Ce ne fut que vers 1833, lors de la publication de son MĂ©decin de campagne, quâil pensa Ă relier tous ses personnages pour en former une sociĂ©tĂ© complĂšte. Le jour oĂč il fut illuminĂ© de cette idĂ©e fut un beau jour pour lui! [âŠ]
â Saluez-moi, nous dit-il joyeusement, car je suis tout bonnement en train de devenir un gĂ©nie!1 [1858]
[It was not until around 1833, when his MĂ©decin de campagne was being published, that he thought of connecting all his characters in order to create an entire society out of them. The day on which this idea visited him was a great day for him! [âŠ]
â Hail me, he told us joyfully, for I am quite simply about to become a genius!]
Cette prĂ©tention lâa finalement conduit Ă une idĂ©e des plus fausses et, selon moi, des plus contraires Ă lâintĂ©rĂȘt, je veux dire Ă faire reparaĂźtre sans cesse dâun roman Ă lâautre les mĂȘmes personnages, comme des comparses dĂ©jĂ connus. Rien ne nuit plus Ă la curiositĂ© qui naĂźt du nouveau et Ă ce charme de lâimprĂ©vu qui fait lâattrait du roman. On se retrouve Ă tout bout de champ en face des mĂȘmes visages.2 [1846]
[This aspiration has eventually led him to a most false notion which, in my opinion, could not be more incompatible with the interest of the readerâI mean the notion to make the same characters reappear incessantly, from one novel to the next, as if they were well-known supporting actors. Nothing endangers more the curiosity which is born of novelty and the charm of the unpredictability that attracts us to the novel. At every turn, we find ourselves running into the same faces.]
These two diametrically opposed views on the reappearance of characters are expressed by
Balzacâs sister and his greatest critic within twelve years of each other. While Laure Survilleâs
narrative can be seen as unreliable
3 or biased, it can also be said to reflect a critical judgement that became a
locus communis, at least after Balzac had been canonised in the second half of the nineteenth century.
4 As such, it does not sound surprising to a twenty-first-century reader: the reappearance of characters is largely believed to have been Balzacâs inventionâand a highly original one, for that matter. In this context, Sainte
-Beuveâs denial of its originality and, along with it, of Balzacâs
genius , could be attributed to his notoriously resentful attitude towards the author of
La Comédie humaine; however
, the idea that the
reappearance of characters was an instance of highly unoriginal repetition was shared by Balzacâs reviewers during his lifetime (as I shall have the opportunity to show in Chap.
2), creating the impression that Balzacâs production was an example of what one of his critics termed âla littĂ©rature ruminanteâ [ruminating literature].
5 Balzac was not the first writer to force his characters to transcend the finis of the works that contained them. The device is as old as the modern novel itself: it occurs in Don Quixote and it can be traced up to Balzacâs immediate predecessors (for instance RĂ©tif de la Bretonne) and to Balzacâs own Ćuvres de jeunesse. Even though the reappearance of characters was not Balzacâs invention, he certainly systematised it to an unprecedented degree; rather than producing a few novels which contained a recurring protagonist, from 1834 onwards, Balzac designed his work as a network of characters which can rise from a secondary to a protagonistic role or vice versa. This systematisation of the reappearance of characters did not limit itself to Balzacâs work. From Balzacâs La ComĂ©die humaine and Zolaâs Les Rougon-Macquart to series or cycles of novels by Alexandre Dumas, Jules Verne and Ponson du Terrail, nineteenth-century fiction in general favours characters which refuse to be contained in a single work. Such popular characters would often cross the boundaries of genre: Balzacâs first play to be staged , Vautrin, focuses on the eponymous criminal genius of La ComĂ©die humaine, while Alexandre Dumas, Ămile Zola , and Jules Verne adapted their novels for the stage. In fact, this ârecyclingâ of fictional characters was not a privilege reserved to their creators: the nineteenth century witnesses a proliferation of imitations , stage adaptations, sequels , and cycles of novels which were not written by the authors of the original works.
The term âretour de personnagesâ is usually reserved only for some instances of reappearing characters: in the case of canonical novelists, such as Balzac and Zola , it is seen as an aesthetic device that ensures the unity of their Ćuvre. By contrast, more ephemeral contemporary adaptations for the stage and sequels which are based on their works are usually considered to be instances of commercial exploitation of their success, while similar commercial motives are attributed to the reappearance of characters in the work of more popular authors such as Dumas . Such a distinction is not only anachronistic (since it is based on the perceived value of the works after the nineteenth century) and arbitrary (since both artistic and commercial motives apply in all cases) but also obscures the unity of all forms of reappearing characters from a nineteenth-century perspective: whether in Balzac and Zola , or in appropriations of their work, the reappearance of characters was seen as a form of repetition, incompatible with claims to originality . In this context, the co-examination of, on the one hand, the status of such appropriations and the notions of imitation , plagiarism , and piracy (which were used to describe them) and, on the other, the lack of originality detected by critics in âle retour de personnagesâ will allow me to illuminate not only the phenomenon of the reappearance of characters but also the very notions of authorship, the fictional character, and originality in the nineteenth century.
Originality is one of a series of aesthetic ideas whose gradual crystallisation in eighteenth-century Europe, in the wake of the quarrel of the ancients and the moderns, undermined the (neo)classical poetics of mimesis and turned the attention of literary criticism from the rules according to which a text is supposed to be constructed and from the effect it has on the reader to the author. The increasing importance of the author as an exceptional individual who breaks his ties with tradition is part of the rise of individualism in domains beyond aesthetics: charismatic individuals are gradually being depicted in the eighteenth century as beings apart, possessing god-like qualitiesâa development often seen as filling the gap created by the diminishing power of religion in the age of Enlightenment.6 The idea of genius as a leader of men, a legislator, a prophet, and a revolutionary entailed a radical transformation of the notion of the author. By the end of the eighteenth century, the latter had been transformed from a craftsman who had a specific place in society (either because he was a man of means writing at his leisure or because he was supported by a patron) to an inspired individual,7 a genius , who was increasingly portrayed as being at odds with his class, his society, his time, and his readers. The term genius no longer meant simply a quality one possesses (âun homme de gĂ©nieâ) but also the individual as such (âun gĂ©nieâ)8 who is supposed to create and invent, rather than imitate, to follow no rules and have no models, whose main faculty is imagination and whose main quality is originality.9 This turn towards the author has been seen as a reaction to the development of the literary marketplace: the notions of genius , originality, disinterested art, as well as the very discipline of aesthetics were responses to the anxiety caused by the incipient professionalisation and increasing commercialisation of authorship.10
In the eighteenth century, the notion of originality seems to have been more enthusiastically received in England than in France,11 where, in the context of neoclassical poetics, originality played a limited role, guaranteeing a certain variation and novelty within the limits of mimesis. When used in reference to individuals, the term âoriginalâ had negative connotations of eccentricity.12 The modern concept of originality, in the sense of absolute novelty incompatible with imitation , was shaped during the period 1740â1770.13 The more the concepts of genius and originality detached themselves from neoclassical poetics, the more abstract they became: Roland Mortier notes that, in the eighteenth century, âlâoriginalitĂ© est tenue pour une Ă©vidence ressentie comme telle, pour une expĂ©rience qui Ă©chappe Ă lâanalyse et Ă la dĂ©monstrationâ14 [originality is seen as an obvious fact which is perceived as such, as an experience which cannot be analysed nor demonstrated]. In fact, both concepts were usually defined in terms of what they are not, rather than what they are: Edward Young, in his Conjectures on Original Composition (1759), the most emblematic and influential essay on originality (translated for the first time in French in 1769â1770), refuses to define originality and structures his essay by means of an opposition between the âoriginalâ author and the âimitatorâ.15 Ann Jefferson has recently traced the history of genius in France from the eighteenth century onwards, arguing that the transformations of the concept can be grasped by considering the notions to which it is opposed, its âothersâ.16 One of these concepts throughout the eighteenth and the nineteenth centuries is women: genius and, by extension, originality are considered to be male qualities, with the male artist seen as a second creator, a rival to God, and women pronounced incapable of being geniuses or even the very opposite of genius.17
Despite the vagueness that characterises t...