of effect” (Poe 1984a: 571). In order to obtain structural unity, the writer of a prose narrative, like the writer of a poem, should preconceive a single effect and then invent and combine events for this “pre-established design.” Moreover, in order to preserve unity of effect, a prose narrative, like a poem, should be fairly short, able to “be read at one sitting” (1984a: 572).

Since behind Poe’s consistent emphasis on aesthetic formal design lies his non-aesthetic conception of the tale’s subject matter, Poe regards Hawthorne’s work as an exemplar of good prose writing, and he readily stresses Hawthorne’s ethical concerns (Poe 1984a: 574–75). One tale by Hawthorne that Poe (ibid.: 574) particularly appreciates and praises is “Wakefield,” which is marked by strong ethical concerns. The omniscient narrator welcomes the reader “to ramble with [him] through the twenty years of Wakefield’s vagary” in order to find the “moral” of Wakefield’s marital delinquency (Hawthorne 1974: 131). The narrator, from an ethical position superior to that of the protagonist, persuades his reader of the morbid vanity, selfishness, and ruthlessness that underlie Wakefield’s folly. Although Poe, out of a strong concern for dramatic effects, avoided such explicit moral teaching by an omniscient narrator, he has in some of his tales, such as “The Tell-Tale Heart,” implicitly and subtly conveyed a moral through subtle stylistic choices in a unified structural design.

Poe’s insistent emphasis on aesthetic structural unity has caused many critics to overlook his non-aesthetic and ethically related conception of the subject matter of prose fiction. This underlies the widely held view of Poe as being closely associated, in the domain of prose fiction as well as that of poetry, with “Art for Art’s sake.” Critics have argued that “Poe banished ‘the didactic’ from the proper sphere of art” and that there is “an apparent lack of interest in moral themes throughout Poe’s work” (Moldenhauer 1968: 285; Cleman 1991: 623). Vincent Buranelli more specifically asserts that “sin and crime are absent from” Poe’s fictional world, because “Poe does not touch morality” and “the terrible deeds that abound there are matters of psychology, abnormal psychology, not of ethics” (1961: 72).

John Cleman extends Poe’s “aesthetic” of poetry to prose narrative and then differentiates between the two genres only in terms of aesthetic concerns: “To some degree, this seeming indifference to moral issues can be explained by Poe’s aesthetic in which the ‘Moral Sense,’ ‘Conscience,’ and ‘Duty’ have, at best, ‘only collateral relations’ with the primary concerns: for poetry ‘The Rhythmical Creation of Beauty,’ and for prose fiction ‘the unity of effect or impression’” (Cleman 1991: 623–24).³ Such differentiation between the two genres is undesirable since, in Poe’s view, “the unity of effect or impression” is as important for poetry as for prose fiction. The real difference between the two genres lies in aim or subject matter: Beauty for poetry, and Truth for prose fiction.

When critics acknowledge Poe’s concern with “Truth” in prose narrative, they tend simply to drag it into the aesthetic trajectory. John S. Whit-ley, for instance, writes: “While the highest idea of a poem is the idea of the Beautiful, Poe argues that the aim of the tale is Truth…. but perhaps by ‘Truth’ he really meant the working of every part of the story—rhythm, plot, character, language, references—towards a denouement which ends the story logically, consistently and satisfactorily” (2000: xii). Thus, Poe’s separation of the structural design and subject matter of the tale is unwittingly transformed into a unified conception hinging solely on the unity of effect. Joseph J. Moldenhauer, even as he challenges the traditional view that Poe disregarded morality, is still confined to structural unity: “According to Poe, the supreme criterion for the literary performance is not truthfulness, moral or otherwise, but rather unity” (1968: 286). Like many other critics, Moldenhauer puts the genre of prose fiction completely on a par with poetry, and, in challenging the traditional view of Poe’s disregard for morality in literature, he limits his discussion to what Poe means by “Beauty,” treating the subject matter of poetry as the subject matter of literature in general (ibid.: 286–89). As a result, Moldenhauer’s effort to bring morality back to Poe’s theory of literature—through “aesthetic super-morality” (ibid.: 289)—only adds to the misunderstanding of Poe’s view on the subject matter of prose fiction.

Keeping Poe’s non-aesthetic conception of the tale’s subject matter in mind, I now proceed to an investigation of the “The Tell-Tale Heart.”

Covert Progression and Overall Dramatic Irony

As mentioned in the Introduction, “The Tell-Tale Heart” presents a neurotic narrator’s account of his premeditated murder of an old man and finally his compelled admission of the crime because he hears his victim’s relentless heartbeat in front of the policemen.⁴ This plot development has attracted the attention of numerous critics, who have discussed its various aspects through diversified approaches, especially psychoanalysis since the mid-twentieth century (see below). I approach the tale from a different angle, attempting to reveal, through tracing the stylistic patterning in the narrative’s structural unity, a covert progression marked by an overall dramatic irony with significant ethical import.

In expounding his theory of the “unity of effect,” Poe stresses the importance of the dénouement of the literary work. The writer should have the dénouement constantly in view, and every plot “must be elaborated to its dénouement before any thing be attempted with the pen” (Poe 1984b: 13). In view of Poe’s emphasis on the dénouement, I start with the ending of “The Tell-Tale Heart”:

No doubt I now grew very pale; but I talked more fluently, and with a heightened voice. Yet the sound [the heartbeat of the victim] increased—and what could I do? It was a low, dull, quick sound—much such a sound as a watch makes when enveloped in cotton. I gasped for breath—and yet the officers heard it not. I talked more quickly—more vehemently; but the noise steadily increased. I arose and argued about trifles, in a high key and with violent gesticulations; but the noise steadily increased. Why would they not be gone? I paced the floor to and fro with heavy strides, as if excited to fury by the observations of the men— but the noise steadily increased. Oh God! what could I do? I foamed—I raved— I swore! I swung the chair upon which I had been sitting, and grated it upon the boards, but the noise arose over all and continually increased. It grew louder—louder—louder! And still the men chatted pleasantly, and smiled. Was it possible they heard not? Almighty God!—no, no! They heard!—they suspected!—they knew!—they were making a mockery of my horror!—this I thought, and this I think. But anything was better than this agony! Anything was more tolerable than this derision! I could bear those hypocritical smiles no longer! I felt that I must scream or die! and now— again!—hark! louder! louder! louder! louder!—

“Villains!” I shrieked, “dissemble no more! I admit the deed!—tear up the planks! here, here!—It is the beating of his hideous heart!” (Poe 1984d: 559, italics original and underlining added)⁵

After killing the old man, the protagonist dismembers the corpse and hides it under the floorboards. Three policemen come to search the house and the protagonist answers their questions “cheerily” and feels “singularly at ease” (559). They are now at the very spot where the corpse is buried. As regards the plot development, in this climactic title scene, attention tends to be focused on the underlined words. These words show that the protagonist is pursued by his victim’s heart as a tool or symbol of revenge (see below), a fantastic heart that dramatically starts beating again when the murderer is in a most confident, triumphant, and cheery mood. The heart, by beating louder and louder, deprives the cold-blooded and marble-hearted murderer of his after-murder ease in front of the policemen, making him increasingly irritated and horrified. The sound eventually compels the murderer to admit his crime (“again!—hark! louder! louder! louder! louder! … I admit the deed! … It is the beating of his hideous heart!”). The final sentence of the narrative—“It is the beating of his hideous heart!”—echoes its title, “The Tell-Tale Heart.”

But if we open our minds to more than one textual progression and examine carefully the stylistic choices in this passage and in the structural unity of the narrative as a whole, we may descry that what we have here is also the dénouement of a covert progression behind the plot development: The narrator-protagonist is the only dissembling person in the whole textual sequence and he keeps gloating over his own immoral dissimulation. In this final scene, he unconsciously projects his own dissemblance onto the policemen and finds the projected dissemblance increasingly unbearable, which leads to his downfall (“Anything was more tolerable than this derision! I could bear those hypocritical smiles no longer! I felt that I must scream or die! … ‘Villains!’ I shrieked, ‘dissemble no more! I admit the deed!’”). In this light, the protagonist’s condemnation of the unsuspecting policemen— “Villains! … dissemble no more!”—amounts to unwitting self-condemnation. That is to say, the covert progression is marked by dramatic irony with a significant ethical dimension: implicitly telling us how one’s self-satisfying dissemblance leads to one’s downfall.

Within the crucial ending of the narrative, we can discern the stylistic patterning at the dénouement of the covert progression in three steps. At the first step, a series of verbal processes and their adjuncts interact to represent the protagonist’s increasingly intensive efforts to cover up the victim’s heart beating in order to dissemble innocence: “talked more fluently, and with a heightened voice,” “talked more quickly—more vehemently,” “argued about trifles, in a high key and with violent gesticulations,” “I foamed—I raved—I swore!” This is reinforced by three action processes and their adjuncts, “I paced the floor [where the victim is buried] to and fro with heavy strides, as if excited to fury … and grated [the chair] upon the boards.” At the second step, we have the stylistic choices describing the narrator-protagonist’s ungrounded suspicion about the policemen’s dissemblance, including his self-questioning “Was it possible they heard not?” and his exclamatory assertion in free indirect discourse: “Almighty God!—no, no! They heard!—they suspected!—they knew!—they were making a mockery of my horror!—this I thought, and this I think.” At the last step, we have the stylistic choices depicting the narrator-protagonist’s reaction to what he takes to be the policemen’s hypocrisy: “Anything was more tolerable than this derision! I could bear those hypocritical smiles no longer! I felt that I must scream or die!” “‘Villains!’ I shrieked, ‘dissemble no more! I admit the deed!’” The last shriek functions as a boomerang against the narrator-protagonist who is the only “hypocritical” “villain” in the whole narrative.

In contrast with the plot development where the underlined words in the above quotation are of most significance, in the covert progression only the stylistic choices singled out here receive emphasis, and the underlined words become much less important with the exception of “I admit the deed!” which is significant both to the covert progression and to the plot development.

Our perception of the covert textual progression significantly changes our interpretive, ethical, and aesthetic judgments as based on the plot development. Interpretively, we come to see more thematic relevance of the stylistic choices that depict the narrator’s gloating over his own dissimulation and his wrong perception and reporting of the policemen’s “dissemblance.” This helps us gain a fuller and better view of his unreliable narration on all the three axes: facts, values, and perception (see Phelan 2005; see also Shen “Unreliability” in The Living Handbook of Narratology). In terms of our ethical judgment, instead of seeing the narrator-protagonist only as a psychological figure, we come to discern him as a butt of implicit ethical irony, which greatly increases the narrative distance between him and us. Aesthetically, we newly perceive the artistic value of various textual details behind their trivial or digressive appearance as they gradually fall into place in the covert progression.

Now, with the crucial ending in mind, we come to explore the earlier stages of the covert progression. The character narrator begins to tell the murdering process by arguing, “You fancy me mad. Madmen know nothing. But you should have seen how wisely I proceeded—with what caution— with what foresight—with what dissimulation I went to work!” (555). Previous critics have taken the last sentence only as the narrator’s assertion of his being sane (see, for instance, Robinson 1965: 369; Nesbitt 2000: 239) or as indicating the need for the protagonist to be “cautious” in his Oedipal revenge on “the father” (Bonaparte 1949: 492). But if we open our minds to a textual undercurrent, we may discover that this is the beginning of the covert progression towards the narrator-protagonist’s unconscious condemnation of his own dissemblance. In this sentence, the words “wisely,” “caution,” and “foresight” (referring partly to his well-prepared concealment of the corpse) all point to the narrator-protagonist’s belief in his own cunning. Further, the term “dissimulation,” which functions to define the preceding words, more explicitly refers to his dissemblance.

In what follows, behind the plot development focusing on ...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Title
• Copyright
• Dedication
• Contents
• Foreword
• Acknowledgments
• Introduction
• PART I Style and Covert Progressions in American Short Fiction
• PART II Style and Different Forms of Covert Progression in Mansfield’s Fiction
• Coda
• Notes
• Works Cited
• Index