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## Meet the editor

Asun López-Varela Azcárate is an associate professor at Universidad Complutense Madrid, Spain. Her research interests are comparative literature, cultural studies and cognitive and intermedial semiotics. Since 2007, she has been coordinating the university's research program Studies on Intermediality as Intercultural Mediation (SIIM). She has been awarded various grants, including a Fulbright Visiting Scholarship at Harvard

University. A proactive member of the profession, Dr. López-Varela is currently vice-chair of the European Commission Marie Skłodowska-Curie Postdoctoral Fellowships, Social Sciences and Humanities panel. She is also a coordinator and chief editor at the New Directions in the Humanities Network. To strengthen relations between Europe and Asia, Dr. López-Varela coordinates an annual seminar series on cross-cultural dialogue and sustainability funded by the Eurasia Foundation.

### Contents


## Preface

*Comparative Literature – Interdisciplinary Considerations* contributes to the field of comparative literature by expanding its boundaries and exploring new avenues of inquiry. The book's chapters bring forth innovative approaches and perspectives, incorporating interdisciplinary methods and offering fresh insights into the relationship between literature, culture, and society. These studies provide a deeper understanding of how literature interacts with other art forms, how it is influenced by historical and societal contexts, and how it shapes cultural identity. The interdisciplinary nature of the collection fosters dialogue between different disciplines, furthering the understanding of the complex interplay between literature, art, and culture. Overall, this collection provides valuable contributions to comparative literature, deepening our understanding and encouraging further exploration in the field.

My introductory chapter, "Perspective Chapter: Intermedial Comparative Literature – From the Sister-Arts Debate to the Twentieth-Century Avant-Gardes", provides a comprehensive overview of the development of ekphrastic exchanges among various art forms, known as the sister-arts, leading up to the emergence of the concept of the total work of art (Gesamtkunstwerk) and the artistic syncretism found in the 20th-century avant-gardes. The discussion is situated within the context of technological advancements and intermedial studies, an interdisciplinary field that integrates semiotics, communication studies, comparative literature, and other related disciplines. The chapter primarily focuses on significant technological transformations that have influenced the examination of the relationship between comparative literature and other artistic endeavors. Notably, it does not delve into the realm of digital convergence, which is explored in another book, *The Intermediality of Contemporary Visual Arts*.

Biofiction is a unique genre of literature that blends history and fiction by taking historical lives and reimagining them within a fictional framework. Unlike traditional biographies or historical accounts, biofiction uses historical characters as subjects rather than directly representing them. Chapter 2, "Biofiction and History: A Comparative Reading of the Lives of Captain Cook, Sultan Selim III, and Kuchuk Huseyin Pasha" by Gönül Bakay, looks at the notable example of successful biofiction by Anna Enquist, *The Homecoming* (2005), which focuses on the remarkable life of Thomas Cook, but tells the story from the perspective of his wife, Elizabeth Cook. By reconstructing the voices of these historical figures, the reader gains alternative insights into their lives and the context of the British Empire in the 18th century. In contrast, Stanford Shaw's highly regarded book *Between Old and New* (1971) is a historical account that aims to provide an accurate portrayal of the 18th-century Ottoman Empire, particularly during the reign of Sultan Selim III. Seeking to demonstrate how the choice of genre influences the portrayal of historical figures, the chapter explores the similarities and differences in the depictions of these historical figures from the points of view of biofiction and history, respectively.

Chapter 3, "'The Writing of the Empire': Economies of Writing and 'Otherness' in Henri Fauconnier's *Malaisie*" by Kenneth Surin, explores the development of colonial and postcolonial literature. Typically, the progression of these literature is categorized into three phases: (1) a phase where works are produced by representatives of the colonial order who possess the privilege of being white and European; (2) a subsequent phase where texts are created by natives who are culturally assimilated into the colonial order and are bound by its dominant influences as a condition for engaging in literary production; and (3) a phase that emerges after World War II, characterized by independent postcolonial literatures that challenge Western superiority. However, there are texts produced in the first phase that do not conform to the expected features associated with that phase. The author suggests that these periodizations fail to account for a particular type of "Western" text in which the author undergoes transformation, immersing themselves in possibilities that challenge established notions of "being Western." By drawing on the works of de Certeau and Edward Said, the author presents an analysis of Henri Fauconnier's 1930 French-language novel *Malaisie*, which won the Prix Goncourt. This analysis introduces the concept of "paracoloniality," highlighting aspects that tend to be overlooked in discussions of colonial and postcolonial literature.

Chapter 4, "The Captive Nations in Malay and Persian Travel Narratives" by Firuz-Akhtar Lubis and Rahman Zaizul Ab, explores two fictionalized travel narratives: the Persian travelogue *Siyāḥatnāmah-ʾi Ibrāhīm Bayg* by Zayn al-*ʿ*Abidīn Marāghah-ī, and the Malay travelogue *Kesah Pelayaran Abdullah* by Abdullah Munshi. The researchers examine how both narratives present unfavorable commentaries about their respective nations based on the authors' observations during their travels. These narratives convey complex messages through dialogues, intertextual quotes, and various analogies. Paradoxically, the negative remarks about the nations serve as a wake-up call, raising awareness about the true state of the nations. Initially published anonymously, *Siyāḥatnāmah-ʾi Ibrāhīm Bayg* gained recognition for its significance in the country's revolution. On the other hand, *Kesah Pelayaran Abdullah*, which was openly published, was first seen as propaganda aimed at devaluing the nation. Only later was it considered revolutionary for its contribution to the development of Malay literature. Despite the unpleasant tone of both narratives, the doctrine of nationalism resonates actively within them. Consequently, they should be regarded as cultural products that promote nationalism in their respective countries.

Chapter 5, "Regional Literature as Epicenter of the Cultural Heritage – Projections of Literary Tourism in Colombia" by Luis Rubén Pérez Pinzón, explores how the works of Nobel Prize winner Gabriel García Marquez have inspired the development of urban tourist routes that aim to recreate the spaces and events associated with his characters and memories. The chapter discusses the concepts of literary tourism and argues that the outcomes of these efforts could be beneficial in promoting literary tourism experiences. This chapter examines the tours conducted by student-researchers using both hermeneutics as well as qualitative methods. In particular, the author looks at national and international scientific publications on literary tourism, as well as literary works created and published to celebrate the Santanderean identity.

Chapter 6, "Suspense and Unease in Patricia Highsmith's *Ripliad*" by Stefani Brusberg-Kiermeier, proposes that Patricia Highsmith's iconic character, Tom Ripley, can be

**V**

seen as a product of the 1950s, representing a transatlantic and cross-class invention. It argues that the novels featuring Tom Ripley should be analyzed within the framework of transnational literary developments in the crime and suspense genres. The chapter specifically focuses on the construction of suspense and highlights the significant role played by the emotional state of unease. This unease is central to shaping and presenting the protagonist and influences the impact of the novels on readers. Unlike previous research on the Ripliad, this chapter takes a different approach, avoiding psychoanalytical perspectives and exploring emotions that are not easily identifiable. Instead, it adopts a narrative theory perspective and delves into the subtle emotional

Chapter 7, "Trapped in between Duties and Desires: *The Mill on the Floss*" by Aycan Gökçek, explores the constraints faced by Victorian women and the limitations and inequalities that confine and imprison them in George Eliot's renowned novel, *The Mill on the Floss*, with a particular focus on the protagonist, Maggie Tulliver. The chapter begins by providing background information on the author and then examines the novel through the lens of the "woman question" in the Victorian Era, contrasting the opportunities afforded to male and female children during this period when intelligence was often viewed as a burden rather than a virtue. The chapter also examines the characteristics of the "New Woman" through the protagonist, Maggie. By highlighting the dilemma experienced by the protagonist as she navigates her responsibilities and desires in a patriarchal society that restricts women's access to education, intellectual pursuits, and social engagement, the chapter reveals that Victorian women were expected to be "angels in the house" who required protection from men. Ultimately, the chapter interprets *The Mill on the Floss* as a critique of Victorian society, which suffocates women, denying them opportunities for pleasure, intellectual growth, and individuality. It emphasizes that such a society is detrimental to both men and women.

This collection of chapters offers a diverse exploration of comparative literature and cultural phenomena from various perspectives. The authors delve into a range of fascinating topics, including literary tourism, biofiction, colonial/postcolonial literature, suspense in literature, and the interplay between different artistic mediums. For instance, the analysis of Gabriel García Márquez's works sheds light on the genres of magic realism and the Latin American boom while examining the impact of his literature on the promotion of literary tourism experiences. The study of Anna Enquist's work showcases the genre of biofiction and explores the multidimensional messages conveyed through reconstructed voices and alternative perspectives, giving voice to Captain Cook's wife, comparing this to the historical account of the 18th-century Ottoman Empire, particularly during the reign of Sultan Selim III, which Stanford Shaw conducts in *Between Old and New* (1971). The exploration of unease and suspense in Patricia Highsmith, whose character, Tom Ripley, has become one of Highsmith's most famous and enduring creations, one that captivates readers with his psychological depth and morally ambiguous nature. The discussions on colonial/postcolonial literature or the portrayal of women's restrictions from a historical perspective further enhance the field's understanding of power dynamics, gender representation, and non-Western literature. The analysis of Henri Fauconnier's *Malaisie*, introduces the concept of "paracoloniality," emphasizing the transformative potential of Western texts and underscoring overlooked aspects in discussions of colonial and postcolonial literatures. With fresh

state of unease, contributing to affective narratology.

seen as a product of the 1950s, representing a transatlantic and cross-class invention. It argues that the novels featuring Tom Ripley should be analyzed within the framework of transnational literary developments in the crime and suspense genres. The chapter specifically focuses on the construction of suspense and highlights the significant role played by the emotional state of unease. This unease is central to shaping and presenting the protagonist and influences the impact of the novels on readers. Unlike previous research on the Ripliad, this chapter takes a different approach, avoiding psychoanalytical perspectives and exploring emotions that are not easily identifiable. Instead, it adopts a narrative theory perspective and delves into the subtle emotional state of unease, contributing to affective narratology.

Chapter 7, "Trapped in between Duties and Desires: *The Mill on the Floss*" by Aycan Gökçek, explores the constraints faced by Victorian women and the limitations and inequalities that confine and imprison them in George Eliot's renowned novel, *The Mill on the Floss*, with a particular focus on the protagonist, Maggie Tulliver. The chapter begins by providing background information on the author and then examines the novel through the lens of the "woman question" in the Victorian Era, contrasting the opportunities afforded to male and female children during this period when intelligence was often viewed as a burden rather than a virtue. The chapter also examines the characteristics of the "New Woman" through the protagonist, Maggie. By highlighting the dilemma experienced by the protagonist as she navigates her responsibilities and desires in a patriarchal society that restricts women's access to education, intellectual pursuits, and social engagement, the chapter reveals that Victorian women were expected to be "angels in the house" who required protection from men. Ultimately, the chapter interprets *The Mill on the Floss* as a critique of Victorian society, which suffocates women, denying them opportunities for pleasure, intellectual growth, and individuality. It emphasizes that such a society is detrimental to both men and women.

This collection of chapters offers a diverse exploration of comparative literature and cultural phenomena from various perspectives. The authors delve into a range of fascinating topics, including literary tourism, biofiction, colonial/postcolonial literature, suspense in literature, and the interplay between different artistic mediums. For instance, the analysis of Gabriel García Márquez's works sheds light on the genres of magic realism and the Latin American boom while examining the impact of his literature on the promotion of literary tourism experiences. The study of Anna Enquist's work showcases the genre of biofiction and explores the multidimensional messages conveyed through reconstructed voices and alternative perspectives, giving voice to Captain Cook's wife, comparing this to the historical account of the 18th-century Ottoman Empire, particularly during the reign of Sultan Selim III, which Stanford Shaw conducts in *Between Old and New* (1971). The exploration of unease and suspense in Patricia Highsmith, whose character, Tom Ripley, has become one of Highsmith's most famous and enduring creations, one that captivates readers with his psychological depth and morally ambiguous nature. The discussions on colonial/postcolonial literature or the portrayal of women's restrictions from a historical perspective further enhance the field's understanding of power dynamics, gender representation, and non-Western literature. The analysis of Henri Fauconnier's *Malaisie*, introduces the concept of "paracoloniality," emphasizing the transformative potential of Western texts and underscoring overlooked aspects in discussions of colonial and postcolonial literatures. With fresh perspectives on Malay and Persian travel narratives, the volume provides valuable insights into the representation of nations and historical figures as well as their impact on cultural identity. The chapters also delve into the evolution of literary genres, the interrelationship between literature and other art forms, and the impact of technological advancements on artistic expression. Overall, these chapters provide valuable insights into the rich tapestry of literature, art, and culture, offering new perspectives and deepening our understanding of comparative literature and encouraging scholars to explore diverse cultural expressions and fostering interdisciplinary dialogue within the field.

> **Asun López-Varela Azcárate** Complutense University of Madrid, Madrid, Spain

> > **1**

**Chapter 1**

**Abstract**

technology

**1. Introduction**

forms, technologies and spaces of meaning.

Perspective Chapter: Intermedial

Twentieth-Century Avant-Gardes

This chapter traces an overview of the evolution of the ekphrastic exchanges among the so-called sister-arts until the emergence of the concept of the total work of art (*Gesamtkunstwerk*) and the artistic syncretism of twentieth-century avant-gardes. The discussion is framed within Intermedial Studies, an interdisciplinary area that merges aspects of semiotics, communication studies and comparative literature, among other disciplines. The chapter focuses on the major technological shifts that have shaped the discussion. It does not contemplate the digital convergence, which is explored in the chapter "Literature Review on Intermedial Studies from Analogue to Digital" as part of InTech volume *The Intermediality of Contemporary Visual Arts.*

**Keywords:** art, ekphrasis, Gesamtkunstwerk, intermedial studies, medium, semiotics,

Artistic pursuits, sociocultural practices, art history and criticism, as well as evolving theories on intermediality, serve the purpose of 'qualifying' media. They systemically intertwine material aspects with practices, explaining practices themselves from the point of view of their instrumentality and technicity, as well as from their aesthetic, artistic and social value. Thus, since its inception and in my understanding, intermediality has been contemplated as defining the relationships between art

The first examples of intermedial pursuits in Europe can be found in ancient Greece. Plato described the creation of the world in the *Timaeus* as a recursive modelling of parts that he called '*elementum*', the Latin translation of the Greek στοιχεîον, which included letters (graphemes), numbers and harmonic musical tones, after being inspired by Pythagoras. The term στοιχεɩ̃ον (*stoikheîon*) carried both atomistic and cosmological associations and Plato ((*Timeo* 31b-32b ff.) used it to establish the bases of the structure of matter, linking chemical elements to cosmogony (origin

Comparative Literature – From

the Sister-Arts Debate to the

*Asun López-Varela Azcárate*

#### **Chapter 1**

## Perspective Chapter: Intermedial Comparative Literature – From the Sister-Arts Debate to the Twentieth-Century Avant-Gardes

*Asun López-Varela Azcárate*

#### **Abstract**

This chapter traces an overview of the evolution of the ekphrastic exchanges among the so-called sister-arts until the emergence of the concept of the total work of art (*Gesamtkunstwerk*) and the artistic syncretism of twentieth-century avant-gardes. The discussion is framed within Intermedial Studies, an interdisciplinary area that merges aspects of semiotics, communication studies and comparative literature, among other disciplines. The chapter focuses on the major technological shifts that have shaped the discussion. It does not contemplate the digital convergence, which is explored in the chapter "Literature Review on Intermedial Studies from Analogue to Digital" as part of InTech volume *The Intermediality of Contemporary Visual Arts.*

**Keywords:** art, ekphrasis, Gesamtkunstwerk, intermedial studies, medium, semiotics, technology

#### **1. Introduction**

Artistic pursuits, sociocultural practices, art history and criticism, as well as evolving theories on intermediality, serve the purpose of 'qualifying' media. They systemically intertwine material aspects with practices, explaining practices themselves from the point of view of their instrumentality and technicity, as well as from their aesthetic, artistic and social value. Thus, since its inception and in my understanding, intermediality has been contemplated as defining the relationships between art forms, technologies and spaces of meaning.

The first examples of intermedial pursuits in Europe can be found in ancient Greece. Plato described the creation of the world in the *Timaeus* as a recursive modelling of parts that he called '*elementum*', the Latin translation of the Greek στοιχεîον, which included letters (graphemes), numbers and harmonic musical tones, after being inspired by Pythagoras. The term στοιχεɩ̃ον (*stoikheîon*) carried both atomistic and cosmological associations and Plato ((*Timeo* 31b-32b ff.) used it to establish the bases of the structure of matter, linking chemical elements to cosmogony (origin

of the universe), anthropology (origin of human nature) and metaphysics (beyond nature, exploring the components and fundamental principles of reality).

The Book One of *De Rerum Natura*, written by the epicurean poet of the late Roman republican era, Titus Lucretius Carus, drew the analogy between atoms and letters to explain the idea of structure. In this way, pattern repetitions gradually became assimilated as ordering principles within certain semiotic correlations in the cultural unconscious, becoming part of languages, writing systems, and other forms of cultural representation (i.e., geometry, algebra and so on). In discourse, these ordering principles followed alphabetic patterns with each letter entering linear collocations (syntax) and associations (semantic).

As with other technologies, writing occurs in relation to the affordances allowed by the materiality of the writing surface, from stones and clay tablets to the papyrus, the scroll, the codex and the book. Writing can be considered both a technical medium for representing a realm of experiential and cognitive phenomena and, at the same time, a technology that is constituted by its very material mediality. In other words, writing occurs in close association between the limits and potentialities of the book as a space of activity that places, situates or maps, the visual with the verbal. As such, it may be seen as 'inter-medial'.

Indeed, like writing, intermediality simultaneously codes or maps a given space or territory, that is, the material medium. Thus, with several disciplines involved, the first comparisons, connections and transfers between the so-called 'sister-arts', poetry, music and the visual arts, were situated at the crossroads between various areas. For instance, poetry plays with the material patterning of sound and the graphic qualities of text, involving relations between word (both as sound and as grapheme) and image.

Texts, like images, depict a two-dimensional, visible order in space. In the Western world, the term ekphrasis (from ancient Greek ek- 'out' + phrazein 'tell') was used to refer to the modelling mechanism for drawing analogies between letters and images. Words served to describe the pictorial when this was no longer visible. Through words, something was rendered visible for the listener's mind. The Homeric description of the shield of Achilles (*Iliad* 18.478–608) is Western literature's earliest and most influential example of ekphrasis.

The contemporary usage of the term was coined by comparatist Leo Spitzer, who defined ekphrasis as "the poetic description of a pictorial or sculptural work of art, which description implies, in the words of Théophile Gautier, 'une transposition d'art', "the reproduction through the medium of words of sensuously perceptible objets d'art (*ut pictura poesis*)" [1]. Painting consisted generally of iconic signs until the emergence of nonfigurative art. In ekphrastic description, words drew analogies and similarities between the painted representation and the real. Scholars in the field of Intermedial Studies have widened this notion. Claus Clüver, for instance, defined ekphrasis as "the verbal representation of a real or fictitious text composed in a non-verbal sign system" that translates "from one sign system into another that is based on a different medium [2]. Musicologist Siglind Bruhn expanded the notion of ekphrasis to "a representation in one medium of a text composed in another medium" [3].

All definitions of ekphrasis include crossings and combinations of different kinds of signs, which depend on the material configurations of media. Thus, intermedial crossings, highlight "relations as a dialogic process taking place between different expressive media, rather than as a set of static references to textual artifacts" [4]. The following lines briefly trace the evolution of ekphrasis as it becomes 'intermediality',

owing not only to the technical advances that transform media, but also on the sociocultural history of how media become 'qualified'.

#### **2. Ekphrasis and the sister-arts debate in Europe**

The Greek biographer Plutarch (46 – c. 120 CE) indicated that Simonides of Kea (c. 556–468 BCE) was the first to affirm that poetry was a speaking picture and painting silent poetry. This close relation between poetry and painting was also captured Plato.

*Writing, Phaedrus, has this strange quality, and is very like painting; for the creatures of painting stand like living beings, but if one asks them a question, they preserve a solemn silence. And so it is with written words; you might think they spoke as if they had intelligence, but if you question them, wishing to know about their sayings, they always say only one and the same thing.* (Plato. Phaedrus 275d) [5]*.*

In the *Poetics,* Aristotle drew attention to the use of analogy in the different arts, each varying in relation to the medium, the subject or agent, and the manner. He distinguishes between different kinds of imitations with reference to the medium used, such as words, gestures, shapes, colours, etc. The term used by Aristotle to describe the impact of intense description upon the mind of the recipient is *hypotypōsis* (from 'hypo', to stamp and 'typoun', cast impression/form), generating *enargeia* ἐνέργεια (ἐν = en, "in" and ἔργον = érgon, "work/action"). The Greek philosopher develops the parallel between poetry and painting and claims that although the object of both arts is the imitation of human nature in action, their means for achieving this are different. Poetry uses language, rhythm and harmony and painting uses colours and form. Aristotle explains the differences between the arts in relation to the subject/agent who performs the analogic or mimetic act, reminding us that aesthetics requires experience from all the human senses and perceptual modes and, above all, the invocation of resemblance and vividness [6]. The Roman poet Horace (65–8 BCE) coined the expression "*ut pictura poesis*" in his *Ars poëtica* (347–390) [7] in order to explain the relationship between text and images, writing and painting [8].

In spite of a scholarly debate that, since the 1990s, has affirmed that, in the Western world, there was a superiority of the word (and of poetry) over the image (painting) [9], there are many examples of their fruitful coexistence as sister-arts. For instance, the mnemonic images of medieval manuscripts helped memorialization. The Kennicott Bible, an illuminated Hebrew Bible (1476) from La Coruña in the Iberian Peninsula shows the artistic coexistence of the three cultures, Christian, Jewish and Islam, before the expulsion of the Jews and the surrender of the last Islamic groups in Granada in the last decade of the 1400s. Another example that challenges the separation between the arts is the triptych, a term coming from the ancient Greek meaning 'three' but also 'fold'. It refers to a painting divided into three sections corresponding to three scenes. The triptych appeared in early Christian art and became the standard format for altar paintings from the Middle Ages onwards. Some Renaissance painters like Hieronymus Bosch also used this form in *The Garden of Earthly Delights* (1490–1510). The triptych can also be seen as an early example of sequential art.

While Christian art was inspired by Biblical stories, in Islam figural representations were forbidden and considered idolatry. The second commandment delivered to Moses by God contained the prohibition to invoke and repeat God's name, but

also to create images. Since humans were made in the image of God, the prohibition extended to human figures. Thus, the repetition of geometrical designs or arabesque was used in Islamic art to symbolize the transcendent, indivisible and infinite nature of God. Floral patterns were also common. The most identifiable architectural design was the *Charbagh*, a quadrilateral layout with four smaller gardens divided by walkways or flowing streams of water. The Qur'an has many references to gardens, and the garden is used as an earthly analogue for life in paradise; the term 'paradise' comes from proto-Iranian for garden, the Garden of Eden. As in architecture, Islamic frescos, were highly ornate, with designs that included florals, geometric and sometimes, though rarely, figural scenes. The garden motif was also intermedially used in the design of other objects, such as carpets, which fulfilled very important and diverse roles in early nomad Islamic cultures. Along with the garden and its floral and geometric shapes, calligraphic inscription was fundamental in Islamic representation, embedded with religious significance and verses from the Qu'ran. Calligraphy was often used side by side with arabesque and floral designs.

As we move towards the Renaissance, we can provide more examples of the coexistence of the sister-arts. The influence of Asian cultures in the Italian Renaissance cannot be underestimated. The book that recorded the travels of Venetian merchant Marco Polo (1254–1324) shows his great knowledge of the cultures of China, Persia, India and Japan. China was among the first cultures to narrate stories and poems through landscape painting. The first evidence of this art dates back to the Han Dynasty (206 BCE-220 CE). During the Song dynasty (960–1279 CE), visions of social hierarchy were established using perspective techniques in painting, representing people's roles in the Confucian well-regulated state and organically integrated within nature. Later, under the invasion of the Mongols and the establishment of the Yuan dynasty (1271–1368), Song intellectuals disappeared from public life and their paintings began to represent their idealized garden villas as extensions of themselves. This period also incorporated the landscape of the mind, embodied in the form of calligraphy within the paintings, constituting early intermedial forms in themselves.

Chinese artists made use of oblique projection from the first or second century (Cucker 2013: 269–278) [10], aware of the general principle of varying the relative size of elements according to distance and using colour to create visual depth in painting and illustration. Linear or point-projection perspective (from Latin *perspicere* 'to see through') is one of the types of projection in the graphic arts; an approximate representation, generally on a flat surface, of an image perceived by sight. Systematic attempts to evolve a system of perspective had been developed by Euclid of Alexandria and his *Optics* (c. 300 BCE), but it was during the Renaissance that linear perspective was fully introduced in Europe by Florentine architect Filippo Brunelleschi (1377–1146). His colleague Leon Battista Alberti (1406–72) replicated perspective in the pictorial plane by painting directly on a mirror and creating the grid. As mentioned, these developments owed much to the intercultural exchanges between Asia and Europe. *Muthanna* was a popular form of Islamic calligraphy that operates under the principle of symmetrical reflection of a calligraphic text on a mirror. This art form is well documented in the Ottoman Empire. Esra Akin-Kivanç (2020) examines this form of mirror-writing and connects it to their idea of God in Islam [11].

In painting, projections enabled to extend the 'story' presented in the picture, adding background detail and a field of view that contributed to enhance narrative value. Brunelleschi and Alberti worked together at the *Accademia dell arti del Disegno*, established in Florence in 1563 by Cosimo I de Medici. The academia was

#### *Perspective Chapter: Intermedial Comparative Literature – From the Sister-Arts Debate… DOI: http://dx.doi.org/10.5772/intechopen.112525*

an important centre in promoting interrelations between intellectuals, painters, sculptors and architects interested in the study of geometry, lineal perspective, chiaroscuro, anatomy and all the essential disciplines for the practice of the visual arts. Geometric executions, combined with studies on the incidence of light, its reflections and colours, as well as instruments like the mirror, allowed the recreation of the visual illusion of depth relative to the observer, emulating human stereoscopic vision, achieved by curved lenses.

One of the most important statements on the mirror as an instrument that contributes to visualize the world in new ways occurs in Leonardo Da Vinci's *Trattato della pittura*, himself a disciple of the *Accademia*. The articles, collected by Da Vinci's disciples around 1542, were published almost a century later by Raffaelo du Fresne in 1651, and translated to English only in 1721. The Italian artist writes that the mind of the painter is like a mirror that truly reflects each object as if it were second nature. Although this second nature of the mirror had been seen with complacency by Socrates, Plato, distrusted the mirror because it made us believe that its reflection was real. In 1588, Tuscan astronomer, Galileo Galilei (1564–1642), entered the *Accademia* interested in perspective techniques in relation to curved optic surfaces and spherical lenses. In 1609, he designed a tube with a curve lens, similar to Alberti's window, intended to reproduce spherical bodies. A few months later, he developed his greater achievement: the telescope.

The above lines give an idea of the growing importance of optical instruments, lenses and mirrors, in art. The mirror represents a double articulation of the analogic figure, and in the case of curved mirrors, a distortion of analogy enables a metareflection on the ambiguity of representation. Thus, the specular relation can be seen as simultaneously staging a mimetic representation or copy of the real, or as a window that opens up other possible realities [12].

It is no surprise that Leonardo Da Vinci felt that it was time to claim a higher status for visual artists, beyond the classical role of artisans and imitators. In his *Paragone* (from the Greek meaning a model or pattern of special excellence or perfection), da Vinci reversed Simonides' comparison by pointing out that if painting is "mute poetry", then poetry is "blind painting." In this treaty, Da Vinci considers painting the noblest art since among the different perceptual modes, vision, he claims is superior to hearing, the main sense involved in poetry. He proclaims painting and poetry to be 'sister-arts' and insists that this sisterly emulation should be an enterprise that elevates painting to the class of liberal arts. When he affirms that the painter is the "lord of all types of people and of all things" (2008: 185), Da Vinci justifies the superiority of painting over all other forms of art:

*[…] if you, O poet, tell a story with your pen, the painter with his brush can tell it more easily, with simpler completeness, and less tedious to follow. If you call painting dumb poetry, the painter may call poetry blind painting. Consider then which is the more grievous defect, to be blind or dumb? Though the poet is as free as the painter in the invention of his fictions, his creations do not give so great a satisfaction to men as paintings do; for though poetry attempts to describe forms, actions, and places in words, the painter employs the actual similitude of the forms, in order to reproduce them* [13].

Alongside this debate on the 'sister-arts', new techniques allowed novel combinations of words and images. Wood engraving or xylography is the oldest engraving technique known. It was first developed in China around the first century BCE.

Albrecht Dürer (1471–1528) is one of the most prominent artists who used this technique. Introduced by Daniel Hopfer (1493–1536), etching soon surpassed engraving. Other popular graphic arts were mezzotint, stipple and aquatint. During the 16th and 17th centuries, many visual pieces continued to be inspired by written texts, often drawn from religious passages. The emblem or allegorical illustration was a prominent intermedial form made up of an icon/image (pictura), often an engraving, bearing a citation or a motto (inscriptio) and a subscript (subscriptio), often a quotation from a prominent work, adding commentary and explaining the connection between image and motto. As they became an independent artistic genre, books of emblems appeared, drawing inspiration and borrowing from medieval fables, where the graphic image was ekphrastically translated into the textual format. One example is George Wither's *Book of Emblems* (1635). Engravings and texts were also borrowed from earlier exemplars, as was the case with Geoffrey Whitney's *Choice of Emblemes* (1586). In this regard, Peter Wagner defends that the concept of ekphrasis, although originating in the field of rhetoric, expanded later to include "all verbal commentary and writing (poems, critical assessments, art historical accounts) on images" (1996: 17) [14].

Familiar with Leonardo da Vinci's text, the Italian painter Michelangelo Merisi da Caravaggio employed optics and mirrors in his own work. Giambattista Della Porta published *Magiae naturalis* in 1558, including discussion of optical projections and an account of *camera obscura* (dark room), a device known at least since Roman times where a small hole in a box acts as a kind of natural lens by producing an upside-down image on the side of the box opposite the hole. It was used to study perspective in architecture and painting. The hole was later substituted by a lens, including mirrors inside the box to invert the image to the right side up.

Advances in optics during the seventeenth century, with new instruments such as the telescope and the microscope, developed in 1608 and the 1620s respectively, gave way to novel ways of looking at the world, influencing European Baroque culture. No doubt, Copernicus and Galileo's scientific findings had an impact on the art of chiaroscuro in painting. The possibility of looking close-up may have inspired the exaggerated detail used in architecture, theatre, music, dance and literature. Bach, Vivaldi and Handel created new styles of music, some of which used a multiplicity of choral voices combined in one melodic line to create a contrapuntal texture. All the arts were adorned with fancy, sensuous richness, dynamism and exuberance, as seen for example in Bernini's white marble "Ecstasy of Saint Teresa" (1647–1652; Santa Maria della Vittoria, Rome).

Both sensual and spiritual, in the context of Catholic Counter-reformation and Protestant Reform, European Baroque art conveyed a sense of grandeur as well as emotional and dramatic qualities. It showed a growing tendency to blur distinctions between various artistic disciplines, capturing the essence of what later was termed Gesamtkunstwerk (total work of art). This can be seen in the *tableaux* (the term was coined later by Denis Diderot 1713–1784) *vivants* painted by Caravaggio and his follower Artemisia Gentileschi (for a semiotic analysis of Caravaggio's "Judith Beheading Holofernes", c. 1598, see Mieke Bal 1998) [15] More information in Fusillo and Petricola (2023) [16].

Two other examples of the use of perspective to increase dramatic effect and engage the viewers are Velazquez's "Las Meninas" (1656) at the Prado Museum in Madrid, and "The Crucifixion" (1565) by Tintoretto, installed in the Sala dell'Albergo of the Scuola Grande di San Rocco, Venice. "Las Meninas" shows and intricate play of perspective in a tableau-vivant that many art critics have described as capturing

#### *Perspective Chapter: Intermedial Comparative Literature – From the Sister-Arts Debate… DOI: http://dx.doi.org/10.5772/intechopen.112525*

the philosophy of art. Eluding a clear narration of what is taking place in the scene, the painting engages the viewer's gaze, and traps it in the mirror interplay of speculative forms of looking exhibited by the range of characters the populate the painting. Writing about ekphrasis and Tintoretto's "The Crucifixion", Jean Paul Sartre (1948/1988) affirmed that.

*Tintoretto did not choose that yellow rift in the sky above Golgotha to signify anguish or to provoke it. It is anguish and yellow sky at the same time. Not sky of anguish or anguished sky; it is an anguish become thing, an anguish which has turned into yellow rift of sky, and which thereby is submerged and impasted by the qualities peculiar to things, by their impermeability, their extension, their blind permanence, their externality, and that infinity of relations which they maintain with other things. That is, it is no longer readable. It is like an immense and vain effort, forever arrested halfway between sky and earth, to express what their nature keeps them from arresting.*  (1948/1988: 27; emphasis in the original) [17].

What Sartre highlights is the capacity of visual art to magically embody emotions beyond explanation (*readable*). For Sartre, Tintoretto's painting is no longer ekphrastic. Its power of enchantment lies in its capacity to simultaneously capture past, future and present: a memory, an imagined place and the present circumstances –the political 'rift' taking place at the Scuola Grande at the time Tintoretto was working there. The painting holds a moment in time while liberating it to eternity. The space of the painting becomes a 'place' where anyone can enter. As abstractions cannot be told (except in metaphors), emotions are made present by an inexplicable mutual transfer of sensation between the artist, the artwork and the experiencer.

To return to the seventeenth century, the ceiling fresco by Italian artist Andrea Pozzo, "Triumph of St. Ignatius of Loyola" (1691–94), at Church Sant'Ignazio, Rome, is another example of the dialogue between architecture and painting. The Counterreformation was trying to revive the cult of the saints by using the allegorical mode. Accordingly, Pozzo creates a tableau-vivant with a 3D spatial effect that makes the figures almost touchable. Using an advanced perspectival technique and painting on the curved surfaces of vaults, Pozzo succeeds in creating a space that encloses the viewer within a scene that is simultaneously sacred and quotidian. Some drawn architectural elements, columns, balustrades and arches, fused with the real architecture, contribute to create the effect of immersion within the artwork.

In contrast, to the exuberance of Southern Europe, most of Northern European art remained austere. The Reformation's iconoclastic attitude to religious images turned the attention of artists and their patrons towards secular subjects like portraits and landscapes. It has become widely accepted that landscape painting in Europe began with the Reformation. At the same time, the use of optic technologies and *camera obscura* is evident in portraits that show extreme and almost photographic realism, like those by the Dutch Rembrandt (1606–1669) or Jan Vermeer (1632–1675) [18].

The mechanization of art paralleled the impact of technology in all areas, a fundamental aspect in the move towards greater intermediality. A portable version of *camera obscura* was developed by Dutch inventor Cornelis Drebbel and sold to artist Constantijn Huygens in 1622. A kind of ancestor to the *lanterna magica*, this device enabled intermedial figurations, generating not only images but also texts and images within texts. In 1645, the Jesuit scholar Athanasius Kircher published *Ars Magna Lucis et Umbrae,* which included a description of his invention, the 'steganographic mirror'. Putting together the ideas of Drebbel and Kircher, Huygens developed the magic

lantern in the 1660s. These technologies were the direct ancestors of motion picture projectors. The Baroque period created awe-inspiring 'works of artifice', automata and forms of machine theatre with intermedial characteristics, all of which were precursors of 1800s *Phantasmagoria* shows [19].

Technological developments in the second half of the seventeenth century contributed to extending the debate on the 'sister-arts', a discussion that was sustained well into the nineteenth century, particularly during the Romantic period. In 1695, British poet John Dryden had translated *The Art of Painting* (*De Arte Graphica*) by Charles Alphonse du Fresnoy, and included a commentary entitled "Parallel of Poetry and Painting", establishing an analogy between the two arts and their aesthetic properties. Dryden explains that each discipline is equally valid in its field, but that no comparison can be established between them since they use different means of expression. Quoting Du Fresnoy, he affirms: "tis the pencil thrown luckily full upon the horse's mouth to express the foam which the painter with all his skill could not perform without it. These hits of words a true poet often finds, as I may say, without seeking: but he knows the value when he finds them." Dryden stresses the coexistence of the sister-arts and adds that "without Invention a Painter is but a Copier, and a Poet but a Plagiary of others. Both are allow'd sometimes to copy and translate" (Dryden 1695: xxxiv) [20].

Owing to the Longinian tradition, the debate about the differences between the arts was directed towards the emotional aspects of aesthetics. The identity of Longinus is still disputed, and there remains just a single surviving incomplete manuscript of his *Peri Hupsous*. The concept is comparable to that of the sublime, a moment that brings oral speech to a climax that produces a sense of wonder in the audience. The *Peri Hupsous* managed to integrate the approaches used by Plato, Aristotle and Horace, enhancing the value of imagination. In section VIII, the author stresses the importance of language to conceive great thoughts and inspire strong emotions. In section IX, he refers to sublimity as an echo of the noble mind [21, 22].

Although the British poet Alexander Pope was very critical of Longinus' text in *The Art of Sinking in Poetry* (1727), in Epistle I of his moral essay, *Of the Knowledge and Characters of Men* (1734), addressed to Sir Richard Temple, Lord Cobham, Pope stresses that the combination of reason and fancy is important. He uses terms drawn from the visual arts, such as 'tincture', 'discolour' and 'mark' to draw the analogies between both qualities of the mind:

*On human actions reason tho' you can,* [25]. *It may be Reason, but it is not Man: His Principle of action once explore, That instant't is his Principle no more. Like following life thro' creatures you dissect, You lose it in the moment you detect.* [30]. *Yet more; the diff'rence is as great between. The optics seeing as the objects seen. All Manners take a tincture from our own, Or come discolour'd thro' our Passions shown; Or Fancy's beam enlarges, multiplies,* [35]. *Contracts, inverts, and gives ten thousand dyes. Nor will life's stream for observation stay, It hurries all too fast to mark their way* [23]*.*

#### *Perspective Chapter: Intermedial Comparative Literature – From the Sister-Arts Debate… DOI: http://dx.doi.org/10.5772/intechopen.112525*

The relations between the arts, politics and the development of national identities in the consolidation of European nations were very dependent upon the emerging media formats of new journals and magazines. In the eighteenth century, print culture was particularly strong in France, where King Louis XV was a printing enthusiast. Several members of his family had private presses, and his mistress, Madame de Pompadour was also an engraver. The *Imprimerie Royale* dictated the style of Rococo taste, favouring the production of smaller books, reduced enough in size to be held in the hand. There was also a rising popularity of small-format paintings called 'conversation pieces' in the Van Dyke tradition. Portraits turned into private art forms to show in the salons. The cost of printing began to decline and several French artists and engravers, like Gravelot, came to live in England becoming the most prominent engraver and influencing local English taste. For example, Samuel Richardson commissioned the 1742 luxurious edition of *Pamela or Virtue Rewarded* to Gravelot. This was the second edition of the book, which had been a best-seller when first published in 1740. At this time, books and paintings began to attract interest as affordable items to be collected by middle and upper classes. They helped to create a public image of economic success, taste and education [24].

A complete transformation of the public sphere took place in the major European cities at this time, and the tensions between artistic practices and medial requirements contributed to shape the distribution of power relations. In *Picture Theory,* W.J.T. Mitchell asserts his "conviction that the tensions between visual and verbal representations are inseparable from struggles in cultural politics and political culture." (1994: 3) [25] Jürgen Habermas (1989) has also described the rise of an autonomous subjectivity as the defining feature of the philosophical and historical concept of modernity. His theory of the 'public sphere' shows how social change is associated with the processes of modernisation that qualify media [26].

In Britain, one of the most important shapers of public opinion was the journal edited by Joseph Addison (1672–1719), *The Spectator.* In 1712, a series of articles in issues 411–421 explored the viability of the '*Ut pictura poiesis*'. The conclusion of this debate asserted that "[…] by the pleasures of the imagination, or fancy, (which I shall use promiscuously), I here mean such as arise from visible objects, either when we have them actually in our view, or when we call up their ideas into our minds by paintings, statues, descriptions, or any the like occasion." ("The Pleasures Of Imagination." *The Spectator* No. 411, June 21, 1712) [27]. This assertion illustrates the importance of the existent debate between imagination and fancy (which Samuel Taylor Coleridge ruled as different concepts) and its impact on the notion of the sublime within the growing field of aesthetics.

The British scholar and politician Edmund Burke attempted to reconcile the cognitive and emotional aspects of art. Whilst at Trinity College Dublin (1743–8), Burke read Pope as well as a large range of Greek and Latin texts, including Plato, Aristotle, Horace and Longinus. Cressida Ryan (2011) contends that Burke imitates Longinus' intertextual allusions as a meta-reflexive strategy. Burke emphasized that whatever excites ideas of terror and pain arise the strongest emotions in the mind and body and can be even more sublime than pleasure (Burke 1757: 39–40) [28].

*The passion caused by the great and sublime in nature, when those causes operate most powerfully, is astonishment; and astonishment is that state of the soul, in which all its motions are suspended, with some degree of horror. In this case, the mind is so entirely filled with its object that it cannot entertain any other, nor by consequence* 

*reason on that object which employs it. (Philosophical Enquiry into the Origin of our Ideas of the Sublime and Beautiful,* 1757, Part II/Chapter 1) [28].

Burke's example of ferocious animals as sublime generated great controversy, as captured by poet and artist William Blake in his poem "The Tyger" and his famous line 'fearful symmetry'. Concerning the '*Ut pictura poiesis*' debate, Burke insisted that lively and spirited verbal description can raise stronger emotions than the best picture.

Under Cartesian influence, perception had been contemplated as a mechanism to be understood by reason, the most important quality of the human mind. Objects were made up of several unified parts and when visually appraising them, the eyes moved from one part to the next to subsequently integrate each part as a whole in the mind. Thus, for Burke, as for Pope, proportion was still associated to the measure of relative quantity, which is a matter of reason. In Pope's quote above, the reference to 'optics' is relevant because he affirms that instruments like the microscope do not provide the bigger picture. He insists that only "Fancy's beam enlarges, multiplies". Likewise, Burke believed that sensible beauty is not only to be understood in the light of reason and requires 'fancy'. Although Burke's notion of the sublime would inspire the Romantics, he does not celebrate fancy/imagination as a sort of innate, natural and divine quality, independent from reason and learning. Coleridge will clearly differentiate fancy and imagination in *Biographia Literaria*. To Burke, aesthetic response is primarily non-rational in nature but it is, nevertheless, something which can be cultivated and developed in its role to emphasize ethical and political judgement. This treatment of the sublime is the aspect most debated during the Romantic period.

Gotthold Ephraim Lessing is also a figure worth mentioning in the debate over the 'sister-arts'. Between 1760 and 1765, during the Seven Years' War between Britain and France, Lessing was working as secretary to General Tauentzien in Wrocław (now in Poland). He was first-hand witness to the territorial disputes and changes that took place during Prussian rule. The intellectual climate struggled to legitimize German language and art as part of the development of nation-building during the *Aufklärung* (Enlightenment). In 1757, only some months after its publication, Lessing had discovered Burke's *A Philosophical Enquiry into the Sublime and Beautiful* through his friend Moses Mendelssohn. Initially, he wanted to translate the book into German. He never did, but in *Laocoön: An Essay on the Limits of Painting and Poetry* (1766), Lessing explored the differences and similarities between painting, sculpture and poetry by focusing on the temporal, rather than the spatial aspects of analogy.

*[…] If the work of art, though destined to last, represents only a single moment, there can be no doubt that that moment must be chosen which is most suggestive of effect; i.e. that which allows the freest scope of imagination. But that moment is certainly not the extreme point of the passion represented, otherwise the imagination could not soar beyond. In the case of the Laokoon it is not the shriek, but the supressed sigh that is most apt to set the imagination working. Another reason is that transitory acts are not fit to receive unchangeable duration through art, as they would look unnatural. A shriek is transitory; the apparent continuance of the cries of Laokoon in marble would have digusted the beholder. The famous painters of antiquity, in their representations of passion, always chose that point where the behold could anticipate the extreme outbreak of the passion they represented, but did not actually see it –that point which was at the same time not so inseparably associated with the idea of transitoriness as to displease by its continuance in art.* (1766/1880: 3) [29].

#### *Perspective Chapter: Intermedial Comparative Literature – From the Sister-Arts Debate… DOI: http://dx.doi.org/10.5772/intechopen.112525*

Lessing compared the visual representation of Laocoon and his sons being devoured by sea serpents during the Trojan War to Virgil's description in *The Aeneid* (l. II). Known as the Laocoön Group, the marble was found in the Esquiline Hill in Rome in 1506 and its description appears not only in Virgil, but also in the accounts of Roman historian Pliny the Elder's *Historia naturalis.* Lessing's remarks about the boundaries between art, by which he means painting and sculpture, on the one hand, and poetry and literature, on the other, stressed the ability of poetry to excite mental pictures in a temporal sequence, thus creating the illusion of reality. According to Lessing, the visual artist is more limited than the poet because he can only capture one point of view in a particular instant in a temporal sequence that is transitory. Painting and sculpture function within simultaneity, as static objects, while poetry moves on the axis of succession, and is, according to Lessing, better able to create an illusion of reality. Turning to Burke's idea of the sublime in terror and fear, Lessing considers that it is more difficult to appreciate suffering and pain in the statue than in the poem. He also discussed the impossibility of each art to be completely faithful to reality, since poetry lacks immediacy, and sculpture cannot give enough descriptive detail or voice sounds. Thus, although Karl Friedrich Eusebius Trahndorff did not introduce the idea of the *Gesamtkunstwerk* until 1827 [30], Lessing seems to be an early advocate of the unity of all art.

The work of archaeologist and art historian Johann Winckelmann had great significance in Lessing's generation. Philosophers like Kant, Mendelssohn and Herder, and the younger literary architects of Weimar Classicism, Goethe and Schiller, were inspired by Winckelmann's work *Die Geschichte der Kunst des Altertums* (1764) (*History of the Art of Antiquity*). Winckelmann argued that the unity of simplicity underlying the ideal of beauty could not be grasped intellectually, but only as an effect of beauty's appearance in the artwork. The task of explaining the conditions of aesthetic understanding was the most discussed topic until after the Romantic period [31].

Winckelmann's conception also finds concurrence in Lessing, Burke and in the emerging field of aestheticism. The term 'aesthetics' had been coined by Alexander Baumgarten while working on his dissertation on the philosophy of art, published in 1735. As seen, reflections on aesthetics and on the dialogue among the arts coincided with a period of inquiry into the role of emotions, sentiment and the sublime. During the Scottish Enlightenment, the discussion had focused mainly on 'sympathy' and public justice. In Britain, Thomas Hobbes (1588–1679) believed that in the face of two emotions like pleasure or delight, pity and grief "delight is so far predominant, that men usually are content in such a case to be spectators of the misery of their friends." (Hobbes, *Elements of Law* 9.19) [32]. Like Burke, and on the opposite side of the argument, Adam Smith (1723–1790) posited that grief experiences from others were also very real emotions experienced through our imagination: "Human beings all have a natural feeling for others. Even the worst of us feels some pity when others suffer" (*Theory of Moral Sentiments* 1759, cited in Butler 2011: 77) [33]. David Hume (1711–1776) also published a collection of essays entitled *Essays, Moral, Political, and Literary*. The first part dealt mainly with political and aesthetic issues. Hume considered that taste involved more than just the rational capacity to detect the structure and composition and that there were also aspects of sensory discrimination linked to human capacity for pleasure.

*Tis indeed evident, that when we sympathize with the passions and sentiments of others, these movements appear at first in our mind as mere ideas, and are conceiv'd to belong to another person, as we conceive any other matter of fact. 'Tis also evident, that the ideas of the affections of others are converted into the very impressions they* 

*represent, and that the passions arise in conformity to the images we form of them (Hume "A Treatise of Human Nature"* 1739/1973: 2.1.11.8) [34]*.*

In his *Critique of Pure Reason,* Kant criticized certain aspects of the use of the term aesthetic saying that Baumgarten hoped to bring critical judging of the beautiful under rational principles in order to raise common rules. Like Burke and others, Kant claimed that aesthetic judgement contains an important subjective substratum that relates to internal feelings of pleasure or displeasure, and not only to the external qualities of objects. He stressed that judgement requires both emotional and intellectual capacities and that perception and cognitive reason alone cannot grasp the concept of infinity and transcendence. For Kant, there is a supra-sensible faculty of the mind that determines a form of dynamic sublime that is out of bounds in terms of magnitude (space) and time, and which evinces the power of transcendence over the limitations of the human phenomenal being (Hammermeister 2002: 33) [35]. With Kant, the experience of the sublime begins to be seen as liminal, featured by indeterminacy, infinity and resolvability [36].

In *On the Aesthetic Education of Man* (1795), Friedrich Schiller (1802–1805) explains that: "However sublime and comprehensive it may be, the content always has a restrictive action upon the spirit, and only from the form is true aesthetic freedom to be expected." (Snell 1954: 83) [37]. Schiller insists that freedom itself is something 'noumenal' (to use Kant's terminology) and, thus, it can never actually manifest itself in the realm of the senses. Schiller's position is similar to that of Hegel in that beauty is the expression of human inner freedom, a sort of harmony that emerges from the work of divine creation when organically integrated in the world.

*The reason is that even the most etherial music, by reason of its matter, has a closer affinity with the senses than true aesthetic freedom allows; that even the happiest poem still has a greater share of the arbitrary and fortuitous play of imagination, which is its medium, than the inner necessity of the truly Beautiful permits; that even the most admirable piece of sculpture—and this perhaps most of all—borders on severe science by reason of the positiveness of its conception. These special affinities, however, are lost in proportion as a work of one of these types of art attains a higher level, and it is a necessary and natural consequence of their perfection that, without shifting their objective limits, the various arts are becoming increasingly similar to each other in their effect upon our natures.* (Snell 1954: 83–84) [37].

The form and content of art are, thus, part of the platonic Idea, the divine Geist that connects everything in the world as part of one organism.

#### **3. Romanticism and the total work of art (***Gesamtkunstwerk***)**

The Romantic organic and borderless ideal began to integrate the different arts. The expression "Romantic Poetry", coined Friedrich Schlegel (1772–1829) in his *Athenaeum Fragments* 116, also highlighted the power of imagination to achieve organic aesthetic unity. However, the Romantics did not wish to replace reason with imagination, but to point out the emotional aspects that they felt were also present in the human mind.

As secularization and various revolutions set in, many scholars become interested in liberty, equality and fraternity, as well as in new forms of spiritualism and

#### *Perspective Chapter: Intermedial Comparative Literature – From the Sister-Arts Debate… DOI: http://dx.doi.org/10.5772/intechopen.112525*

mysticism, the unknown aspects of self (the unconscious and the irrational). Hindu, Gnostic and Hermetic beliefs, as well as occult traditions, inspired poets like William Blake (1757–1827), deeply influenced by the mystic Jakob Boehme (1575–1624) and by Emmanuel Swedenborg (1688–1772). Rather than a spatial focus, the struggle for dominance between the arts-focused then on ways to liberate the human from the phenomenological context and direct aesthetics towards ideals of transcendence [38].

Before Romanticism, aesthetics highlighted the ephemeral nature of artistic creation. For the Romantics, art became a way to make a moment transcend time. Poets like Schlegel and Blake put forth the idea of the artist as genius, a visionary who could enlighten and educate society, thus striking a balance between individual growth and social good. This organic social unity sought by the Romantics required reciprocity among the parts and the whole. Beyond the Cartesian mechanist focus, for the Romantics, art provides a structural and political model by virtue of its organic unity; a harmony also found in nature. In this way, it is a return to platonic tenets, also in the sense that art becomes capable of (re)enchanting the social as part of the organic whole of nature, where the totality and the parts are mutually interdependent [39]. This proposed model is aesthetic dynamic and future-oriented (teleological), beyond mechanical causality. Almost like a living force, it is self-organizing and self-generating, opening an interdisciplinary space of dialogue between the arts and the sciences. This vital principle or 'élan vital' (the term was coined by Henry Bergson in the twentieth century) was discussed for years among biologists and philosophers. The claims of Vitalism had come to the fore at the end of the eighteenth century and the early nineteenth century among the founders of modern chemistry. They influenced Romantic artists like Percy Bysshe Shelley and his wife, Mary Shelley.

The British poet William Wordsworth, for example, claimed that human beings should return to "the laws of things which lie/beyond the reach of human will or power;/The life of nature" ("The Tables Turned", *Lyrical Ballads* 1798). The way to connect with nature was to adopt a holistic approach that fused practical reason, sensibility, feeling, imagination and, above all, the aesthetic capacity of the mind. This is exemplified in Wordsworth's declaration, "All good poetry [originates in] the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings". (Preface to *Lyrical Ballads* 1800, paragraph 26). The Romantic artist is no longer a transcriber inspired by the muses or the gods, not a copier under the influence of the ancients. Coleridge also asserted that the aim of art was "the union of deep feeling with profound thought; the fine balance of truth in observing with the imaginative faculty in modifying the objects observed." (Coleridge *Biographia Literaria* Ch. 4) [40]. Another British Romantic poet, John Keats declared that "'Beauty is truth, truth beauty,'—that is all//Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know" ("Ode on a Grecian Urn" 1820). To the Romantics, the artist as prophet and visionary is capable of bringing social change through the conjunction of reason and passion, as William Blake explains in "Auguries of Innocence" (1803):

*To see a World in a Grain of Sand. And a Heaven in a Wild Flower. Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand. And Eternity in an hour […].*

As mentioned, the Romantics revised the theories of John Locke and Thomas Hobbes regarding sense perception in order to emphasize that reason alone was not sufficient, and that artists could create without world experiences, attaining inspiration from their own creative genius and divine inspiration. For them,

imagination could make the connection with the platonic realm of Ideas: the Geist. Blake's poem "The Tyger" (1794) celebrates this divine force of creation personified as the blacksmith, Hephaestus, who heats, hammers and twists the essence of life (Ideas) into shape (Forms). The strong beating and repetition of words give the lyrics a musical martial tone, creating a tension between beauty and terror that was used to illustrate Burke's notion of the sublime: "And what shoulder, & what art, Could twist the sinews of thy heart? And when thy heart began to beat, What dread hand? & what dread feet? What the hammer? What the chain, In what furnace was thy brain? What the anvil? what dread grasp, Dare its deadly terrors clasp!" [41].

In his "Defence of Poetry" (1821; published posthumously in 1840), Percy Bysshe Shelley was categorical in defending poetry as "the expression of the imagination" (12), "connate with the origin of man" (13), part of a divine plan: "A poem is the very image of life expressed in its eternal truth … the creation of actions according to the unchangeable forms of human nature, as existing in the mind of the Creator." According to Shelley, "Poetry is a mirror which makes beautiful that which is distorted", and "Poets are the unacknowledged legislators of the world", (90) stressing the impact of art upon the social by "dealing with objects not as they are, but as they appear to the mind of the poet" (cited Abrams 1953: 331) [42].

As mentioned above, Kant had moved one step forward in questioning Cartesian reason by affirming that aesthetic judgement is also subjective in that it relates to the internal feeling of pleasure or displeasure and not only to the qualities of an object. The Romantics moved even further in affirming that because of the capacity of judgement and self-judgement, artworks are self-regulatory quasi-organisms and not artefacts. Thus, beauty in nature can stimulate the feeling of infinity that is part of the sublime, with representation looking simultaneously outside and inside itself, replicating the acts of mimesis and diegesis *ad infinitum*. Aesthetics is central for the Romantic revolution in its capacity to "enchant" nature, that is, a process of rendering nature magical, mysterious and inspiring. The transcendental nature of romantic poetry suggests that it does not transcend merely the boundaries of a particular genre, but even the boundaries of the literary as such, reaching out to the other 'sister-arts' and to the realm of the social.

Crossing media borders, Wordsworth describes poetry using terms from the pictorial. He explains that poetic diction should start with the most familiar and contingent: "the incidents and situations from common life", striving to elevate them by adding "a certain colouring of the imagination, whereby ordinary things should be presented to the mind in an unusual way", and following "the primary laws of our nature" (Wordsworth Preface to the *Lyrical Ballads* 1802). According to one of the most famous scholars of Romanticism, M.H. Abrams, Wordsworth and Coleridge mixed traditionally separated genres and discursive registers in their collection of poems known as *Lyrical Ballads* (1798), a title that encapsulates the spirit of the age as it levels the popular folk ballad with the highbrow literary lyric. However, regarding the integration of various artistic forms, Wordsworth and Coleridge were more conservative:

*In the place of painting, music becomes [for the romantics] the art frequently pointed to as having a profound affinity with poetry. For if a picture seems the nearest thing to a mirror-image of the external world, music, of all the arts, is the most remote.'*  (Abrams 1953:50) [42].

#### *Perspective Chapter: Intermedial Comparative Literature – From the Sister-Arts Debate… DOI: http://dx.doi.org/10.5772/intechopen.112525*

Indeed, music was considered as the paradigmatic art form to which poetry aspired because it was untainted by any worldly concerns and material embodiment. This valorisation of sound over visible forms of expression is observed in Wordsworth's *The Prelude* (1805). The author reflects on his childhood and youth memories which "felt what'er there is of power in sound/To breathe an elevated mood, by form/Or image unprofaned" (II, ll. 321–326). He soon discovers "such a holy calm/ Did overspread my soul that I forgot/That I had bodily eyes, and what I saw/Appeared like something in myself, a dream/A prospect in my mind." (II, ll. 367–371).

Music was also in agreement with this emphasis on the invisible and on transcending mere sense perception in order to cultivate an inner and imaginative mode of perception: "a tone and spirit of unity that blends, and (as it were) fuses, each into each, by the synthetic and magical power, to which I would exclusively appropriate the name of Imagination." (Coleridge *Biographia Literaria*, Chap. XIV) In a lecture on Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet (1811), Coleridge stressed that "the power of genius was not in elaborating a picture." For him, "The grandest efforts of poetry […] where the imagination is called forth, is not to produce a distinct form, but a strong working of the mind"; not "the substitution of a sublime feeling of the unimaginable for a mere image." (Coleridge *Lectures on Shakespeare* 1811–1819). The sublime becomes in Coleridge the power to reveal something about the world that cannot be known through perception and reason; only through imagination [42].

Although Wordsworth and Coleridge might have been reluctant to include the visual in their conceptions of transcendence and imagination, well into the 1800s, other Romantic artists began to expand the limits of representation and the political by producing poems to memorialize different pieces of art. There are several reasons behind this re-evaluation of the sister-arts taking place in Europe. Alongside the discovery of ancient artworks in various excavations (Herculaneum had been discovered in 1738 and Pompeii in 1748), the unstable situation, with various wars and new emerging nations, triggered a concern for the preservation of artworks. Various museums had been established; for example the British Museum in 1759, the Louvre in 1793 and UK National Gallery in 1824. Public intellectuals, such as Sir Joshua Reynolds at the British Royal Academy, or the archaeologist and art historian Johann Winckelmann were invited to lecture and raise awareness on the cultural and national value of art.

Among the memorializing activities, we can mention the Newdigate Prize Competition, established by Oxford University in 1806 to acknowledge the best ekphrastic poem stimulated by the excavations taking place (Larrabee 1943:261) [43]. There was also an expansion of engraving technologies and, in the mid-1850s, the development of the daguerreotype and photography (Wells 2016), all of which drew artists to experiment with forms of recreation in different art forms. Lee Erickson has traced the turn towards ekphrasis and pictorialist description in the nineteenth century to the impact of art annuals, where engravings and poetry were displayed hand in hand. For instance, the commemorative engraved plates pictured in annuals were often accompanied by poetic descriptions. Erickson notes that "the shift from a romantic to a Victorian poetic stemmed directly from the popular pressure exerted by the publishing market on poetry to conform to a purely pictorial aesthetic" (1996: 40) [44].

The contemporary understanding of the *Gesamtkunstwerk* could be said to emerge from the Romantic utopian mindset that contemplated imagination as the supreme form of mental expression and the later move towards the idea that artistic disciplines shared the same aim—the expression of feelings. As mentioned before, the idea was

put forth by Trahndorff. However, composer Richard Wagner (1813–1883) reformulated it in his musical performances. Wagner envisioned opera as a fusion of music, poetry and painting, and created a complex collection of leitmotifs and recurring themes associated with the characters and themes of his compositions, many of them inspired in stories from the Germanic tradition and Arthurian legends. His ideas can be considered a version of intermediality that synthesizes various modes of forms into a universal, all-embracing artwork. Additionally, we can affirm that the evolution of intermedial concerns contemplates not only a growing dialogue between text, sound, images and other art forms but also an increase in audience engagement.

It is important to return to scientific advances and their impact on the philosophical and artistic discussion on intermediality. In the 1800s, Scottish scientist Sir David Brewster (1781–1868) was working on optics and used similes from biology and painting to explain how the 'mind's eye' is actually the body's eye and that impressions were 'painted' on the retina, receiving visual existence according to "the same optical laws" as in painting (*Fraser's Magazine,* Vol. 11, 1832: 648) [45]. Louis Daguerre and William Henry Fox Talbot announced the success of their photographic 'camera obscura' devices around the same time. And Thomas Carlyle coined the term 'visuality' and the verb 'visualizing' in a series of writings between 1837 and 1841. Carlyle described his work as the embodiment of the 'eye of history' that captured the 'whole' by means of what he called "a succession of vivid pictures" [46]. Carlyle distinguished between 'inward' and 'outward' visual impressions, holding that both were meaningless unless motivated by the inner or spiritual eye. In a letter he received from his friend, Ralph Waldo Emerson, the North-American philosopher noted that "I think you see in pictures". Emerson's remark implied that it was possible to see otherwise, referring to the previous prominence of text over image [47].

The Victorian art-critic John Ruskin (1819–1900) also tried to reformulate the idea of *ut pictura poesis* in his book *Modern Painters* (1856). He claimed that painting "is properly to be opposed to speaking or writing but not to poetry [for both] painting and speaking are methods of expression" (Landow "Ruskin and the *ut pictura poesis* tradition" 1971: 43–53) [48]. Similarly, Walter Pater (1839–1894) thought that.

*Although each art has thus its own specific order of impressions, and an untranslatable charm, while a just apprehension of the ultimate differences of the arts is the beginning of aesthetic criticism; yet it is noticeable that, in its special mode of handling its given material, each art may be observed to pass into the condition of some other art, by what German critics term as Anders-streben– a partial alienation from its own limitations, through which the arts are able, not indeed to supply the place to each other, but reciprocally to lend each other new forces.* (1893/1980: 105) [49]*.*

Thus, in the second part of the nineteenth century, social conditions as well as technological advances in the reproduction of images introduced changes in the debate on the sister-arts. One example of the intermedial genres that emerged during the second half of the nineteenth century is the feuilleton, a term that originates from the French *feuillet* (meaning leaf of a book) and consisting of a non-political supplement to newspapers that chronicled on the literature, art and cultural issues. The term was first used by the editors of the *Journal des Débats* in a supplement that appeared in their journal on 28th Jan 1800. In 1836, the Paris newspaper *La Presse* began to circulate a separate section under the same title. It established particular forms of typesetting and included vignettes with informal and humorous satirical content. The feuilleton became widespread in other European countries as a genre of masses.

#### *Perspective Chapter: Intermedial Comparative Literature – From the Sister-Arts Debate… DOI: http://dx.doi.org/10.5772/intechopen.112525*

As noted, the growing number of images in print media was possible due to technological advances in printing and distribution as well as due to laws that reduced taxes on paper and publication. In Britain, many novels appeared as either monthly or weekly instalments after the successful publication of Charles Dickens' *The Pickwick Papers* (1836) [50]. The use of images contributed to the popularization of the serial market and the rise of literacy. Dicken's example shows that the close relationship between illustration and writing. If the illustrator was a renowned painter, the work acquired greater value. Because of a number of technological and economic factors, the periodical market began to grow. In Britain, while some periodicals like *Blackwood* or *Cornhill* magazines preferred serials, some miscellany weeklies started to publish very short stories (no more than 4000 words to be read in under 50 minutes) as well as series. The form of the series was inaugurated by Conan Doyle's Sherlock Holmes stories, which did not require knowledge of any previous instalments (unlike the serial, each instalment of a series was a complete narrative unit). These new formats were destined to satisfy the development of primary and secondary schools after the 1870 Education Act, and in the early 1900s, the transformation of static images (photography) into moving images (film).

After 1860s, photography had become popular and accessible. Its introduction represented a challenge to artistic creation as it was seen to come to replace painting. Many critics of the time mourned the death of imaginative creation. However, long before collage techniques were used by the avant-garde artists of the early twentieth century, a group of aristocratic Victorian women began experimenting with handcraft design, photo collage and painterly collage, playing with different materials. The term 'collage' comes from French and means to glue or paste together. The technique involves cutting up pieces, in this case, photographic portraits, placing them alongside watercolour paintings and text pieces in personal albums. Collage simultaneously separates and connects different elements in a spatial–temporal continuum, creating an almost cinematic experience and, because of the different textures and configurations, adding perspectival depth. Differences in colour could also create the effect of layering, since each colour has a specific expression of density and profundity. Examples of this feminine craft came from all over Europe, including the French Marie-Blanche-Hennelle Fournier (1831–1906), the English Georgina Berkeley (1831–1919), Constance Sackville-West (1846–1929), or Kate Edith Gough (1856–1948). These albums often criticized the social circles and politics of the time, as in Eva Macdonald's "What Are Trumps?" from *the Westmorland Album* (1869) [51]. Collage is a good expression of intermediate transformation because the photographs, paintings and texts used in these works were in themselves incoherent, allowing the perception of different visual layers and anticipating the notion of temporal simultaneity as captured in a spatial configuration.

#### **4. Twentieth-century avant-Garde and the birth of media studies**

So far, this chapter has provided an overview of the European debate over the relationships between the arts, technological development, and the origin of the interest in Intermedial Studies. The debate on the sister-arts has shown that, despite the belief in a kind of subordination of images to the higher power of imagination conveyed by words, there are many examples where painting and poetry function together. For instance, the canvases of Claude Lorrain and Salvatore Rosa influenced the landscape poetry of the eighteenth century. The British Romantic poet John Keats took details for his "Ode on a Grecian Urn" from a painting by Claude Lorrain. In the late nineteenth century, the Parnassian movement in France, named after the sacred mountain of Apollo and the Muses in ancient Greece, owes much the visual arts, as can be seen in the works of artists like Théophile Gautier, Théodore de Banville, Stéphane Mallarmé, or Paul Verlaine. Mallarmé's "L'après-midi d'un faune" was inspired by a painting by François Boucher, kept in the National Gallery in London. In his well-known sonnet "Correspondences", which explores synesthetic relations among sensorial perceptions, Baudelaire wrote that "les parfums, les couleurs et les sons se répondent" (1857: 19–20) [52].

Although the influence of non-Western cultures lies beyond the scope of this chapter, we have already suggested some intercultural crossings. The earliest illuminated manuscripts in Europe came from the Byzantium and the Eastern Roman Empire. Constantinople, now Istanbul, was a melting pot of Asian and European cultures, and exchanges were also common along the Silk Road. Chinese and Indian art, iconicity had always played an important role. Chinese ideograms were used in ancient Chinese pattern poetry. Some poems were written in particular shapes like *huiwen* ('circular' poems), *baota* ('pagoda' poems) and *wugui* ('tortoise' poems) [53]. Eastern influences may be present in the early visual poems of the *carmina figurata*, compositions where the graphic layout of the text resembled the concept described, pictorializing text content either in the form of a silhouette or integrating the image into a text. Illuminated manuscripts also included rubrics, miniature illustrations and initials drawn by hand, as we have already mentioned. Additionally, poems from different periods show the system of reciprocal analogies between texts and images exploring iconotextuality in visual poetry. Some examples are François Rabelais' "epilenie" (in *Les Aventures de Pantagruel* 1537), George Herbert's The Altar" (1633), Lewis Carroll's "Long and Sad Tail of the Mouse" from *Alice in Wonderland* (1865), Dylan Thomas' "Vision and Prayer" (1944), e. e. cummings' "L(a" (1958) or Edwin Morgan's "Siesta of a Hungarian Snake"(1971).

The impact of Chinese and Indian art in the Western avant-gardes has not been sufficiently explored. Whether the proverb "a picture is worth a thousand words" comes from Confucius or not is a matter of controversy. What is undeniable is the fact that the various art movements of the early twentieth century-Cubism, Surrealism, Futurism, Dadaism, Constructivism, Bauhaus, etc., proposed a transformation in the way of contemplating art, both in their artistic works as well as through proclamations and manifestos. The borders between text and image, between calligraphy, typography, painting and imagery, began to disappear. In painting, a certain autonomy came from the artists' liberation from the sacred and the writings of the past, as well as through contamination with other cultures, beliefs and techniques. A certain rebellion against perspective interrogates the self-reflexive representation of the medium in the fractured planes of Cubist art, the disjointed figures of Expressionist painting, or in the hybrid juxtapositions of Surrealist imagery.

The transformation of static images (photography) into moving images (film) had a fundamental impact. An early device known as 'cinématographe' had been invented by the French Léon Bouly in the 1890s. Louis Le Prince registered the first British patent for a camera that was capable of filming motion and later created a device that could project images in rapid succession using a Geneva drive. The Lumière brothers expanded these technologies and produced the first firm of their workers leaving the factory (*Sortie de l'usine Lumière de Lyon*) in 1895. Their camera incorporated also a projector and it weighed much less than a similar invention created in the United States by William K. Dickson and Thomas Edison known as 'kinetoscope'

#### *Perspective Chapter: Intermedial Comparative Literature – From the Sister-Arts Debate… DOI: http://dx.doi.org/10.5772/intechopen.112525*

or 'kinetograph'. The cinématographe was portable and could shoot outdoors on location. In the meantime, Edison turned his attention to projector technology with devices such as the 'photoscope' and the 'vitascope'. By the 1900s, Edison and his associates were experimenting with sound effects using the phonograph (later known as gramophone). They produced synchronized sound recordings by the end of the 1920s [54].

Among the intermedial experiments used to create the sense of depth in acoustic space was the phenomenon known as 'projicience', which equated loud sounds with nearby events and quiet sounds with far-away events creating the synesthetic sensation of distance and panoramic movement. Borrowing techniques from serialized narratives, phonographic performers and scriptwriters of the first decade of the twentieth century explored techniques for constructing a story based on adding episodes with common motifs, which created sonic recurrences (Feaster & Smith 2009). Nowadays, TV serials and series use multi-layered narrative lines that add complexity, as in HBO production *Westworld* [39].

The first weekly fan magazine in the UK, *The Pictures*, was created at the end of 1911, after the North American Vitagraph Studios' *Motion Picture Story Magazine* (MPSM). Vitagraph was later bought by Warner Bros. in 1925. Within months, other companies created their own magazines to advertise their movies as well as sell posters and place advertisements. These magazines amounted to a sort of paratext as well as a product line, much like today's transmedial products that release the same story concept in multiple media simultaneously (one of the first film websites accompanied the movie *The Blair Witch Project* in 1999, destined to make the plot believable). Ben Singer has argued that these early forms of fan-fiction were essential in helping early cinema "to transform itself into a storytelling medium" (1993: 489) [55]. It was very difficult for the audiences of early silent movies to make sense of the plot without a supporting text and "filmmakers and spectators may have relied on them as a key to narrative comprehension" (1993: 499) [55]. However, the intermedial format of motion-picture story magazines also reversed the dependency of images from texts, highlighting that movies could be fully appreciated without having read the story. The purpose of these magazines was not to present the narrative lines of the movies, since unrelated juxtaposed images would always yield some kind of semiotic connection, but to explain that this new media used different techniques and linguistic forms to narrate.

The influence of cinematography was felt strongly in the aesthetic sensibilities of the *avant-gardes*. Playing with figuration by using iconic and indexical signs along with texts, the Surrealists subverted the factual logic of images and the idea of cinema as a realist medium. They found in cinema a dream machine that could stage the unconscious, the irrational and the hallucinatory, as explored by Roland Barthes (*Camera Lucida* 1980). André Breton's "Manifesto of Surrealism" stated that dream and reality, "which are seemingly so contradictory", could be fused "into a kind of absolute reality, a surreality, if one may so speak" (1924/1994: 14) [56]. Dreams capture emotional content in a way that consciousness cannot. Surrealism was trying to find in art an expression for emotions and irrationality for which different kinds of signs were needed. This attempt explains their experiments in bringing together different sign systems, the iconic, the indexical and the symbolic, in compositions such as Guillaume Apollinaire's "Il pleut." Calligrams were a violent attempt to dissociate word from content matter by reducing it to a mere graphic sign. This violence is even more evident in Luis Buñuel and Salvador Dalí's landmark movie *Un chien andalou* (1929). The denaturalization of time, its experience (or temporarility) and

narrativity were also explored in Buñuel and Dalí's *L'âge d'or* (1930), and it is evident in one of Dalí's most singular images: his melting watches, found most famously in his painting "The Persistence of Memory" (1931). The relationship between perception, representation, imagination, random events and automatisation was another area of interest. Their experiments in automatic writing tried to access a sort of repository of all knowledge (previous and future; sometimes known as the Akashic records). They thought that it could not be reached by rational means, only by instinct and chance. For example, they used games like posing questions about everyday objects and tried to respond spontaneously in order to uncover facets of irrational knowledge (a process known as surrealist enlargement).

The interests of Futurists, like Filippo Tommaso Marinetti, were also the result not only of emerging technologies but also of new scientific concepts in Physics. Kinetic sculpture was one of the artistic forms explored in trying to capture movement in static art pieces. Physical material properties acquired great importance, and unconventional materials began to be incorporated. Multi-sensory experiments in print included typographic innovation, ink colours, paper textures and collage. These experiments looked beyond the lettered words themselves, exploring layout, spacing, or the pictorial aspects of colour. The Futurists coined neologisms like 'polyexpressivity' or 'multisensoriality' to define mixed media art products, foregrounding the material aspects of language by focusing on graphical coding, the acoustic and the visual [57]. Some authors also experimented with the subversion of alphabetic language [58] and a return to child games, for the image or icon may have been seen as the childhood of the sign, without the complex semantic properties of discourse [59].

Abstraction became prominent, connected perhaps, to a desire to resist the rule of words and narratives. The story of sequential images yields interesting ideas because even if abstraction points to the non-figurative and non-narrative, a contiguous sequence of abstract images might convey a story. Jan Baetens raises this point when examining abstraction in comics. His works defend the need of a medium-specific approach in order to explain the "degrees of narrativity" (2011: 106) that might be involved even in abstract art [60]. In *Un chien andalou* Buñuel and Dalí, played with a series of discontinuous images to encourage free associations on the part of their spectators. This experiment would break the narrativity of the movie. The pictorial works of Mondrian, Kandisky and Klee developed free techniques to replace images with abstract signs. Abstract expressionism or *Art Informel* (art without form) also fled from any narrative component. Man Ray's "rayograph" experiments in photography are yet another example. In Marcel Duchamp's photography "Autour d'une table" (1917), Duchamp places a snapshot of himself multiplied around a circular table in a mesmerizing way that simulates the action of a mirror. His idea was to question 'self' expression and demonstrate that the creative act is not performed by the artist alone. The spectator brings the work in contact with the external world, interpreting and contributing to the creative event. For André Bazin (1945) the photographic experience is intermedial in that it reveals the world anew, forged between the camera's contribution (technical medium) and the viewer (natural medium), in an union of perception as well as the viewer's previous knowledge and imagination. Roland Barthes also claimed that desacralization of the author was initiated in the *avantgardes*, although we have seen that much older strategies of viewer engagement were used in 'inter-media' collaboration.

These experiments with abstraction, sequence, figuration and non-figuration also appear in visual poetry, concrete poetry [58, 61] and conceptual art [62, 63]. Concrete poetry focuses on visual and/or aural substance to the detriment of sense. As Ezra

#### *Perspective Chapter: Intermedial Comparative Literature – From the Sister-Arts Debate… DOI: http://dx.doi.org/10.5772/intechopen.112525*

Pound would have it in "A Few Don't by an Imagiste" (1913): "the natural object is always the adequate symbol." Object poetry or sound poetry enabled a greater interplay of perceptual modes, enhancing diverse forms of emotional and aesthetic charge, even in the absence of meaning [64]. The *avant-gardes* also tried to achieve political impact and revolution through formal innovation because, as William Burroughs put it in the Electronic Revolution (1970), the word is recognized as a virus because it has achieved a state of stable symbiosis with the host.

In *Finnegans Wake* (1937), James Joyce described cross-perceptual synesthetic experiments as "verbovicovisual". He had previously played with perceptual multimodality in his *Ulysses* (1922). Virginia Woolf's early essays—"Street Music" (1905), "The Opera" (1906), and "Impressions at Bayreuth" (1909)—deal with music as subject-matter, and she frequently uses music figuratively as well as painting musically, as in *To the Lighthouse* (1927) and in *Between the Acts* (1941). Some pieces of concrete poetry, like e. e. cummings's "L(a", have made their way into the digital media, adapted to pieces of electronic literature, transmediated into "The Sweet Old Etcetera" by Alison Clifford (2006). Others explore kinetic typography, that is, the animation of images and sound. These experimental works can be considered the forerunners of contemporary e-poetry which, interestingly, questions the narratological turn involved in the notion of 'transmedial narrative' [65]. Artists such as Paul Klee, Antoni Tàpies or Cy Twombly also convert pictures into script bringing out the scriptural dimension of images. These relationships foreground the inevitable cultural hierarchies that qualify media and intersect with valuations of the sensorial modalities in particular spatiotemporal contexts. As already noted, while it is possible to read images as texts, in ekphrasis, it is also possible to approach writing visually and use a series of images to construct a narrative.

*Avant-garde* experimentation also coincided with the rise of Formalism and Structuralism. In his essay "Art as Technique", Viktor Shklovsky explained that, in reading, understanding first moves along the recognition of words in the text, shifting then to an interpretative non-linear locus where "a more complex rhythm" emerges; and even "a disruption of rhythm itself, a violation, we may add, that can never be predicted" (1965: 14) [66]. Thus, interpretation sways the text beyond the linearity of reading to the aural temporal dimension of mental associations and the flight of the mind. Defamiliarization, as formulated by Shklovsky, was a device to present common things in an unfamiliar or strange way so that audiences could gain new perspectives on the world. Shklovsky considered that works of art modify perception in order to raise cognitive awareness of how knowledge is produced. These ideas deeply influenced *avant-garde* art and theory, from Dada cut-ups to culture jamming as well as contemporary cinematography (i.e. David Cronenberg, David Lynch, Guy Maddin, or Jan Švankmajer). It has also become relevant in contemporary posthumanism, which interrogates itself as to the mechanisms by means of which nonhumans might convey meanings [67].

The term 'intermedia' was popularized by artist Dick Higgins to describe artistic activities within the *Fluxus* movement. A similar term, 'intermedium' had been previously used in a letter by Coleridge in 1812, but he never developed it. Higgins acknowledged Coleridge's influence and expanded the concept to describe artworks "in which the materials of various more established art forms are 'conceptually fused' rather than merely juxtaposed." (*Something Else Press* Vol.1, Iss.11963: 18) [68]. Fluxus was an international community of artists from a wide range of areas, literature, visual design, music, sculpture, video art and so on, who developed experimental performances in the mid-1960s and 1970s. Fluxus performances were intended to bridge the gap between

art and society. It was a communal experiment to establish collective workshops, cooperatives warehouses and exhibition spaces, like the arts centre FluxFarm in New Marlborough, Massachusetts. Notable influences were Marcel Duchamp as well as musician John Cage. A manifesto was put forth in 1963 by art historian George Maciunas, a founding member of the group. However, it was not adopted by an eclectic community that did not consider itself a unified movement. For the first time, women artists were founding members of the community, including, for example, Yoko Ono (and her partner John Lennon) and feminist activist Kate Millett [69]. The community dissolved after Maciunas' death in 1978. The influence of Fluxus continued and is still present today in multi-media digital art performances. The term intermediality was used in 1990 as part of the Edge'90 "Art & Life in the Nineties", which followed the Fluxus spirit. Also in the 1990s, Higgins created the Fluxlist Blog an online intermedia community of Fluxlist members.

One of the most important Fluxus characteristics was the elimination of boundaries, not only between art and life but also between the arts themselves. The impact of Japanese culture in Fluxus still remains to an object of further research [70]. Fundamentally, artists in Fluxus wanted to explore what happens when different media intersect. This sense of media heterogeneity can be seen connected to the growing dependency of artists, and society in general, on media technologies. The post-medium condition is partly defined by the fact that artists work across a range of different modalities and medialities, combining them for various purposes and effects, and contributing to blur intermedial boundaries.

#### **5. Conclusions**

Intermediality is a multi-layered concept that involves a cluster of aspects that range from sensorial configurations to material and technical media, including also the sociological and cultural aspects that qualify media and cause a particular technical apparatus to be developed, accepted and popularized. Intermedial Studies explore art forms as having no borders. Perhaps because of the neuroplasticity of the human brain, our artistic creations are also plastic contact zones.

To look at art history is, in fact, to contemplate media history, the manifestation of the specific possibilities of each medium and their reciprocal sociocultural capacity of influence through representation. The history of art is inextricably linked to the development of different media. From cave paintings to oil paintings, from sculptures to photography and film, each new medium has opened up new possibilities for artists to create and express themselves. Moreover, each new medium has also influenced the way artists have approached their craft, shaping their techniques, styles and artistic visions.

As seen in this overview, until the twentieth century, the discussion on intermediality largely involved philosophers as well as artists and writers. The invention of the printing press appeared in relation to the new materiality of paper formats. Gradually, printing also evolved, to include engraving, etching and other techniques on a variety of materials. The nineteenth century saw the birth of photography and, soon after, film and later video making. With digital media convergence, screens became part of our lives. After the 1990s, a number of monographs and compilations from diverse disciplinary and methodological backgrounds, including literary studies, music, theatre, film, television, video, etc., saw the light coinciding with the great shift caused by the rapid growth of digital technologies. Thus, this research is extended in another chapter, part of IntechOpen volume *The Intermediality of Contemporary Visual Arts.*

*Perspective Chapter: Intermedial Comparative Literature – From the Sister-Arts Debate… DOI: http://dx.doi.org/10.5772/intechopen.112525*

### **Author details**

Asun López-Varela Azcárate Complutense University of Madrid, Madrid, Spain

\*Address all correspondence to: alopezva@ucm.es

© 2023 The Author(s). Licensee IntechOpen. This chapter is distributed under the terms of the Creative Commons Attribution License (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0), which permits unrestricted use, distribution, and reproduction in any medium, provided the original work is properly cited.

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#### **Chapter 2**

## Biofiction and History: A Comparative Reading of the Lives of Captain Cook, Sultan Selim III, and Kuchuk Huseyin Pasha

*Gönül Bakay*

#### **Abstract**

Biofiction is a hybrid literary genre that appropriates historical lives and molds them into the subject of fiction; it uses historical characters rather than representing them. This literary genre, which has stimulated a vast array of reactions over the past few decades, is not a branch of history or biography. Anna Enquist's 2005 novel *The Homecoming* is a successful example of biofiction that revolves around the illustrious life of Thomas Cook but tells the story from the perspective of his wife Elizabeth Cook. Through the reconstructed voices of these historical figures, the reader is offered alternative perspectives into their lives as well as into the British Empire in the eighteenth century. Stanford Shaw's critically acclaimed *Between Old and New* (1971), on the other hand, is a history book that aims to offer a factual representation of the eighteenth-century Ottoman Empire, particularly the reign of Sultan Selim III. This chapter aims to examine the interesting parallels and differences in the lives of these historical figures as depicted in a work of biofiction and a history book and show how differences in genre implicate the portrayal of historical figures.

**Keywords:** homecoming, discontent, trauma, colonialism, biofiction, history

#### **1. Introduction**

Although homecoming has traditionally been associated with happiness and contentment, this is not always the case. Anna Enquist's internationally bestselling biofiction, *The Homecoming* (2005), examines the unhappy life of Elizabeth Cook, the wife of the famous eighteenth-century explorer Captain Cook. Elizabeth suffers the terrible losses of her six children and is forced to deal with life's problems on her own, while she finally realizes that the sea represents "home" for her husband who can only find happiness and contentment away from land. In the case of Captain Cook, one can surmise that he experiences homesickness not when he is away from home, but when he is away from the sea, which represents the true home-environment he belongs to. In the Ottoman Empire, Captain Cook's contemporary Sultan Selim III ordered his chief naval captain, Kuchuk Huseyin Pasha, to travel to faraway places and record

the latest naval developments. Under the leadership of Kuchuk Huseyin Pasha, the Mediterranean was cleansed of pirates and alongside the English, a successful expedition was conducted against Napoleon that forced him to abandon Egypt. Similar to Captain Cook who aimed to establish an orderly and strong crew, the Ottoman Emperor Selim III aimed to establish a new army independent of the Janissaries who were causing a great deal of unrest and trouble.

Both Captain Cook and Selim III were killed by the people who opposed their beliefs and ideals. *The Homecoming* is a biofiction, whereas Stanford Shaw's *Between Old and New* is a history book. This chapter aims to examine the interesting parallels in the lives of Captain Cook, Selim III, and Kuchuk Huseyin Pasha as depicted in *The Homecoming* and *Between Old and New*. Drawing on these two books, this chapter will examine how the fascinating lives of these two important figures of the eighteenth century are represented in two different genres: history and biofiction. As methodology, contemporary and previous literature will be examined. I will first explain the genre of biofiction and examine a number of representative examples. Then, I will present an examination of *The Homecoming* as an example of biofiction and of the depiction of Sultan Selim III and Kuchuk Huseyin Pasha in the history book *Between Old and New.* Finally, I will conclude with a comparison of these historical figures and discuss how the genre employed implicates the portrayal of these extraordinary men.

The subject of individual lives, especially the lives of historically significant figures, has always attracted the attention of readers. Carlyle, for instance, recommended the study of biography as a gateway to history, although he considered the life of every individual unfathomable ([1], p. 149). In his words: "History is the essence of innumerable biographies. But if one biography, nay, our own biography, study and recapitulate it as much as we may, remains in so many points unintelligible to us, how much more must these million, the very fact of which, to say nothing of the purport of them, we know not, and cannot know" (p. 149).

In its inception, "Biofiction was a response against and a counter to the determinism and even fatalism on which historical fiction is premised" ([1], p. 12). Oscar Wilde and Lytton Stratchey adopted this form because in his "The Portrait of MR. W. H," Wilde fictionalized a real person in order to create a new way of thinking and being for his age (p. 12). In this sense, the main questions that come up with this genre are: How far can the writer stretch the fictionalization of a historical figure? How and to what extent can the writer stay true toward personality while moving through the different degrees of fictionalization? As Middekke further suggests, "Biofiction does not accurately represent either the biographical subject or the historical past. Rather the author of biofiction fictionalized a historical person's life in order to project into existence his or her own vision of life and the world" (p. 13). Biofiction came into being as a reaction to the determinism of the historical novel. Agency is of crucial importance in this genre. In biofiction, the writer offers his own vision of life.

Scott believed that in her biographical novel about Schiele, that art is a medium that should inspire an active form of critical perception. Middeke observes: "Through its account of the life of others, it shows us how to live. The popularity of the biography exists in direct proportion to our need to feel that life, in a world of disharmony, dishonor and strife, must have value" ([2], pp. 134–136). As Linda Hutcheon suggests, "Contemporary biofictions deconstruct Romantic originality, a last trace of which cannot be set aside. These works question the past but they do not reject it entirely. There is no question that the past existed: the question is how to gain knowledge of the past and make it valuable for the present" ([3], p. 93).

#### *Biofiction and History: A Comparative Reading of the Lives of Captain Cook, Sultan Selim III… DOI: http://dx.doi.org/10.5772/intechopen.111729*

A brief review of previous works of biofiction may provide more insights into what biofiction authors intend to accomplish:

Peter Ackroyd's *Chatterton* (1988) is a book in which the writer problematizes life writing. Ackroyd uses a lot of intertextuality in his book. Nünning argues that "Ackroyd's novel can be seen as a typical example of a new generic variant of the fictional biography that might be designated "fictional metabiography in that it is a novel concerned with the recording of history and the problems of biography" ([1], p. 29). Like many other fictional biographies, *Chatterton* is a multilayered and multiperspective novel that is set in three different centuries and narrated in different voices.

Another representative example is Judith Chernaik's rendering of Shelley's circle in *Mab's Daughters: Shelley's Wives and Lovers: Their Own Story*. The novel deals with the historical, autobiographical, and feminist issues in Shelley's time. The writer constructs and deconstructs the major events in Shelley's life by reflecting the perspectives of the four women involved: Harriet, Mary, Mary's stepsister Clare, and her half-sister Fanny. The stories of these four women are well documented in their letters and journals.

Chernaik's novel likewise raised the expectation in readers to find out the truth behind the stories: How did these women respond to the problems of illegitimacy, betrayal, and suicide in the eighteenth century? How did they truly feel about these events? Were they jealous, depressed, or suicidal? The readers were interested in finding out about these issues from the women's point of view. Neumeier states that "Chernaik is more interested in this novel in investigating how the intricate relations of life and death are linked within the Shelley circle to the gender relations" ([1], p. 109).

Annegret Maack has analyzed Byron's and Polidori's Memoirs. Paul West's *Lord Byron's Daughter* and Robert Nye's *The Memoirs of Lord Byron* are examined as the leading figures of the Romantic movement. In Paul West's biofiction, Polidori defines himself as Byron's Doctor in his memoirs. He always tries to imitate Byron; the way he dresses, his sexual mores, and, after an accident, he even adopts Byron's limp. Polidori refers to Byron as "the famous rake in England" ([1], p. 141). Maack uses a very different style in her biofiction by transcending both time and place. Polidori, like a ghost present in events he could not have known, brings a different tone to this biofiction. He even reports of Claire's death saying: "I saw her long after we were all dust, an old lady with curls" ([1], p. 143).

These examples of biofiction illustrate how this fascinating genre can provide a very intellectually stimulating and emotionally engaged reading experience for the reader. As Russell Banks, the writer of the biographical novel titled *Cloudsplitter*, suggests: "I'm using history in order to tell a story." Thus, what he as a novelist presents to readers "is different from the character invented by the biographer or historian." Banks specifies that the "novelist is trying to present, in a sense I suppose, a higher truth, a truth of what it is to be a human being" ([4], p. 2). From this perspective, in offering a fictional retelling of historical events and figures, writers of biofiction do not claim to offer the factual truth but rather a series of insights into varieties of the human condition.

#### **2. Homecoming and its discontents**

In light of these preliminary observations, *The Homecoming* fuses biography with fiction to offer a retelling of the famous Captain James Cook's life through the eyes of his wife. Similar to some of the examples of biofiction cited above, the novel places the perspective of the female character in the center and retells events through her reconstructed voice. Elizabeth Cook's story is the story of a young wife with children who was forced to lead a solitary life because her husband was away most of the time traveling around the globe. In the absence of her adventureseeking husband, Elizabeth was left to her own devices to cope with life's hardships. Sometimes, a small amount of money would arrive from the Admiralty in her name. It wasn't charity, or a tip, it was the money given to the wife of a man who was exploring the world.

Elizabeth thinks that when her husband returns in fall, it will be 12 years since they had been married and yet they had not spent an entire year under the same roof. Elizabeth reflects on his return and considers the things that had to be done: the clothes to be mended, things to be discarded, seeds to be planted in the garden, and preserves to be prepared. She reminiscences about the time when they met; she was working at her uncle's shop that sold ship's supplies. James Cook, 14 years her senior, had come to buy supplies from there. They immediately got on very well. Soon, his plans became their plans. Together, they had furnished their house like a ship; everything in its place. When he left, she was already pregnant. Children came one after another and along with children the deaths… Elizabeth was always alone in dealing with the disasters and life's many other challenges. She did not want her husband to go on the difficult voyages but she could not stop him. She remained acutely aware of the fact that this was his calling.

Captain James Cook took his calling very seriously. He worked for long hours, making calculations, writing on the margins, sometimes cursing and closing the books, and other times slamming the books in triumph. Elizabeth always listened to the stories of his travels, the unexplored coasts, the riots on the ships, the hurricanes, and various other dangers he was faced with… The couple decide to visit James's father after his first voyage around the world. The trip turns out to be a horrible experience for Elizabeth who is not welcome in the cold, stuffy house of James's sister, Margaret. James's father and sister continuously stare at her without talking. Elizabeth misses her children terribly and wants to return home. Meanwhile, James visits John Walker who had taught him how to build a ship and is very happy. He wants Elizabeth to go to Whitby with him to pay him a visit but Elizabeth refuses. Although Elizabeth usually accepts James' wishes, she feels that this time it is too much for her. She is adamant and James observes: "Not everyone can endure Yorkshire" ([5], p. 17).

By the time James leaves for his second voyage around the world, Elizabeth is pregnant again. She takes the boys to watch their father's ship sail. James had suggested she "keep a home logbook." This way when he returned, he would know in detail what had happened during his absence. Elizabeth writes a belated birthday message to her husband when he turns 44. It certainly is not a happy letter. Their newborn son Georgie had died of a sudden fever; all the bloodletting and oils did not help and he died on the first of October. Even after a month, Elizabeth could still not leave her home. She somehow felt that as long as James did not know about this death, it could not be true.

Elizabeth has a close friend, Francis, who is married and lives in America and who writes letters giving her courage. Hugh Palliser, another captain, arrives in their home and Elizabeth leans on his hairy arm with his sleeve drawn up, and he smooths her hair giving her comfort. She needs the warmth… She thinks that soon her son Jamie would be leaving for the Naval Academy. Hugh Palliser tells him of men who eat human beings. The child is upset. He asks why his father does not destroy them.

#### *Biofiction and History: A Comparative Reading of the Lives of Captain Cook, Sultan Selim III… DOI: http://dx.doi.org/10.5772/intechopen.111729*

Hugh Palliser answers that they are a different race and their customs and beliefs are different. James was simply trying to understand them, not change them.

Her husband was soon to come back home and Elizabeth was determined to be a tower of strength for his return. She thought about her husband. She had never been able to understand his love of the sea. She thought of the enormity of the vast oceans and also remembered that he did not know how to swim. She could not understand this. If one loved the water then, one should want to be free and familiar in it. But that was the way her husband felt. Meanwhile, she had given birth to a girl, Ellie, in her husband's absence. She was always full of joy, had never been ill a day. Elizabeth blamed herself for her death. She was washing sheets with her friend Francis. Her mind was elsewhere and suddenly she hears the hooves of a horse and the shouting. Ellie was lying motionless on the pavement; her wooden horse was standing intact as if nothing had happened. Elizabeth had forgotten to lock the door opening into the garden. She recounts all of this to her husband and he cries silently. In turn, her husband tells her of their expedition to Batavia and how he had allowed his men to go ashore. It was a wrong decision. He had lost 30 men there. Getting stuck in the reef was his fault, he adds. He should have protected his men better.

"I've been summoned by the king" James tells his wife, "and you will accompany me." She is excited for him. Elizabeth notices that her husband is relaxed and sure of himself when he meets the members of the high admiralty, and the King. Before, he used to be shy with strangers because of his lowly upbringing but not anymore. He now appears to be perfectly at ease in the company of these highborn individuals.

What has made him change so much?

When they are having dinner, Elizabeth wonders how she had gotten used to the loss of her two boys: They had simply vanished. But Ellie was still with her, beside her, growing. It was strange… very strange. That was how she felt. Elizabeth was also hoping that James would not sail again. He could become an advisor to the Admiralty. He could advise other men's voyages of discovery. James is offered to be a commander officer at the Royal Hospital for Seamen in Greenwich. He asks her whether they should go and live in Greenwich and she wants to shout "yes, yes" but does not say anything.

However, James is not pleased with the developments. An idle job, away from the sea is not for him. The couple plan a Christmas dinner and Elizabeth is overjoyed to have her husband beside her that Christmas. The goose was in the oven sizzling. Their son asks Elizabeth whether he would still be called a "captain" if he did not have a ship under his command? James has a serious attack of indigestion after the Christmas dinner but says that there is nothing wrong with him. However, Elizabeth reads from his notebooks that he was seriously ill several times during his voyages.

Captain Clarke is chosen as the captain of the next expedition. James and Hugh Palliser consider the conditions of a ship that would sail along with *Resolution.* Their son Jamie is doing fine in the navy, but their son Nat is not much interested. He is rather more interested in music. James had enlisted the boys in the navy from an early age because this would be an advantage for them. Meanwhile, Captain Cook starts writing a book on his travels. One day, he happily announces: "I've been nominated, I am going to be a member of The Royal Society; twenty-five members! You only need 3 nominations but I have twenty-five" ([5], p. 100). "He suddenly looked ten years younger" she thought (p. 100). James then starts planning his speech; a scientific treatise. Nat asks him whether he would also talk about the cannibals. James answers that they were in New Zealand. He did not want to punish them because he did not understand them.

Elizabeth is pregnant again. Elizabeth knows that her son Nat is not pleased about it from the way he looks at her belly; perhaps because he had only witnessed the birth and burial of babies since he was born. Besides, when there was a new baby, his mother could not spend enough time with him. Hugh Palliser observes that the king is offering a reward to whoever discovers a northern passage. Upon hearing this, the boys are excited and they ask Palliser questions. He explains that the route to China and Indonesian islands took too much time because you had to pass around Cape Horn and the Cape of Good Hope. If one could reach the Northern Pacific through the North of Scotland and voyage over Sweden for the East, that would be marvelous and bring great opportunity for trade and transport ([5], p.113).

James silently thinks about the voyage. When his sons ask him whether he will win the prize, he answers that he is not going anywhere. However, things change very rapidly. One day, while walking, Elizabeth meets Hugh Palliser who seems to have an embarrassed air. He observes that there were talks at the Admiralty about who could lead such an expedition. Many members were in favor of Clarke but there were also many others who opposed this idea. In the end, James volunteered to lead the expedition. It was his own choice. Elizabeth feels sad when she hears this. She had hoped that her lonely days were over, but it looks as if they were beginning all over again.

While alone, James shares his feelings with her: "Prestige, Respect. On board of a ship, I'm in command. Wherever we go ashore, I am treated like a prince. That pleases me. That, and that's a fact. I must go to sea because the world is there for me to pass that role to someone else" (p. 142). These words aptly convey how his persona as Captain is central to James Cook's existence. It is very clear that his adventurous and successful career gives him a powerful ego boost that seems to have precedence over his duties as a father and as a husband.

He explains further: "I want to stretch a network of waterways around the globe so that there are no more unknown regions. I must go to sea because the world is there […]. That's it, Elizabeth. I cannot explain it any better than that. It has nothing to do with you. You are wonderful, the best wife I could have chosen. It's not that I want to run away from you. I'd much rather stay with stay with you always, beside you at the table, walking side by side. But the sea is there. I must. Not because it is honorable, not because the king asked, but because it is my destiny" (p. 145). So, Cook is motivated by a sense of destiny that he believes sets him apart from ordinary men. Yet, in his astonishingly explicit selfcenteredness, he shows no concern for the feelings and needs of his wife.

Quite understandably, Elizabeth is far from feeling happy with the news of her glory-seeking husband's impending departure. She was hoping that her husband would be by her side, but once more, he was ready to go. Her mother, who works in a tavern, tries to console her saying: "You cannot stop it. They're men, aren't they? They want out. That's good. He'll come back, he always has. Just wait, one day he will have.

had enough of traveling. You cannot talk him out of it. He's stubborn as an old mule, you know that" (p. 154). In the first week of March 1776, James gives his first introductory lecture at the Royal Society. After his return, he walks in the garden with a young officer. He asks who will be joining the expedition. He suddenly gets very angry. James observes: "They can drop dead, those scholars! And a damned bunch of pretentious wretches. The rest of science along with them. They disturb the board on board that's what they do" (p. 175). The young man stares petrified at his captain. Elizabeth wonders whether James would feel shame about his tantrum. She had never seen James lose control. She wonders whether James was cruel on board. "Would he impose harsh punishments during his outbursts? She had always regarded him as a model of calm and fairness" (p. 177).

#### *Biofiction and History: A Comparative Reading of the Lives of Captain Cook, Sultan Selim III… DOI: http://dx.doi.org/10.5772/intechopen.111729*

Before going on the new expedition James tells Elizabeth that Clarke had gotten himself into trouble; his brother had gotten into debt and Clarke had agreed to guarantee his debts. Now, his brother had run off, leaving Clarke with the troubles. James tells Elizabeth of his plans: They will sail to Plymouth. Elizabeth sobs and thinks what they will say to their son Nat. James says nothing. Elizabeth thinks maybe James was suspecting Hugh Palliser, maybe he was even thinking that he could be the father of his child. He had named his child Hugh, maybe in a gesture of magnanimity. Maybe his going to sea had nothing to do with Hugh Palliser, but on the other hand, Hugh had done nothing to stop James…

In his will, James stated that his daughters would have a share of his property if they married with their mother's permission. Elizabeth feels confused; they did not have any daughters. Then, she understands. He wanted to leave her pregnant, then they would have a daughter as they had wished for a long time. The *Resolution's* departure had drawn a lot of attention. There was no mention of Clarke's release. Perhaps, Elizabeth could write to Sandwich, to ensure of his early release. She receives a letter from James, telling of his travels. He comments that the ship leaks like a sieve. The view of the Table Mountain brings tears to his eyes, it is very impressive. Then, Clarke arrives. He is ill; his eyes shine, his face is red, he has a nasty cough and fever. James says he is sorry that he cannot keep his word to Elizabeth but he cannot come home. He has to lead the expedition…

During his absence, Hugh Palliser drops by from time to time. During one of his visits, he takes Elizabeth in his arms and kisses her. They spend some time enclosed in each other's embrace. Elizabeth does not resist him. Then, one day Sandwich and Stephan arrive in formal attire. They tell Elizabeth to sit down. They relate the terrible news: James is killed in a riot that took place in Hawaii. He had died honorably. Elizabeth cannot understand the words "honorably"; what does it mean? Elizabeth only understands that he will not be home anymore…. She has to tell the boys. Jamie would understand. He was practical. How to explain it to Nat? That was the difficult task. "I am a widow; I am a widow." She repeats to herself. She is collected, cool. She orders a black dress. Everyone expects her to fall apart but she stands erect, calm. The Admiralty decides on an annual compensation for her.

Sandwich later explains what had happened to James. They had found out that the ship's launch had been stolen. James had rowed with a couple of sailors to shore. He was planning to take the chief hostage with his sons but then cries were heard from the other end of the island. One man attacked James and the others pinned him to the ground and killed him with stones and knives. James was given a sailor's burial. His "mortal remains" were thrown to the sea. Jamie still did not know about his father's death. Nat wrote that the school called the students to an assembly to announce captain Cook's death. Nat said he would not be coming home and that he planned to visit home during summer vacations.

James Cook had invaded the privacy, lifestyle, and the settled culture of the natives of Hawaii. When he had taken the chief and his sons hostage, the natives could not accept this. Captain Cook had gone too far. Their land seemed alien to them, they could not accept this. This was a traumatic event for them. This event could be compared to the lives of the U'wa people who live in the heart of the jungle in Columbia. When they heard of the international firms' plans of drilling their land for oil, the leaders of the community declared that 5000 people would willingly step off a 1400-foot cliff rather than accept such an interference in their land. Similarly, the Hawaiian natives were ready to kill Captain Cook, rather than accept the loss of their chief.

The Jungian analyst Donald Kalsched [6] uses the term "trauma" to mean any experience that causes "any unbearable pain or anxiety" (p. 1). For the Hawaiian

natives, the trauma created by the violation of their sacred land, which they considered to be their mother, was "unbearable, threatening completely to dissolve the way of life, the values, the world-view-indeed the very tribe itself" (p. 1). On the other hand, Robert Stolorow [7] believes that "trauma shatters absolutism, leading to a catastrophic loss of innocence" (p. 16), which drastically alters one's experience of being in the world.

Elizabeth asks her mother what she had done when her husband died. Her mother answers that it wasn't the same thing. Elizabeth's father was not an important person, but in the case of James, things were different. He belonged to the public. People will want to know how he looked, they would inquire about his letters, portraits, memories, his friendships, etc. So her mother advises Elizabeth not to believe the stories she will hear, otherwise she may lose contact with reality.

Hugh explains that maybe they were getting everything wrong. He observes that because the Europeans were civilized themselves, they believed that they were bringing civilization to the natives. When they crowded around the presents brought to them gleefully, like children, the English people believed that the natives were happy. But in reality, Hugh observed, the only thing that was stopping them were the bullets. In his words: "Just think of what we leave behind when we sail away. Broken marriages, depleted farmlands, dethroned rulers, mixed-race children. It never crosses our minds" ([5], p. 256).

Then a letter arrives telling of Nat's death. He was assigned to a Royal Navy station in the West Indies. There was a hurricane and 13 ships had sunk. Nat had been drowned along with the others. He was just 15. Jane, a new friend of Elizabeth's whose husband was working beside James, writes a letter to Elizabeth's friend Francis, asking her to write an uplifting letter to Elizabeth, because she wasn't eating or talking since the news of Nat's death. She also blames Hugh for not being beside her at his godson's burial.

Isaac, a relative who had been with Captain James in one of his expeditions, arrives. Isaac tries to hide away some knowledge about Captain James, Elizabeth thinks. "Was he cruel?" she asks, and Isaac bites his lips. Isaac observes that there were times when he was beside himself with rage. For example, when a native stole a goat, he ordered for the thief 's head to be shaved and his ears to be cut off. At another time, in a fit of anger, he had ordered the canoes of the natives to be destroyed. Isaac observes that it was such a pity, because the natives would spend years working on the canoes, drew splendid pictures on them. James Cook would also order the huts to be burned at times.

Elizabeth wants to know the truth about James's death. Isaac tells her that it took nearly a week to get his remains and to bury him. She muses: Why "remains" and not his body or James? Hugh Palliser arrives and takes her in his arms. He tells her that although he loved no woman as much as he loved her, they cannot build a life together because he is old and impotent due to an injury he has suffered. On an April evening, a gentleman who sells hides visits Elizabeth. He wants to give a letter to Elizabeth from Captain Clarke. Elizabeth tells him that Clarke died more than 4 years ago. His letters had all arrived. The gentleman tells her that those were the official letters. This is the final one. In the letter, Captain Clarke relates the truth about James's death. He writes that he believes Elizabeth had the right to know the truth. Then, she could do whatever she wanted with it; hide it or reveal it to the world.

Captain Clarke relates that like Isaac, he could not understand the severity of James' punishments: He would have the natives flogged as if they were soldiers who had deserted the battle. Their first stay in Hawaii was pleasant, but when they had to

#### *Biofiction and History: A Comparative Reading of the Lives of Captain Cook, Sultan Selim III… DOI: http://dx.doi.org/10.5772/intechopen.111729*

return to the island because of bad weather conditions, the natives did not give them a hearty welcome. There were a lot of bullying and thefts. When their cutter was stolen, James got very angry. He planned to take the chief hostage. Captain Clarke was watching the events through a telescope. Then, James appeared with the chief and his two sons. The natives pushed James and the marines to the shore. James gave the marines the signal to shoot and they started shooting not with empty barrels but with live ammunition. There was a terrible massacre. Then, James turns his back on the mob and someone strikes James on the back and as he falls down, five men throw themselves on him. James had given the signal to Williamson on the boat to start firing also. The entire village was engulfed in flames with a lot of deaths and decapitations. Clarke wants the bodies of the deceased. James' body was difficult to put together because the natives had cut up his body and distributed the parts among the chiefs of the territory. After some time, the natives delivered a packet that included James' hind parts.

Then, another package was delivered containing James' skull, bones from his arms and legs, and in a separate package his hands. The captain does not want to write about what he thinks happened to his flesh, eyes, and genitals. They later gave James a sea burial. Captain Clarke also relates an incident of disrespect. After James' death, the officers had drunk a lot and rolled the dice for his shoes, shirts, watch, boots, cutlery, and wig. Clarke had learned about this incident weeks later from a lieutenant who wished to hide his name.

Time passes slowly and various other people Elizabeth loves die. First Benny, who hoped to be a clergyman, dies of a severe fever. Then, Elizabeth receives news that her son Jammie, commander of the *Spitfire*, had drowned in Portsmouth. Then on March 17, 1796, Hugh Palliser passes away. He was 73 years old. Before his death, he sends Elizabeth a package containing James' last notes. It seems that he had kept his notes until the last day… The notes give Elizabeth a new understanding of her husband's death. It seems as if he knew what was going to happen, he did not want to prevent the ending. Captain James seems to have thought and realized that if he wanted to inscribe his name, it must be with the ultimate sacrifice. The ultimate sacrifice? Sacrifice of himself… So James literally plans his end. When he gives the backward lieutenant to approach the shore, he knows he will misunderstand it and row further away. The time had come….

James observes: "I almost slip on the algea-slick stones. Luckily, I am able to regain my balance. That's crucial. It is not about my falling; that's not how it has been preordained. I step into the sea, calm as can be. Just a few more seconds and the stone will hit me on the head; the knife will rip open my back just a little longer, and I will stumble, released into my future, truly to come home" ([5], p. 354). The last words indicate that this restless man, who could find peace only while at sea, could find his true homecoming in death. Elizabeth takes with her a huge pillowcase filled with memories; her strange love with Hugh Palliser, her children, James' scandal, and nothing remains except a pile of ashes… You do not have to keep anything.

#### **3. A historical perspective on sultan Selim III and Kuchuk Huseyin pasha**

A history book only deals with facts as the writer sees them. It is not supposed to reflect the writer's own vision of life. A history book describes (and explains) the history of a country, area, or subject. Historiography has changed significantly over time. History covers all aspects of human society: political, economic, scientific, cultural, intellectual, religious, and military.

It is widely, and mistakenly, assumed that biofiction is a subgenre of history. Both genres involve historical figures and both genres aim at giving an influential depiction of the characters they have chosen. However, there are some important differences between these genres and different criteria should be used while examining the two genres. As Michael Lackey [4] asserts, "Literature should not be about the way the moment (history) create the human, as we see in the historical novel, but the way the human shapes "reality" which is the central axiom on which the bio- graphical novel is premised" (p. 13). Although history books claim to give the reader only the facts, still, similar to biofiction, historians reflect their own interpretation. Carr [8] observes: "All historical facts come to us as a result of interpretive choices by historians influenced by the standards of their age."

There are several interesting parallels between the lives of Captain Cook, the Ottoman Emperor Selim III, and Kuchuk Huseyin Pasha. Selim III had the desire to conquer strange lands and discover foreign places. He tried to realize these plans with the help of his naval captain Kuchuk Huseyin Pasha. Selim III was the Ottoman Sultan between 1789 and 1807. His father Mustafa III was an educated man who believed that reform was necessary in the army. He believed that his son Selim would become a world conqueror. Selim's birth was celebrated throughout the vast Empire with cannon fire. Both his father and mother gave great care to his education. At the age of 5, he was considered mature enough to learn the Koran. Mustafa III had named his son as his successor, but his brother Abdulhamid ascended to the throne.

When Abdulhamid became the ruler, Selim was forced to live the life of a bird in a cage. But he did not spend his days in an idle manner. He continued his studies in arts and music, he was also aware of what was going on in the world. During Abdulhamid's reign, Selim's main contact with the outside world was through French ambassadors. He would meet the ambassadors in disguise and learn about foreign affairs. After Abdulhamid's death, Selim succeeded to throne at the age of 27. He was a well-educated young man fully interested in the arts similar to Captain James's son Nathaniel. He was also very fond of calligraphy and literature. He had formed good relations with foreigners and was convinced of the necessity of reform in the Empire.

Selim III admired the French and disliked Russians. He wrote several letters to Louis XVI, and in fact, he took the king to be a role model for himself. He believed that the king could help him in a future war with Russia. The letters are of great importance since they reflect the relations between the two empires. In these letters, Selim had reverted to the historical close friendship between the two countries and wanted the King's help in his proposed plans for the war with Russia. But the French King had answered this letter mentioning that he had in the past sent representatives to Ottoman lands to help with the reforms in the land. But he says that war is a difficult event and cannot be entered without long preparations beforehand. He further adds that they can address this subject again in the future when Selim ascends to the throne. The advisory tone of the French King angered Selim and he answered the King in a harsher tone, reminding him that he was not a young man caged in Istanbul but a Prince consort. He also reminded the king that traditionally Ottomans had extensive knowledge and experience of wars and warfare.

Before Selim III ascended to the throne, he had a talk with Sultan Mustafa. The Sultan was worrying about state affairs. He told Selim that things could not be better, enemies could not be vanquished before a new army was established. Yet, how was a new army to be created? Selim had suggested that the guild of Janissaries should

#### *Biofiction and History: A Comparative Reading of the Lives of Captain Cook, Sultan Selim III… DOI: http://dx.doi.org/10.5772/intechopen.111729*

be reformed. But Sultan Mustafa replied that the guild of Janissaries could not be reformed. Years later, Selim would acknowledge the truth of his father's words ([9], p. 316). Although Selim had 13 consorts, he never had children due to an infection in his urinary system. It is known that one of his "favorites" threw herself in front of Selim to prevent his assassination but was not successful.

It was believed that one of the chief reasons for the failure of the Ottoman army, especially during the wars with Russia and Austria, was the administration of fiefs. The soldiers, who were responsible for the collection of fiefs, would go to their homes during winter months. Due to this system, much of the territory gained from the enemy during summer months would be lost without a fight. Selim changed this system whereby the soldiers could not leave their posts during the winter season without a special permit. Efforts were made to choose especially honest and dependable men as feudal officers.

Sultan Selim also tried to solve the problems of the Janissary corps. He ordered new European-type rifles for the soldiers and planned them to be equipped with the new war ammunition and rifles by the end of 1794. "He also wanted to reduce the number of janissaries from 50,000 to half that number by individually inspecting the members" ([9], p. 4). The Sultan believed that the Sipahis (soldiers on horses) would mix well with the Janissaries so that a whole, well-formed, and harmonious army could be formed. With the order of the Sultan, the Janissary barracks in Istanbul were enlarged and rebuilt. However, all the efforts were futile and the Janissaries continued to be a problem.

The French Revolution (1789) had a major impact on the Ottoman state. The whole ideal and intent of the revolution was not in line with the Ottoman system but there were still reasons why the revolution was to a degree supported by the Ottoman Empire. Although Selim was deeply touched by the execution of Louis XVI, whom he considered his friend, there were still contradictory feelings. In the past, many sultans had been executed in Ottoman lands.

Sultan Selim III formed a new group of soldiers called "Nizam-I Cedit" in 1797, with the hope that they could be used to stop the rebellions of Janissaries. He hoped to blend this new army with the Janissaries but was not successful. After ascending to the throne, Selim III realized the importance of foreign relations and established embassies in France, England, Prussia, and Austria. However, when the French forces entered Egypt, Selim declared war on France together with Russia and Britain. After peace with the French, trouble in the Balkans started. Selim had the desire to conquer faraway lands, but he did this through his captain Kuchuk Huseyin Pasha.

Kuchuk Huseyin Pasha was born in Georgia, probably in 1757. He became the naval captain in 1792 and retained this position until his death. His career as a naval captain can be examined under four headings: his fight with the pirates, the Vidin project, the successful renovations he accomplished in the naval army, and finally the expedition to Egypt… In the Aegean Sea, pirates were plundering Ottoman ships. Kuchuk Huseyin Pasha went to sea and he deactivated the two famous pirates of the age: Lambro and Karakaçan.

He was not very successful in his Vidin expedition, mainly due to the coldness of the region. But he successfully pacified one of the main revolvers and so camouflaged his deception in this area. He was more successful in his Egypt expedition but he could not prevent Napoleon's flight to France. He ordered his general Husrev Agha to enter the land with 6000 soldiers and capture the cities of Reşid and Rahmaniye. In fact, in 1801, the religious leaders got together and sent the fortress' keys to Selim. These conquests pleased Selim a lot.

Kuchuk Huseyin Pasha's most valuable contribution is probably the reforms he introduced in the naval force. He initiated the education of carpenters, especially for the building and repairing of ships. In 1793, he invited Jacques Balthasard Le Brun who was a world-renowned architect of ships, with his two assistants—Jean Baptiste Benoit and Toussaint Petit—to give the workers training in mathematics, geometry, and ship design in addition to geography and mapping. He abolished the practice of sending the naval officers to their homes in winter and instead established the continuation of their naval education during winter months. The development of the transformation from galley to gallion was also established during his time. The very close relationship of Kuchuk Huseyin Pasha with Sultan Selim attracted the jealousy of other members of the court. Many would do everything in their power to damage this relationship.

Selim and Kuchuk Huseyin Pasha had a very close friendship, in fact there were even rumors that they were blood brothers. Kuchuk Huseyin Pasha had come to the palace at a very early age, drawing the attention of the palace court with his intelligence and hardworking nature. The close friendship between Selim III and Kuchuk Huseyin Pasha can be compared to the one between Captain Cook and Palliser.

Kuchuk Huseyin Pasha's character has some similarities also with Captain Cook; they were both quick tempered. This characteristic caused both of them to be estranged from some of their friends. They both deeply loved the sea. Kuchuk Huseyin Pasha suffered a major difficulty in his life because of his and his wife Esma Sultan's extravagance. His anxiety about his debts is evident even in the letters he wrote to Sultan Selim on his death bed, when he was dying from tuberculosis.

There was research done to find out the reasons behind the close friendship between Selim III and Kuchuk Huseyin Pasha. There were rumors that Selim III had initiated a revolt against his uncle Sultan Abdulhamid and was forced to pass several years in forced confinement. During those years, he formed a close friendship with Kuchuk Huseyin Pasha which strengthened with the passage of years.

Selim's death resembles Captain Cook's death because he was assassinated during a revolt. Captain Cook appears to have planned his own death but Selim did not. Selim had always greatly admired the Western way of life, culture, and technology. However, the reforms he initiated in the army, and his establishment of a new army, Nizam-ı Cedit, caused unrest among the Janissaries. The Janissaries eventually revolted against Selim and hoped to put Mustafa IV on the throne. Selim was later strangled with the order of Mustafa IV who had promised the Janissaries that he would not interfere or disrupt their order. In *Homecoming,* Captain Cook's death involves a lot of interpretation by the author, a characteristic of biofiction, whereas the depiction of Selim's death is just a straightforward record of facts. In the narration of this event, not much interpretation is used by the author since he is a historian. In *The Homecoming,* Enquist's choice of events in the narration of Captain Cook's death, her voicing of different characters' interpretation of his death, demonstrates that the writer aimed to give her own interpretation of this event in her book.

It was the custom in Ottoman times for the husbands of the daughters of the Sultan to be chosen by the Sultan. Sultan Selim ordered lavish wedding preparations for his uncle's daughter Esma Sultan's wedding. Esma Sultan was only 14 when she married Kuchuk Huseyin Pasha who was 35 at the time. However, despite the age gap, the marriage proved to be a very happy one. They were married for only 12 years when Kuchuk Huseyin Pasha died from tuberculosis. Esma Sultan never remarried as was the custom during that period.

#### *Biofiction and History: A Comparative Reading of the Lives of Captain Cook, Sultan Selim III… DOI: http://dx.doi.org/10.5772/intechopen.111729*

In contrast to Mrs. Cook, Esma Sultan was deeply involved with politics, in fact it is believed that together with her mother Sineperver Kadınefendi, she played a leading role in the Kabakçı rebellion and the deposing of Selim III. On the 17th of May 1807, her brother Mustafa IV became the Sultan as Esma Sultan had wished. But his reign lasted a short while. In 1808, Alemdar Mustafa Pasha—who was in Rusçuk at the time—came to the capital to depose Mustafa and put Selim III to the throne. However, because Selim had been assassinated, he helped Mahmut ascend to the throne. He further advised the Sultan to take some precautions involving Esma Sultan and her mother. When Selim was assassinated, the janissaries had considered putting Esma Sultan to the throne. This would have been an unprecedented act because up to that time, no woman had been considered as a candidate for the throne in the Ottoman Empire. This is an indication of Esma Sultan's power as a leading figure in political life.

Esma Sultan was a very extravagant woman, spending lavishly on jewelry, the decoration of her various palaces, and her clothes. In fact, due to her extravagance, his family's debts were one of Kuchuk Huseyin Pasha's main concerns on his death bed. Sultan Selim, being a close friend, assured him that his debts would be paid and he should get well soon.

The deaths of both Captain Cook and Selim III are similar, in that they were killed during a riot. In fact, up until that time all Ottoman Sultans had died natural deaths. It was only Sultan Selim who was assassinated. There are various other similarities in the lives of Selim III and Captain Cook: Both are hardworking, ambitious men who worked in favor of reform. Both believed in discipline and order. Captain Cook wanted discipline on his ship and to establish this, he sometimes acted cruelly toward the sailors. Selim III was not pleased with the unruly behavior of the Janissaries and his real intent was to abolish the system altogether. However, he decided to go slowly about it. He established the new army of Nizam-ı Cedit, hoping that some of the Janissaries would later become members of the new army. However, the janissaries did not want the Sultan to interfere with their established system and hence were angry with Selim. The reactionary group, with the revolt of Kabakçı Mustafa, and the order of Selim's cousin Mustafa IV, assassinated Selim and helped Mustafa IV ascend to the throne.

Likewise, the strict measures Captain Cook took to establish order on his ship won him the animosity of many members of his crew. Even his close friends and relatives criticized his attitude. Captain Cook was at home at sea and on his ship. He did not want to return home. Even when he realized the dangers of sailing in a ship that was not in a very good condition, he still wanted to go. When Elizabeth Cook blamed Hugh Palliser for letting his friend go on a leaky ship, Hugh Palliser sent Elizabeth a letter explaining the facts: "When a person says to a friend, "I'll see you later" or a parent says to a child at bedtime, "I'll see you in the morning" these are statements, like delusions, whose validity is not open for discussion. Such absolutisms are the basis for a kind of naïve realism and optimism that allow one to function in the world, experienced s stable and predictable. It is in the essence of emotional trauma that it shatters these absolutisms, a catastrophic loss of innocence that permanently alters one's sense of being in the world" ([5], p. 16).

It seems that both Captain Cook and Kuchuk Huseyin Pasha felt more at home while voyaging in the sea. Captain Cook's life depended more on the success he achieved while discovering new ports. Since he did not consider the Hawaiian expedition a success, he seems to have orchestrated his death so that his name would be remembered. Faraway, Kuchuk Huseyin Pasha was not very happy to be on land

either. His illness was advancing and home reminded him of his increasing debts because of his wife's extravagance, death would be a deliverance for both of them for different reasons. Both did not want to taint their revered, well-known names. With death, all would be erased, forgotten… After Kuchuk Huseyin Pasha's death, his wife's extravagance and his debts would be obliterated and likewise Captain Cook's new failed expedition would not matter anymore. They would have truly come home…

#### **4. Conclusion**

As Michel de Certeau [10] maintains: "First of all, historiography separates its present time from a past. But everywhere it repeats the initial act of division. Its chronology is composed of periods (for example, the Middle Ages, modern history, contemporary history) between which, in every instance, is traced the *decision* to become different or no longer to be to be such as one that had been up to that time (the Renaissance, the French revolution). In their respective turns, each new time provides the *place* for a discourse, considering whatever preceded to be "dead" but welcoming a "past" that had already been specified by ruptures" (p. 3). Thus, a historian is inevitably affected by his own situatedness, his *place* so to speak, as he narrates past events. The historical discourse about the past is therefore implicated by the sociohistorical and subjective dynamics of the present in which that discourse is created.

Another important factor that significantly influences the construction of historical discourse is power. "The making of history is buttressed by a political power which creates a space proper (a walled city, a nation, etc) where a will can and must write (construct) a system (a reason articulating practice) ([10], p. 6)." So, common with biofiction, fiction also goes into the writing of history. Certeau observes: "In the case of historiography, fiction can be found at the end of the process, in the product of manipulation and the analysis" [9]. All in all, "The situation of the historiographer makes study of the real appear in two quite different positions within the scientific process: the real so far as it is *known* (what the historian studies, understands. or "brings to life from past history"), and the insofar as it is entangled within the scientific operations (the present society, to which the historians' problematics, their procedures, modes of comprehension, and finally a practice of meaning are referable)" (p. 35).

As I have shown in this chapter, there are very interesting similarities between the lives of Captain James Cook (as depicted in a biofiction), and Sultan Selim III and Kuchuk Huseyin Pasha (as depicted in a history book). The source I have used for James Cook's life was the biofiction *The Homecoming* which does not claim to offer a factual representation of Captain Cook's life as a history book would aim to do. Still, the novel presents an intriguing fictional rendering of his life through the reconstructed voices of people in Cook's close circle from the perspective of his wife Elizabeth. Stanford Shaw's famous *Between Old and New* [11], on the other hand, is a book of history that is grounded in historical fact and seeks to offer an objective representation of events. Be that as it may, this work of non-fiction offers a historical record that is filtered through the subjectivity of the historian. In brief, the ultimate reality of these historical figures can never be fully grasped; however, it is through biofiction and history that we are offered glimpses into their world.

*Biofiction and History: A Comparative Reading of the Lives of Captain Cook, Sultan Selim III… DOI: http://dx.doi.org/10.5772/intechopen.111729*

### **Author details**

Gönül Bakay Bahçeşehir University, Istanbul, Turkey

\*Address all correspondence to: gonulbakay@gmail.com

© 2023 The Author(s). Licensee IntechOpen. This chapter is distributed under the terms of the Creative Commons Attribution License (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0), which permits unrestricted use, distribution, and reproduction in any medium, provided the original work is properly cited.

### **References**

[1] Middeke M, Huber W. Biofictions: The Reviewing of Romantic Lives in Contemporary Fiction and Drama. New York: Camden House; 1999

[2] Nadel IB. Narrative and the popularity of biography. Mosaic. 1987;**20**:4

[3] Hutcheon L. A Poetics of Postmodernism. London: Routledge; 1988

[4] Lackey M. Biofiction: An Introduction. London: Taylor and Francis; 2022

[5] Anna E. The Homecoming. Seattle: Amazon Crossing; 2022

[6] Kalsched D. The Inner World of Trauma. New York: Routledge; 1976

[7] Stolorow R. Trauma and human existence. Politics of Postmodernism. 2010

[8] Carr EH. What Is History? U.K: Penguin; 1991

[9] Eren AC. Selim III ün Biyografisi. London: Nurgök; 1964

[10] Certau M. The Writing of History. New York: Colombia University Press; 1992

[11] Shaw SJ. Between Old and New: The Ottoman Empire under Sultan Selim III, 1789-1807. Boston: Harvard University Press; 1971

#### **Chapter 3**

## 'The Writing of the Empire': Economies of Writing and 'Otherness' in Henri Fauconnier's *Malaisie*

*Kenneth Surin*

#### **Abstract**

The development of colonial and postcolonial literatures usually follows a tripartite periodization: (1) a phase during which works are produced by 'representatives' of the colonial order, those able to represent this order by virtue of being white and European; (2) a succeeding phase in which texts are produced under the auspices of the colonial order by culturally incorporated natives who are bound by the hegemonies of this order as a condition of undertaking literary production; (3) this phase is then overtaken by one existing after the Second World War—here independent postcolonial literatures arise in which the cosmography of Western superiority is supplanted. However, there are texts produced in phase (1) that do not possess the allegedly typical features of the works belong to it. My claim resides in the possibility that such periodizations do account for a kind of 'Western' text in which the author risks being changed, as he/she submits her/himself to worlds of possibility displacing authorized notions of 'being Western', etc. Using de Certeau and Edward Said, I provide a reading of Henri Fauconnier's Prix Goncourt-winning 1930 francophone novel *Malaisie* that develops the concept of a 'paracoloniality', where I show what tends to be overlooked in most discussions of colonial and postcolonial literatures.

**Keywords:** Henri Fauconnier, Michel de Certeau, Edward Said, postcolonial literatures and theory, paracoloniality

#### **1. Introduction**

It is something of a commonplace among those who write on colonial and postcolonial literatures to periodize the development of these literatures in terms of something like the following tripartite schema:

There is an emergent or initial phase during which works are produced by 'representatives' of the colonial/imperial order, that is, those who can represent this order by virtue of being white, Western, and European;

This phase is then succeeded by one in which literature is produced under the auspices of the colonial order by culturally incorporated natives who are bound, whether overtly or tacitly, by the hegemonies of that white, western, and European order as a condition of being able to engage in literary production;

The second phase in turn is overtaken by one which came to exist after the Second World War, and in it there develop independent literatures produced in a postcolonial (i.e. putatively 'nonwhite', 'nonwestern', 'non-European') context in which the cosmography of Western superiority and dominance is supplanted or displaced. A periodization of this kind is found in the excellent *The Empire Writes Back: Theory and Practice in Post-Colonial Literatures.* Its authors—Bill Ashcroft, Gareth Griffiths, and Helen Tiffin—say of the first phase:

*its representative texts can never form the basis for an indigenous culture nor can they be integrated in any way with the culture which already exists in the countries invaded. Despite their detailed reportage of landscape, custom, and language, they inevitably privilege the centre, emphasizing the 'home' over the 'native', the 'metropolitan' over the 'provincial' or 'colonial', and so forth. At a deeper level their claim to objectivity simply serves to hide the imperial discourse within which they are created. That this is true of even the consciously literary works which emerge from this moment can be illustrated by the poems and stories of Rudyard Kipling. For example, in the well-known poem 'Christmas in India' the evocative description of a Christmas day in the heat of India is contextualized by invoking its absent English counterpart. Apparently it is only through this absent and enabling signifier that the Indian daily reality can acquire legitimacy as a subject of literary discourse [1].*

*Kipling is certainly not alone in being an exemplary instance of what transpires, 'structurally' as it were, in this first phase of historical development—to his name one can add those of Conrad, Forster, Melville, Flaubert, and numerous others. Since I believe the claims which lie at the heart of this periodization to be largely probative, I will not here dispute their gist or substance. At any rate, this historical schema seems to account for the broad outlines of what has taken place in the mainstreams of colonial and postcolonial literary production.*

It is my contention, however, that there are texts produced in the first phase of this periodization which do not possess the allegedly typical or constitutive features of the works, 'literary' or otherwise, which are characteristically held to belong to it.1 The basis of my claim resides in the possibility, to be canvassed here, that such periodizations do not consider a certain kind of 'Western' or 'European' text, one in which the author risks being changed, in which the writer submits her/himself to worlds of possibility which displace received or authorized notions of 'being white', 'being Western', 'being European'.

In this connection, therefore, I am mindful of Michel de Certeau's essay on Jean de Léry's *Histoire d'un voyage faict en la terre du Bresil*, a work published in 1578, which

<sup>1</sup> It is also very likely that there will be literary works produced in the other stages identified by this periodization which do not possess the defining features of the stage in question. Regarding the second stage of this periodization, for instance, I am mindful of Homi Bhabha's theory of hybridization, according to which the dominant Western/European language is always used by the colonial subject in a way that undermines it: the subject, by virtue of never being entirely like the colonizer, 'English' (say) but somehow never quite English, subverts the dominant language in using it, 'problematizes' its capacity to be authoritative and representative, because (s)he is perforce different from the colonizer, is never quite (in this case) 'English' enough. See [2]; and [3].

#### *'The Writing of the Empire': Economies of Writing and 'Otherness' in Henri Fauconnier's… DOI: http://dx.doi.org/10.5772/intechopen.111680*

recounts its author's voyage to the Bay of Rio in the years 1556–1558.2 In his discussion of this work—a work described by Levi-Strauss as 'that masterpiece of anthropological literature'3 de Certeau shows how de Lery constructs a literary object, the 'Brazilian savage', that enables him to engage in a 'return' to Europe (and thus himself) through the mediation of this 'exotic' other. And yet, as de Certeau compellingly indicates, this exercise in mastery is ultimately a failure: the de Lery who returns to Europe is unavoidably 'decentred' by his attempt to signify ethnographically the 'being' of this 'savage'. This 'savage' remains, irremovably, an exteriority which calls de Lery's discourse into question, or, as de Certeau puts it, '[the] savage becomes a senseless speech ravishing Western discourse' [p. 236]. The 'savage', or rather the speech of the 'savage', becomes a condition of possibility of the ethnographer's writing—but it is, precisely, a condition that the ethnographer cannot 'write' or institute, and this because speech is perforce irreducible to writing (even though it is 'translatable' into writing; ethnography being the scriptive translation or rendition of this speech; ethnography (for de Certeau) being speech (that would otherwise be senseless) rendered into writing/meaning). A 'metaphorical disruption', a passage across genres which maintains their separateness even as it necessitates a movement between them, enables the ethnographer's *hearing* of the 'savage's' speech to become his, the ethnographer's, *writing*, his discourse.

The ethnographer substitutes one word for another, and by virtue of this is fated to subvert the word: the pivot for this substitution lies in a surplus, an exteriority, extraterritorial to the scriptuary space of the ethnographer's writing. The ethnographer invokes and constructs the other, he produces a knowledge of the other in his capacity as the *sujet suppose savoir*, but this knowledge is, inescapably, a knowledge founded on what the speech of the other makes believed (for the ethnographer). The 'savage' other gives to the ethnographer the latter's belief, but it is the condition of having this belief/knowledge that the ethnographer consent' to being diverted, displaced, by this inaccessible other. The recognition framed in the avowal 'I am not that (other)', which is the basis of the ethnographer's belief, interrupts or disrupts the ethnographer's self-recognizing enunciation 'I am this'.4

I make this excursus into de Certeau's 'hermeneutics of the other', not so much because I find it to be entirely persuasive (I do not<sup>5</sup> ), but because, the difficulties which beset such Lacanian 'theorizations' of otherness notwithstanding, it still adds a necessary and salutary complication to the account of the other provided by the authors of The Empire Writes Back. If, in Kipling's poem, the absent signifier of the English Christmas is used precisely to enable its Indian counterpart to become a subject of discourse, then, as de Certeau shows, the signifiers situated in the dominant discursive space (e.g. those of the 'white', 'European', 'Western' and their cognates) are themselves destabilized by their counterparts in the subaltern discursive space. The absence or the marginalization of this or that space of signification is certainly an important consideration that cannot be overlooked; but what is just as significant, if

<sup>2</sup> See [4]. See also [5].

<sup>3</sup> See [6]. Quoted in de Certeau: p. 212.

<sup>4</sup> Here I employ formulations to be found in in Edward Said's Orientalism [7].

<sup>5</sup> For a critique of the discourse of 'otherness' which has come to permeate significant areas of presentday anthropology, see [8]. See also [9]; and [10]. While I accept de Certeau's contention that it is the 'savage' who gives the ethnographer 'his' belief, I hope to show that this bestowal, in at least one significant instance, is not one that takes place according to the logic delineated by de Certeau. My invocation of de Certeau is therefore confined to its critical implications for the kind of periodization to be found in The Empire Writes Back. I shall not use de Certeau for my reading of Henri Fauconnier's Malaisie.

not more central, is not so much the recognition per se of the discursive displacement in question as the matter of the (always irreducible) politics which subtends the particular relationships that obtain between dominant and subaltern discursive spaces.

#### **2. Why** *Malaisie?*

As I have indicated, I want to make try and make this point via a discussion of Henri Fauconnier's now little-known novel Malaisie, a francophone work that is perhaps unusual in that it has as its theme the British, and not the French, colonial experience.6 A consideration of Malaisie will also enable me to query, as part of a more general treatment of some issues usually posed under the rubric of 'the hermeneutics of the other', Edward Said's contention, made in his deservedly influential Orientalism, that there is a fundamental distinction to be observed between British and French orientalisms, inasmuch as the Orient was for the British traveller/writer a place of sovereign territorial possession (India being paradigmatic in this regard for British orientalism), while for his/her French counterpart it was a place that 'echoed with the sounds of French defeats, from the Crusades to Napoleon'.7

My reading of Fauconnier's Malaisie will necesssitate the production of the concept of a 'paracoloniality', and it is through the elaboration of this concept that I hope to show precisely what tends to be overlooked or underemphasized in most discussions of colonial and postcolonial literatures.

Malaisie is a barely disguised autobiographical novel, set in British Malaya just after the First World War. Its main protagonists are the narrator Lescale and his friend Rolain, both Frenchmen, rubber planters like the book's author, and survivors of that War. The plot is disarmingly, if not distressingly, conventional, and evokes strongly the potboiler storyline that made Conrad's Victory a bestseller in its day. Lescale had a brief but for him unforgettable encounter with the older Rolain in the war trenches, and resolved afterwards to follow him to Malaya. The narrative begins when he has arrived in Malaya and meets up with his friend on Armistice Day in 1921. Lescale becomes the manager of the plantation owned by Rolain, who introduces him to the essentially British mores of the colonial rubber planter and to the cultures of the Indians who work on the plantation and the Malays 'boys' who are their house-servants. During a trip to the East Coast of Malaya, Rolain's sensitive and emotionally-frail servant Smail falls in love with the daughter of the local Rajah, an experience in the end so disconcerting for him that he runs 'amok'. He kills the Rajah with a kris and becomes a fugitive, though, being 'amok', he is now fated to kill again as soon as an opportunity presents itself. Rolain and Lescale make a vain attempt to rescue Snail when the latter runs into the local police, and when they fail, Rolain, to spare Snail the certain and ignominious death that awaited him at the hands of his pursuers, affords his servant a death 'with honour' by stabbing him with the offending kris. It is now Rolain's turn to become a fugitive in the jungle, and the book concludes with a farewell scene between Lescale and Rolain.

<sup>6</sup> Fauconnier's novel was published in Paris in 1930 and translated into English by Sutton E. as The Soul of Malaya. London: Elkin, Mathews and Marrot; 1931. I have consulted Sutton's version while making my own translations.

<sup>7</sup> See [11]. Though to be fair Said is talking about the Mediterranean region and not the Far East, which is where Malaisie is set.

#### *'The Writing of the Empire': Economies of Writing and 'Otherness' in Henri Fauconnier's… DOI: http://dx.doi.org/10.5772/intechopen.111680*

Malaisie, not unexpectedly, is replete with the stereotyping orientalisms that Edward Said and others have so productively identified and analyzed. It contains characterizations of the colonized as 'lazy', as 'children' who respond 'well' to physical chastisement, and so forth; it presents, 'unproblematically', dialogues between European characters which refer to 'half-caste swine', to Chinese being 'indistinguishable' from each other, to 'the secrets of Orientals', etc.; it depicts Malaya as an exotic, Dionysiac space in which the hyper-civilized European, weary of a routinized existence, can encounter the 'nameless' and 'timeless' springs of a vitality now irretrievably lost to 'his' culture8 ; it views Malayan cultures as zones of possibility in which the desires of the colonizer can be sated by all manner of unfettered plenitudes (supplied, in this case, by a stream of eroticized, mysterious, and largely docile 'natives' who inhabit a land that knows no 'limits').9 But while Fauconnier's novel deserves to be indicted for being what it is—that is, the instantiation of an orientalist fantasy—it nonetheless displays an unusual capacity to undermine again and again its own and other such orientalisms, and this is something that must be

I recalled my first night on board the


Or again: 'Then, I recall, Rolain spoke of distant lands he had known, of a life abundant and free in the great equatorial forests' (p. 12).

<sup>8</sup> The narrator in Malaisie describes his first night in the jungle thus:

Smail had extinguished the lamps. The night

was black. Reclining near a window to get

the cooler air, I could not distinguish its

square contours. The silence around the house had become a calm murmur, like the

sound of a gliding river with distant noises

on its banks. I felt lost and enchanted.

steamer that brought me East. But the

impression of embarking into the unknown was

now more profound. Then I passed gradually

into a vague dream, in which I seemed to

crouched in some hidden shelter (p. 29).

This passage clearly depicts the Orient as a dark, silent, unknown, dreamy, pleasurable, eternal (i.e., timeless and unchanging) space. Another passage provides an explicit repudiation of Europe: 'For the skin needs to breathe, drink, see, hear. In Europe clothes are a substitute for skin, and sensations reach us through layers of wool, we have the sensibility of sheep' (p. 178).

<sup>9</sup> During a river journey the narrator in Malaisie tellingly declares in a torpid reverie:

<sup>[</sup>that] dream of all childhood, the impossible

dream that a child tries to realize even if

only in his games, here it is in my life.

We are in a boat, on a river at the foot of

the mountains. I don't want to know its

name. As a child I used to say: 'Orinoco',

<sup>&#</sup>x27;Irrawaddy'. But now the marvellous resonances of these names seem artificial,

I want a river without a name, and a land without limits. We shall head for the sea along a tortuous course—shall we reach it?

I never tire of gazing, in a blissful stupor, at the surging currents, the ripples of the surface, the incredible little whirlpools (p. 158).

acknowledged and probed. Malaisie possesses this capacity in large part because, unlike Conrad or Flaubert (for example), Fauconnier lived, and not just sojourned, among the people he wrote about. Malaisie shows its author to have had, among other things, a colloquial familiarity with the Malay language, a deep knowledge of the orally-transmitted folklore of its speakers, something attested to by his detailed accounts in this novel of one of Malay culture's very distinctive and specialized practices, viz. the public, and often competitive, recitation of a verse form known as the pantun.10 One could go on in this vein about Fauconnier (the author of an identifiably gay prize-winning novel prior to World War 2. Nevertheless, the possession of virtues such as those I have attributed to Fauconnier, if indeed they can properly be said to be virtues, does not unmake or mitigate his troubling vision of the Orient.

For orientalism, as they say these days, is a discursive formation or imaginary, and its distinctive properties, whatever they are, have therefore to be specified through something like an analytics of this particular discursive formation or imaginary. Orientalism, and here I state what has become a commonplace in recent decades, is a system of knowledge, a practico-theoretical assemblage for the generation and dissemination of affects, forces and intensities, for the production of 'knowledges' of identities (or identifications) and subjects (or perhaps more appropriately 'subjectifications'). Fauconnier's vision of Malaya has therefore to be studied as precisely such an assemblage, even if it happens at the same time to be one that does manage at various stages to subvert what it produces.

#### **3. Theoretical explorations**

'*In this country I was an infant of three years old*', Malaisie, p. 103

At least three related but different considerations, all pertinent to the discussion thus far engaged in, emerge from my reading of Malaisie.

Firstly, the judgment, made by Edward Said and others, that orientalism is inextricably bound up with a propensity to exoticize the subjects of its discourse(s), however sound and salutary it may happen to be, is perhaps not sufficient if allowed to stand on its own. Exoticism, in orientalism, as Said, et al., remind us, is part of an amalgam of perspectives and constructions which create the oriental 'other' as a spectacle to be enjoyed and consumed by the Westerner/European. But, in the process of constituting and confronting the spectacle, the Westerner/European does not merely employ the Manichean binary divisions identified by Franz Fanon (black-white, good-evil,

Watching that beautiful creature asleep (she snored, her head against my arm: I had slipped my forefinger under her necklace), my night was one long, infinitely intense reverie—that was why I stayed, I thought of my nights in Paris brothels—a whole series of old memories came back—and I thought of her, of her dance, of her voice as she sang songs that for me were without meaning and even without distinguishable words. Quoted from Said, Orientalism: 187. Originally in Flaubert, G., Egypt: A Sensibility on Tour. Stegmuller, F. ed. and trans. Harmondsworth: Penguin Classics; 1996: pp. 220, 130. This episode recalls Lescale's account of the nights he spent with Palaniai, the Tamil rubber tapper, but with one evident difference: Lescale speaks Palaniai's language, for him Tamil is not, as Hanem's language was for Flaubert, something 'without meaning and even without distinguishable words'.

<sup>10</sup> Here Fauconnier is very different from Flaubert. Flaubert, after his visit to Egypt, wrote thus of the night he spent with Kuchuk Hanem, the renowned Egyptian dancer and courtesan:

#### *'The Writing of the Empire': Economies of Writing and 'Otherness' in Henri Fauconnier's… DOI: http://dx.doi.org/10.5772/intechopen.111680*

self-other, etc.11)—the Westerner/European also engages, concomitantly, in 'his' own 'becoming-other'. The 'othering' of the native and the 'becoming-other' of the Westerner/European are processes which mediate and complement each other in complex and possibly unexpected ways, ways that (as I hope to show in the case of Malaisie) cannot in principle be regsitered entirely by the Manichean binary logic and aesthetic delineated by Fanon and his successors.

Secondly, the related disposition on the part of the literary orientalist (understood here of course as a type) to constitute the native 'other' as an object of erotic interest must likewise be seen in the context of an accompanying 'becoming-other' on the part of the Westerner/European. The eroticizing of the native 'other' in Malaisie is a function of the operation of several intersecting erotic economies, and in a central instance in the novel the typical structure of many literary depictions of this eroticizing logic is breached: that is, instead of the standard instance whereby the native 'other' is the putative object of an erotic investment on the part of the white man (one just has to think here of the Jim-Jewel relationship in Conrad's Lord Jim), Fauconnier's narrative positions the body of the native 'other' in a complex homoerotic economy whose 'final' object is not a native 'other' but precisely another white man (i.e., 'the Same' or 'nonDifferent' in Lacanian parlance), albeit in this case a white man who as it happens is also at the same time homoerotically invested in the native 'other'. That is, there is in Malaisie a proliferation of the trajectories of desire which subverts or complicates the standard erotic dialectic between white man and native 'other' (be it an 'other' who is female or male). But more about this later.

Thirdly, there is in Malaisie an economy of national identity and identification, of national difference and differentiation, which repositions, in the mode of yet another 'becoming-other', *this* white man in relation to *that* white man, and thus in relation to the native 'other' in ways that escape the typically dialectical movement of a Saussurean-Lacanian diacritical logic. The specific configurations of this economy in Malaisie have, among other things, interesting implications for a 'theorization' of the phenomenon of 'going native'.

It is possible, therefore, in several different ways, to read Malaisie as a text which 'undoes', constitutively, the binary logic and aesthetic taken by many students of the colonial and postcolonial imaginary to be the distinctive and characteristic feature of its discursive formations.12 This is not to imply in any way that the subjects of colonial and postcolonial regimes are somehow not really constrained or subjugated by the economic, political, and cultural orders which ensure their subordination. But what a reading of the kind I propose calls for is an attempt to retheorize the nature of this subjugation or subalternization. I shall conclude this paper by making some suggestions in this direction, especially in connection with the question of the hermeneutics of the 'other'.

#### **4. The 'writing' of the empire**

The 'writing' of the Empire or of the Orient is precisely that—a mode of textuality, a discourse, a notation. But also affiliated with these discursive items in this case are technologies of imaging (to use a notion of Teresa de Lauretis's), particular kinds

<sup>11</sup> See [12]. See also [13].

<sup>12</sup> See note 11 above for some representative writers.

of scopic regime.13 The 'writing' of the Orient can and does take the form of a script for the orchestration of images, and Malaisie functions in precisely this way: one of its distinctive features is the narrative it provides of the operation of a technology of imaging in which the native 'other' becomes an object to be beheld and visually ravished by the onlooking white man. The narrator in Malaisie exclaims: 'In this country I was an infant of three-years old', and this is because he *sees* like a 3-year old. He sees like an infant because he has not yet acquired the optic, appropriate to Malaya, that would enable him, Lescale, to look at himself and the world 'upside down' (p. 180), to see that the Malays have the sun *under* their skin, unlike the white man (178), and so forth. But to acquire this distinctive, nonEuropean, mode of visualization, and the special, stereoscopic logic of reversal—characterized, *e.g.,* by the trope of an 'upsidedown' perspective, of 'the sun under one's skin' (the Malay) versus 'the sun shining on one's skin' (the European)—which subtends it, the narrator has to submit himself to a pedagogy of visualization, with his friend Rolain, and their Malay servants.

Ngah and Smail, as his instructors. Together they enable Lescale to discern and embody those configurations of forces and intensities, those ways of organizing the power of life (Malaisie is a profoundly Nietzschean text) that for Fauconnier is 'Malaya'. European that he is, Lescale always wants to 'understand' (p. 238), so he has first to be submitted to a pedagogy which will enable him to undergo a kind of derealization, to experience a series of 'estrangement-effects', and in so doing to be placed in a position that will enable him to 'see' Malaya (and, by extension, himself) for the first time.

In Malaisie the jungle, not surprisingly, is par excellence the site of these 'estragement-effects'. The jungle is depicted as the place where sight is defeated or interrupted by sound (p. 536); it is the negation of civilization (pp. 32, 53–54); it is beyond time (pp. 81–82). The jungle in Malaisie functions very much as a Lacanian Real—it is depicted by Fauconnier as the immensity, the sheer profligacy, of nameless sound that disrupts and overturns the Symbolic.14 Through his immersion in this pedagogy of derealization, Lescale undergoes a number of becomings, becomings that enable him to make some novel and even extraordinary identifications. He grasps, without perhaps knowing how he has really done this, that the fundamental impulse in Malay culture (as he sees it)—its 'soul'—is 'animistic', so that the boundaries between things, events, personages, etc., are utterly permeable, that for the Malay no place of division or point of separation is ever absolute. His surrender to this impulse in Malay culture brings about the realization, already possessed by his eminence grise Rolain, that this is perhaps not just the way things are 'for the Malays', but that this is perhaps how things really and always 'are' simoliciter: that nothing is durable; that everything is subject to dissolution; that reality is the invention of desire; that the individual is 'no more than a fermentation that swells and bursts' (p. 135); that 'purpose' is a fiction

<sup>13</sup> See [14]. De Lauretis discusses imaging in connection with the cinematic apparatus: 'The cinematic apparatus, in the totality of its operations and effects, produces not merely images but imaging. It binds affect and meaning to images by establishing terms of identification, orienting the movement of desire, and positioning the spectator in relation to them' (p. 137).

The cinematic apparatus is of course a technology of visualization par excellence. None the less, there is a sense in which the novel can be regarded as a scriptive apparatus for the regimentation and orchestration of images, images that have however to be generated by the reader. Fauconnier's descriptions of the sounds of the jungle function as a kind of disruptive Real can be found on p. 18, and pp. 24–26.

<sup>14</sup> Fauconnier's descriptions of the sounds of the jungle function as a kind of disruptive Real can be found on p. 18 and pp. 24–26.

*'The Writing of the Empire': Economies of Writing and 'Otherness' in Henri Fauconnier's… DOI: http://dx.doi.org/10.5772/intechopen.111680*

(p. 155); that there is no place for contraries (p. 190); that destiny is a series of tardy accidents (pp. 195–196); that 'events are advents—accident become flesh, entering the human domain' (p. 196); and so forth.

It is impossible to resist the thought that Fauconnier was deeply influenced by Nietzsche's doctrines of the eternal return, the power of the false, and of the overman, that for him the Malay is/was somehow the living embodiMent of these Nietzschean doctrines. Of course this is exoticism—what could be more pernicious in the eyes of those of us who have been sensitized to such matters by Fanon, Said, Bhabha, Trinh Minh Ha, and others, than to render 'the Oriental' as a Zarathustra, as the one that Nietzsche called the last man? But the text, and hence *this* text, is a flux of passions and actions rather than a chain of signs—it has therefore to be analyzed, in the manner of a 'dramatology', as a productive staging of imagings, passion, forces, and actions. When this is done, we see that what Malaisie produces is something quite strange.

Fauconnier's narrator, as I have indicated, is made to undergo a pedagogic series of becomings, he becomes 'other', he undergoes, in the terminology of Gilles Deleuze and Felix Guattari, a succession of deterritorializations. Lescale realizes that as a 'fermentation', a crystallization of forces and energies, he can be moved on, he can become indefinite, then definite, then indefinite again; he can become 'other'…'other'… 'other'… 'other'…. Malaisie renders this process or movement: Lescale finds his own fluid reality, his own specific becomings, permeated and endlessly displaced by the things around him. Surrendering to the animism surrounding him, he becomes panther (pp. 29–30), tiger (p. 77), animal (p. 84), durian fruit (pp. 86–87); he becomes Tamil (pp. 73–74), buffalo (p. 119), spirit (p. 119), fish (p. 129), insect (p. 137), the sea (pp. 171–172), the body of an angel (p. 171), and so forth. Lescale even learns another way of speaking when he realizes that, unlike French or any other European langauge for that matter, the Malay language is for him a 'literary' speech, a speech replete with the forms of a pure effectivity. The passage which shows him coming to this realization is worth quoting in full:

*Imagine, for example, this dialogue between two young Malays: the subject is a green coconut. What can they have to say about this subject? Listen: Osman, with lowered eyes, but with confidence: 'Where do the leeches come from?' And he sighs. Mat, reflectively, shakes his head: 'The hook is broken'. Osman protests: 'Would a lamp be lit?' And Mat responds with a cruel laugh: 'Very sweet is the sugar cane on the opposite bank'. This conversation could take place in a putative lunatic asylum, my reading gives me the key to it. Here is the translation into good modern French: The subject is a young woman. Andre, with lowered eyes, but with confidence: 'Ah! I've taken a fancy to that girl!' And he sighs.*

*Julian, reflectively, shakes his head: 'Old boy, you'll have to whistle for it'. Andre protests: 'Then why does she make eyes at me?' And Julian responds with a cruel laugh: 'Don't you see she's having you on?'*

*Here indeed are images, but images without life, clichés, the first expressions that came to mind, of unknown origin. In the Malay dialogue, on the contrary, all is allusion. It would be incomprehensible if one did not know the pantun of the leeches that came from the marshes to the rice fields, the pantun in which the sugar cane on the opposite bank symbolizes illusion or betrayal, the pantuns of the hook and of the lamp…. Such a dialogue implies a literary formation that seems astonishing in a people who are still primitive. But can one speak of literature when a mode of expression has become instinctive? The Malay shys away from any coarse expression of his thoughts and sentiments. The apparent preciosity is no more than modesty (pp. 161–163).15*

Lescale, in becoming acquainted with what he takes to be Malay's highly distinctive speech-forms, and thus undergoing a kind of 'becoming-Malay', is inserted into a world which effectively alienates him in his 'being-European' (this passage contains a resonance that can only be retained in the French—Lescale refers to the Malay dialogue as one that seemingly takes place in a lunatic asylum (un asile d'aliends), and the French term carries a connotation—of this dialogue having as its site of enunciation that place which is inhabited by 'aliens' (but of course it is he, Lescale, who is the 'alien')—that is certainly lost in translation).

#### **5. 'Becoming-other'**

This 'becoming-other' is something that Lescale comes to know for himself when he realizes he is constituted precisely, in theoretical language, as a flux of deterritorialization and proliferation. In the following passage Lescale gains this knowledge by successively becoming-night, becoming-bee, becoming-river:

*The night is a living thing that overwhelms me, in which I am dissolved. Is this I—this extended body? This curiously solid object that also appears as a void, like armour of a previous age? I contemplate it and float around it.*

*What floats is a puff of dust that thinks as a swarm of bees vibrates. It can be displaced with a single movement and is maintained by a million wings. Fragile* 

<sup>15</sup> It is noteworthy that Clifford Geertz describes the culture of a neighboring society (Java) in terms that are very like Fauconnier's depiction of Malay culture:

Yet, in the midst of this depressing scene there was an absolutely astonishing intellectual vitality—a philosophical passion, and popular one besides, to track the riddles of existence right down to the ground. Destitute peasants would discuss questions of freedom of the will; illiterate tradesmen discoursed on the properties of God; …. And, perhaps most important, the problem of the self—its nature, function, and mode of operation—was pursued with the sort of reflective intensity one would find among ourselves only in the most recherche settings indeed.

See [15].

*'The Writing of the Empire': Economies of Writing and 'Otherness' in Henri Fauconnier's… DOI: http://dx.doi.org/10.5772/intechopen.111680*

*cohesion, of contradictory life-forces, troubled desires, unknown instincts. That swarm is I, and I am fearful of myself.*

*I repeat 'I', 'I', until the word lacks any meaning, and then would seem to be attaining its true meaning, outside reality.*

*The individual ….*

*The river, what is it? The course that one may see, simplified, on maps—or the water it contains? The course is provisional, the water flows, it evaporates, is replaced from other sources, harmless, but maybe the next day full of cholera. Nothing dissembles more than drops of water. But the river is always called Sanggor.*

*Am I a milllion drops of spirit in a changing body, as illusory as a landscape? (pp. 120–121)*

These becomings-other constitute for Lescale a line of escape, or several lines of escape: each becoming-other establishes the relativity, the mobility, of its counterparts. Just as in Kafka's Metamorphosis and in Freud's account of the Wolf-Man (and this is Deleuze and Guattari's reading of these narratives).

Gregor Samsa's becoming-insect and the Wolf-Man's becoming-wolf are lines of escape from situations that are irretrievably Oedipal, familial; so in the reverie described in the above passage Lescale is embarked on a becoming-other constituted by a line of escape from a space that is defined and contained by the predicates 'white', 'European', 'Western'.16 But note: this line of escape is not one that culminates in an exchange or mixing of predicates.

Rolain and Lescale are drawn, solicited, by a new, heterotopian, space, in which it is not possible to trade or reverse such predicates. The protagonists in Malaisie are shown by Fauconnier to be assemblages of multiplicities (Lescale, e.g., is all those who populate the assemblage whose title is 'Lescale'), dynamic panoramas of becomings (Lescale, e.g., is those variable relations of becoming that obtain between 'him' and all those 'he' approaches), condensations of forces (Lescale, e.g., is a matrix of those forces which are transmitted to 'him' and those forces which 'he' transmits).17

This is the space of a new and very different possibility, one in which the very difference between white and nonwhite, European and nonEuropean, Western and nonWestern, becomes unpronounceable. The displacement of an Occidental/ European space of enunciation-visualization is registered so emphatically in Malaisie that Fauconnier even marks it at the level of 'nature' (as opposed to something that can be called 'the social' or 'the cultural'): hence during their fateful journey to the coast Rolain opines that, unlike Malaya, in Europe 'birds don't sing, they warble' (p. 156). At the same time it has to be acknowledged that this new space does not, and indeed cannot, abolish the powerfully effective spaces of domination and oppression which are the spaces of coloniality and postcoloniality: the social and cultural topography outlined in Malaisie covers these spaces of unfreedom just as much as it does the heterotopian space that is the zone of Lescales's disconcerting reverie. But what this heterotopian space does is to function as the 'unthought' of the spaces of the spaces of

<sup>16</sup> For Deleuze and Guattari see their Kafka: Toward a Minor Literature. Polan, D, trans. Minnesota: 1986. See especially p. 54. See also [16]. See especially pp. 26–28.

<sup>17</sup> Here I use a few conceptions derived from [17].

coloniality and postcoloniality: the very conditions of possibility of this heterotopian space necessitate the preemption of the discursive assemblage that is coloniality and postcoloniality.

Each becoming-other in Malaisie expresses a possible world unknown to its main protagonists—the worlds enveloped within the jungle and in Malay speech are there to be explicated, not so much in the sense that they are worlds which they (and here I have Rolain and Lescale specifically in mind) have to 'see', but that they are worlds in which Rolain and especially Lescale (who is after all the subject of this apprenticeship) are to be seen. Lescale comes to know, to see, that these are the worlds, hitherto unknown to him, in which he is henceforth to be rendered visible (to himself). Lescale has to see others—the Malays who inhabit these possible worlds—looking at him before he can come to *see* himself. He is drawn, involuntarily, into the barely imaginable, fabulous, worlds of something like a 'paracoloniality', albeit a 'paracoloniality' in the midst of Empire. Possible worlds in which his soul can be redistributedin ways that decompose the 'realities' of Empire and Europe.

In this redistribution of Lescale's being across the worlds of a 'paracoloniality', he discovers that he, and the worlds into which he is drawn, are only concretions of a historically determined desire. The upshot is that he and these worlds can be dismantled by other, alternative, configurations of desire, a dismantling that does not involve an act of negation on the part of Lescale and the inhabitants of these 'paracolonial' worlds. In taking the 'lines of escape' constitutive of these worlds, Lescale and his friends find a liberty that is not defined in relation to a 'master', a 'master' who, in the manner prescribed in Hegel's master-slave dialectic, has to be negated by the slave before the latter can become 'free'.18 In the domain of this 'paracoloniality', liberty is attainable in principle without recourse to strategies of a mastery, of a counter-domination that is only the obverse of the mastery and domination embodied in the figure of the colonial overlord. In the admittedly rare spaces of this 'paracoloniality', the actualities of mastery anddomination are comprehensively dissolved. (More will be said about this in the next section.)

#### **6. Sexual and erotic economies**

It is virtually impossible in so brief a space to do justice to the several complex intersecting erotic and sexual economies to be found in Malaisie. And not only that, but also to take into consideration the cross-determinations between these sexual/ erotic economies and those of race and class. My subsequent remarks, inevitably, will be somewhat cursory and schematic.

It is fairly obvious that the central conjuncture investment in Malaisie is the one that obtains between Lescale and their Malay men-servants Smail and Ngah. does have an intermittent sexual liason with Palaniai, the wife of his Tamil gardener, but, significantly, the emblematic figure who presides over this particular erotic conjuncture is mythic, namely, Teiresias, who, in Rolain's words 'deemed love to hold more joys for women than for man, because a woman surrenders herself more completely, and because to be loved by a man is something more rare and exhilarating

<sup>18</sup> Here I follow Deleuze and Guattari (Kafka: p. 59) in distinguishing between an 'escape' (which does not require an act of negation on the part of the escapee) and a 'freedom' (which requires precisely such a negation, but which in the process imposes a specific, and thus delimiting, horizon—that of a relation to the master—on the slave's quest for liberty).

#### *'The Writing of the Empire': Economies of Writing and 'Otherness' in Henri Fauconnier's… DOI: http://dx.doi.org/10.5772/intechopen.111680*

and exalting' (p. 158). In other words: Fauconnier, with a Proustian resonance, has Teiresias pronounce the love of woman (Palanaiai-Lescale) to be inferior in principle to the love of men, the love between men (Rolain-Lescale-Smail-Ngah). Palanaiai's function in the narrative is not so much erotic/sexual as it is 'ethical'. She puzzles Lescale because she evinces neither a 'modesty' nor an 'immodesty' in their love-making, that is, in his eyes she is able to elevate carnality into a domain that for him is manifestly 'paraethical' (though Lescale immediately compensates for this potentially uncomfortable knowledge by diminishing or trivializing her when he says of Palanaiai that 'the choice candy (bonbon) Malaya offered me, on behalf of India, resembled one of those chocolates wrapped in multicolored paper and filled with a sugary liqueur' (p. 64)).

Lescale is infatuated with Rolain, but their relationship is mediated in very decisive ways by their servants. I can only state it somewhat schematically here: in Malaisie the enabling condition of an erotic relationship between the two colonial masters is supplied by their relationships with their 'native' servants, so that the becoming-Smail/becoming-Ngah/becoming-Malay, etc., of the masters places them in a possible world in which they can grasp, or be in, the truth of a homoerotic reciprocity. That is to say, this possible world—which functions precisely to displace Rolain and Lescale as ones who are white, European, etc., is a world of transgressive erotic possibility otherwise foreclosed to them. But this possible world is situated in a constellation of numerous possible worlds, each of which affects the others. Worlds that, in Malaisie, are expressed by sorcerers, individuals of different races and nationalities, persons of mixed race, .a variety of landscapes, the brutal futilities of combat in the First World War, states of consciousness (the becoming-amok of Smail being the most significant of these—this particular becoming is, for Fauconnier, the expression of a kind of pure difference), and so forth. All these possible worlds are mutually implicated in the sexual/erotic economies contained in Malaisie, but they all serve to promote the conditions in which a homoerotic reciprocity can genuinely exist.

It may be tempting to explicate these sexual/erotic economies in Lacanian or quasi-Lacanian terms. Thus, going by these terms, it could perhaps be said that in Malaisie the condition of possibility of a homoerotic reciprocity between the nonDifferent (in this case two Europeans) was supplied by a relation with the Different or the Other (the Malay servants), so that one's displacement into, or deterritorialization by, the stranger enabled one to become familiar with the putative nonstranger (the nonDifferent or the Same), made it possible for there to be a 'return' (on the part of the familiar/and-yet-now-not-familiar) to a space of erotic possibility whose basic character is that of the constitutively Familiar. According to this line of thought, the displacement into the stranger brings in its train two other displacements, inasmuch as it is a condition of this homoerotic reciprocity that both the potential subject (who is white, male, and European) and the potential object (who also happens to be white, male, and European) of this reciprocity be displaced before it can be actualized. Now, admittedly, a lot of sympathetic unpacking needs to be done before the logic of this situation can be fully and adequately explicated according to notions derived from Lacanian strands of thought. But it is not difficult to see that this Lacanian or quasi-Lacanian framework is ultimately too wedded to a template of a dialactical thinking to be adequate to the complexities of the erotic/sexual economies of Malaisie. Of course it is a commonplace that Lacan's procedure involves a ceaseless overturning of binary oppositions, but this very overturning is predicated, irremovably, on the overall diacritical logic of the binary. It is true that Lacan's dictum 'every subject is a signifier

for another subject', when coupled with his claim that subjectivity is a formation 'like a language', necessarily entails that subjectivity is constituted in terms of its difference from other signifiers/subjects, a difference that in principle is endlessly repeatable.

But this account is still predicated on the Saussurean 'axiom' that signs only have their meaning by virtue of their reciprocal difference (this of course being the 'axiom' that motivates the Saussurean conception that language is a system of abstract equivalence which at the same time is constituted entirely of difference). This 'axiom' is therefore a very direct and powerful expression of the logic of identity and difference. By contrast, the account of the erotic/sexual economies in Malaisie that I have been trying to give is derived from a quite different logic—it is a logic that Brian Massumi has called a logic of 'hyperdifferentiation', that is, a logic which utilizes nonbinary modes of differentiation.19 I will take up this discussion in the concluding section of this paper when I consider the binary logic which underlies Fanon's thinking on the structure of the 'other'. At this point all that needs to be said is that the logic of an irreducible hyperdifferentiation adverted to here allows us better to theorize the potential plurality of 'becomings-other' which subtend erotic/sexual economies like the ones in Malaisie. This theorization, since it is undertaken along such resolutely nondiacritical lines, will accomodate the possibilty of antagonism without subsuming it under the principle of a binary differentiation. It needs also to be pointed out that psychoanalytic accounts (whether Lacanian or otherwise) of erotic/sexual economies tend invariably to invoke the logic of a triangulation, and that such a logic simply does not address the complexity of these economies as they are depicted in Malaisie. The narrative in Malaisie shows these economies to be multiply constellated, in that its protagonists, in so far as they are sexual subjects, do not have their sexual and erotic identifications constituted on the basis of a differentiation from an 'other' who is necessarily, according to the logic of triangulation, a 'third'. In Malaisie, there are sexual/erotic 'others', certainly, but these constitute 'fourths', 'fifths', and so on, each of whom is related to its counterparts in ways that do not conform to a dialectical logic. This feature of Malaisie's erotic/sexual economies is generated by the positioning of these economies in the wider sphere of what I have called a 'paracoloniality'. In this 'paracoloniality' we find principles of differentiation which proliferate identifications according to several, if not many, logics, logics which in some cases may noncommensurable, and hence not in any kind of direct or discernible opposition to each other.

#### **7. Economy of national difference and differentiation**

A salient feature of Malaisie is the narrative it provides of another economy, in this case the economy of national difference and differentiation. Rolain and Lescale, as was the case with Fauconnier, are Frenchmen living and working in a British colony. A great deal of the novel's humor has to do with culturally-generated and

<sup>19</sup> On this see [18]. See especially pp. 91, 177–1778 n. 73, 178 n. 74. It is with some trepidation that I characterize Lacan as a 'dialectician'. Not only are his writings (and this is to state the obvious) extremely difficult, but there is no real consensus on Lacan's adherence to the (Hegelian) dialectic. Thus, for example, Borch-Jacobsen, M. in his Lacan: The Absolute Master. Douglas Brick, trans. Palo Alto: Stanford University Press; 1991, argues that Lacan's radically different analysis of psychosis in the 1950s prompted him to abandon the dialectic after 1955. See pp. 85–90. On the other hand, Forrester, J. in his The Seductions of Psychoanalysis: Freud, Lacan and Derrida. Cambridge: Cambridge University; 1990), treats Lacan as a dialectician in the Hegelian tradition as mediated by Kojève. See p. 104.

*'The Writing of the Empire': Economies of Writing and 'Otherness' in Henri Fauconnier's… DOI: http://dx.doi.org/10.5772/intechopen.111680*

nationally-inflected differences of viewpoint, taste, etc. Thus, for example, Lescale and Rolain are mystified and gently amused by the kind of English 'tribalism' that manifests itself, emblematically, in the life of the colonial club: they encounter in the colonial club a perplexing combination of the subtly arcane rituals and the beery simplicities of a certain class of English male. None of the English characters in Malaisie appears even remotely desirous or capable of engaging in a conversation about Malay poetry or the influences that underlie Wagner's music (say); of wanting to move beyond a typically bluff, sportive, and schoolboyish cameraderie. The reader is left with no doubt that Rolain and Lescale prefer the company of their 'native' servants to that of their British counterparts.

This difference of outlook generated by a difference of national identity has at least two significant consequences. Firstly, it produces what is in effect a 'countercolonialism' (which is not the conflated with an 'anticolonialism'—Rolain and Lescale remain colonialists even when they distance themselves from the British). Rolain and Lescale, even though they remain colonialists, undermine, through their actions and demeanors, the rival, dominant British colonialism. More often than not it is done unwittingly, but there are times when this is deliberate. One such occasion is when they entertain their servants to a dinner party, in which all four eat rice and curry in 'native' fashion (i.e., with their fingers). Their conversation turns to Potter, the English rubber planter for whom Lescale had worked when he first came to Malaya. Lescale says:

*'… I thought of Potter. What would he say of this repast in the company of 'natives'?*

*'He would become aware of the fact', said Rolain, 'that four gentlemen [the English word is used by Rolain] can eat with their fingers'.*

*'He would be aware of nothing', I responded, 'but our moral decay'.*

*'That is possible. Potter is English, his moral code is simple: do as everyone else does. But if everyone acted like everyone else, no one would ever do anything. Without the anarchists, humanity would perish, or turn into an ant-hill. Organization is the great danger….*

*'Do not speak French, Tuan, today we are your guests'.*

*'He is right', said Rolain, 'we spend our time quibbling. Much better say like Smail, when he hears the rain: 'Chandrawasi is shedding his plumes'. He would prefer to speak of the fabled bird, although he knows it is the rain on the branches' (pp. 114–115).*

It is clear from this passage that Rolain sees himself as an embodiment of the anarchistic principle he talks about, the principle that in his eyes overturns the conformist British colonial mores exemplified by Potter. This displacement of the British is one of Malaisie's primary themes, and its effect as a kind of 'counter-colonialism' is evident in the above passage, when the dismissal of Potter and his fellow Englishmen paves the way, in this conversation at any rate, for the legitimation, the hearing, of the 'superior' speech of the 'native' servant Smail. (It is important not to be too sanguine about this 'counter-colonialism', since if Smail is 'licensed to speak' it is because he is granted this as a privilege by a colonialist—Rolain.)

The displacement of British colonialism by a kind of anarchic 'counter-colonialism' is accompanied in Malaisie by a parallel phenomenon, viz., that of 'going native'. The British simply are not capable of eating in the way that Smail and Ngah do, nor do they wear the *sarong*, which is what Rolain and Lescale do. On their idyllic trip to the coast, the Frenchmen follow the example of Smail and Ngah in shedding their clothes. When they receive a sudden visitation from the British District Officer, La Roque, it turns out that, as indicated by his name, he is of French ancestry anyway, and, moreover, he shows them a kind of solidarity by swimming naked himself. The British are evacuated from the zones in which the Frenchmen 'go native', and it is precisely in these zones in which the anarchic 'counter-colonialism' of Rolain and Lescale manifests itself. It is also here that their deep affinity for Malay culture shows itself in very practical ways. It is almost as if their belonging to a minority in terms of national identity (even though they remain Europeans) places them in something like a 'structurally' homologous position to those who are consigned to subalternity by the British colonial system. I do not want to make to much of this: Rolain and Lescale are not committed in any way to the abolition of subalternity as an 'oppositional' political project.

They remain colonialists. All that can plausibly be maintained here is that their version of 'going native'—marked as it is by a certain kind of 'Frenchness', and motivated as it is by the pursuit of an ineffable *jouissance*—is expressive of a disposition, a way of being in the world, that I think can appropriately be called 'paracoloniality'. And it is made evident to the reader that this version of 'going native' is precisely what motivates the homoerotic economy of Malaisie, for it is by shedding their 'Europeanness' that Rolain and Lescale can escape the confines of a compulsory heterosexuality inextricably bound-up with that 'European' identification.

#### **8. Conclusion**

I want to conclude by making some observations about the diacritical logic which underlies so many accounts and analyses of coloniality and postcoloniality. As I suggested earlier, Fanon is an exemplary instance in this regard. In his well-known description of the colonial world as 'a world divided into compartments, … a world cut in two', Fanon shows how the division of the colonial city into the European and the native quarters or sections typifies the way in which the colonial dispensation is constructed via a negation of its Oriental/subaltern opposite:

*'The settlers' town is a strongly built town, all made of stone and steel. It is a brightly lit town; the streets are covered with asphalt, and the garbage cans swallow all the leavings, unseen, unknown and hardly thought about. The settler's feet are never visible, except perhaps in the sea, but there you're never close enough to see them. His feet are protected by strong shoes although the streets of his town are clean and even, with no holes or stones. The settler's town is a well-fed town, an easygoing town; its belly is always full of good things. The settler's town is a town of white people, of foreigners.*

*The native town belonging to the colonized people, or at least the native town, the Negro village, the medina, the reservation, is a place of ill-fame, peopled by men of evil repute. They are born there, it matters little where or how; they die there, it matters not where, nor how. It is a world without spaciousness; men live there on top of each other, and their huts are built one on top of the other. The native town is a* 

*'The Writing of the Empire': Economies of Writing and 'Otherness' in Henri Fauconnier's… DOI: http://dx.doi.org/10.5772/intechopen.111680*

*hungry town, starved of bread, of meat, of shoes, of coal, of light. The native town is crouching village, a town on its knees, a town wallowing in the mire. It is a town of niggers and dirty Arabs' [19].*

Fanon goes on to say that 'the colonial world is a Manichean world' (p. 41), the logic of which is therefore starkly binary: the colonial constructs 'his' identity by making the 'native' into 'his' antitype, just as the colonist's town and the native's town are each other's antitypes. And Fanon is not alone in analyzing the colonial world as a system which functions on the basis of a dualistic logic: Edward Said has characterized Orientalism as a set of institutionally-sanctioned discursive formations which also obeys the same logic of 'type' and 'antitype'.20

My attempts to identify and clarify the somewhat different, because 'nonManichean', logic of 'hyperdifferentiation' that runs through Malaisie must not be seen as an attempt to repudiate the positions of Fanon and Said.

It is if anything a complementary codicil, but an important one nevertheless. It is virtually incontrovertible that there are important senses—identified by Fanon, Said, et al.—in which the colonial and postcolonial imaginary has a structure that is resolutely Manichean. At the same time, however, there is, at least in the very specific context purveyed in Malaisie, a side to this imaginary which is not expressed by a diacritical logic of the kind identified by Fanon. The colonial world, I am submit, is somewhat more complex and differentiated than such a logic can allow. The colonial world is shot-through with conflict and antagonism. But it is not obvious that the best way to theorize this opposition is necessarily one that invokes, exclusively, a dialectical logic.21 The economies of 'otherness' and 'othering' which define the colonial world are not always best understood solely in terms of a logic whose basic form is that of 'type' and 'antitype'.

<sup>20</sup> See Said, Orientalism: passim.

<sup>21</sup> The bypassing or circumscription of a dialectical logic proposed in this paper will have implications for the position of someone like Homi Bhabha, who has invoked the category of 'hybridization' as a means of overcoming or negating the stark and absolute oppositions of a Manichean logic. If, as is the case with Malaisie, there is from the outset a colonial world whose character is best understood in terms of a logic of 'hyperdifferentiation', then there is in principle no necessity to use a notion like 'hybridization' to overcome a dialectical logic.

*Comparative Literature – Interdisciplinary Considerations*

### **Author details**

Kenneth Surin Duke University, Durham, USA

\*Address all correspondence to: ksurin@duke.edu

© 2023 The Author(s). Licensee IntechOpen. This chapter is distributed under the terms of the Creative Commons Attribution License (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0), which permits unrestricted use, distribution, and reproduction in any medium, provided the original work is properly cited.

*'The Writing of the Empire': Economies of Writing and 'Otherness' in Henri Fauconnier's… DOI: http://dx.doi.org/10.5772/intechopen.111680*

#### **References**

[1] Ashcroft B, Griffiths G, Tiffin H. The Empire Writes Back: Theory and Practice in Post-Colonial Literatures. 2nd ed. London: Routledge; 2002. pp. 4ff

[2] Bhabha H. Signs taken for wonders: questions of ambivalence and authority under a tree outside Delhi, May 1817. In: Gates HL Jr, editor. 'Race', Writing and Difference. Chicago: University Of Chicago Press; 1986. pp. 163-184

[3] Of Mimicry and Man: The Ambivalence of Colonial Discourse, October 28, 1984. pp. 125-133

[4] de Certeau M. 'Ethno-Graphy', in his The Writing of History. Conley T, trans. New York: Columbia University Press; reprint ed. 1992

[5] de Certeau M. Montaigne's of Cannibals: The Savage 'I', in his Heterologies: Discourse on the Other. Massumi B, trans. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press; 1986. pp. 67-79

[6] Levi-Strauss C. Tristes Tropiques. Weightman J, trans., Weightman D, trans., Wilcken P. Introduction: Harmondsworth: Penguin Classics; reprint ed.; 2012. p. 85

[7] de Certeau M. Lacan: An Ethics of Speech. Logan R-M, trans. In de Certeau, Heterologies. pp. 47-64

[8] Friedman J. Beyond otherness or: the spectacularization of anthropology. Telos. 1987;**71**:161-170

[9] Said E. Representing the colonized: anthropology's interlocutors. Critical Inquiry. 1989;**15**(Winter):205-225

[10] McGrane B. Beyond Anthropology: Society and the Other. New York: Columbia University Press; 1989

[11] Said EW. Orientalism. New York: Vintage; 1979. p. 169

[12] Fanon F. Black Skin, White Masks: The Experiences of a Black Man in a White World. Markmann CL, trans. New York: Grove Press; 1967

[13] JanMohammad A. Manichean Aesthetics: The Politics of Literature in Colonial Africa. Amherst: University of Massachusetts Press; 1983

[14] de Lauretis T. Alice Doesn't: Feminism, Semiotics, Cinema. Bloomington: Indiana University Press; 1984

[15] Geertz C. From the Native's point of view: on the nature of anthropological understanding. In: Rabinow P, Sullivan W, editors. Interpretive Social Sciences. Berkeley: University of California Press; 1979. p. 230

[16] Deleuze G, Guattari FL. A Thousand Plateaus: Capitalism and Schizophrenia. Massumi B, trans. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press. 1987

[17] Deleuze G. Logique du Sens. Paris: Minuit; 1969. pp. 292-372

[18] Massumi B. A User's Guide to Capitalism and Schizophrenia: Deviations from Deleuze and Guattari. Cambridge, Mass: The MIT Press; 1992

[19] Fanon F. The Wretched of the Earth. Richard Philcox, trans. New York: Grove Press; 2021. p. 39

#### **Chapter 4**

## The Captive Nations in Malay and Persian Travel Narratives

*Firuz-Akhtar Lubis and Zaizul Abd Rahman*

#### **Abstract**

*Siyāḥatnāmah-*ʾ*i Ibrāhīm Bayg* (SIB), a fictionalized Persian travelog by Zayn al-ʿAbidīn Marāghah-ī, and *Kesah Pelayaran Abdullah* (KPA) a Malay travelog by Abdullah Munshi, similarly portray unfavorable commentaries about the nation from observations during travel. Both deliver multilayered messages through series of dialogs, intertextuality quotes, and various analogies. Paradoxically, the unfavorable remarks about the nation act as wake-up call to the awareness of the nation's real condition. SIB was published anonymously but later it gained recognition as being important in the process of a country's revolution. KPA was published publicly from the beginning but was seen as propaganda to devalue the nation. However, KPA is deemed revolutionary due to its contribution for the development of Malay literature. Despite the displeasing ambiance of both narratives, the doctrine of nationalism actively echoes. Therefore, KPA and SIB should be considered as cultural products of nationalism for their respective countries, Malaya and Iran.

**Keywords:** Persian, Malay, travelog, nation, captivity

#### **1. Introduction**

*"…Everywhere the obligations of the ruler and the duties of the ruled are known and specified, except for Iran, where we unlucky people are prisoner to the order and subject to the carnal requests of this handful of pharaohs and Nimrods for whom whatever they command about our property, life, and honor, is carried out, and they are not called to account. Our screams for justice get nowhere. Today, the blacks of Habash and Sudan have been delivered from this imprisonment and oppression and possess every kind of human right. But poor us, they harden the chain of our captivity daily and tighten the circle of our human rights every moment more than before [1]."*

This passage from SIB expresses sorrow over Iran, depicted as a country lacking justice. The reference to historical figures such as the pharaohs and Nimrods, notorious for their tyrannical rule, highlights the oppressive nature of the nation's leaders. In contrast, the citizens are portrayed as unfortunate captives, deprived of their freedom, particularly when compared to the Habash and Sudan, which have a history of slavery. The tightening restrictions on their human rights are metaphorically depicted as a constricting chain of captivity. Although it may initially appear as the cry of an oppressed heart, the passage prompts a deeper understanding of captivity.

While it may not be accurate to associate a nation with physical or mental captivity, it is justifiable to symbolically portray a desolate nation as conceptually imprisoned.

#### **2.** *Kesah Pelayaran Abdullah* **(KPA) by Abdullah Munshi**

KPA stands out as an innovative piece of early modern Malay literature due to its pioneering use of Western travel writing techniques [2]. Its author, Abdullah bin Abdul Kadir, also known as Abdullah Munshi, was an Arab-Tamil figure celebrated for his remarkable skill in crafting Malay literature and regarded as the Father of Modern Malay literature. Notably well-educated, Abdullah Munshi demonstrated proficiency in Tamil, Malay, Arabic, English, and Hindi. He had prior involvement with the British and Christian evangelists, working as a language teacher, translator, and scribe [3].

In March 1838, Abdullah took on the role of a letter bearer to Kelantan and personal interpreter for an English officer named Grandpe. Their journey involved traveling by water and making stops in other states such as Pahang and Terengganu. Abdullah's decision to document his experiences was influenced by the encouragement he received from Alfred North, a British missionary who later assisted him in publishing the travelog. It is worth noting that KPA generated controversy due to Abdullah's inclusion of unfavorable remarks about Malay society and a member of the Malay royal family, Tengku Temena. Additionally, sarcastic comments comparing the Malays and the British portrayed Abdullah as a subservient figure to the English. However, it is important to note that the narrative does not touch upon sensitive religious issues.

Despite KPA's inclination toward Western values and its critical tone toward the Malays, it continues to be valued for its revolutionary style and has even been used as a textbook in schools. In comparison to earlier travelogues, Skinner lauds KPA for its intellectual writing style as it goes beyond mere description and incorporates analytical situations, information searches, and expressions of opinions [4]. In essence, KPA can be viewed as a manuscript that played a role in literary reform. However, Sweeney disagrees and accuses it of undermining Malay values [2]. This study proposes a different perspective, suggesting that the antagonistic narratives in KPA should be seen as a strategy to expose the nation's captivity, positioning it as an act of rescuing the nation rather than one of 'treachery.' KPA will be compared to another travel narrative*, Siyāḥatnāmah-*ʾ*i Ibrāhīm Bayg*, which shares similarities in various aspects.

#### **3.** *Siyāḥatnāmah-***ʾ***i Ibrāhīm Bayg* **(SIB) by Zayn al-ʿAbidīn Marāghah-ī**

SIB, authored by Zayn al-ʿAbidīn Marāghah-ī, is a fictionalized travelog that reflects the author's extensive experiences abroad, including stays in Russia and Istanbul. While he primarily wrote social and political articles for newspapers, his most notable work is his travel narrative of Ibrāhīm Bayg [5]. According to Yaḥyā Aryān Pūr, SIB holds a pioneering status in Persian literature as it is regarded as the first Persian novel to adopt a European style [6]. SIB had a profound impact on the Iranian Constitutional Revolution (1905–1907) by providing a portrayal of the actual conditions of politics, society, and culture in late nineteenth and early twentieth century Iran [1]. Notably, it achieved this through the guise of an imaginary travel account.

#### *The Captive Nations in Malay and Persian Travel Narratives DOI: http://dx.doi.org/10.5772/intechopen.112032*

Due to the stark depiction of societal realities in SIB and the existing restrictions on controversial publications, the first and second volumes of the travelog were published anonymously at different locations and times. Possessing or reading the work could result in fines, yet it gained popularity due to its alignment with the constitutional movement [7]. The initial volume was published in Cairo in 1896, followed by the second volume in Calcutta in 1905, and finally, the third volume in Istanbul in 1909 [5]. It was only after the establishment of the constitution that the author's name, "Ḥājī Zayn al-ʿAbidīn Marāghah-ī, an Iranian merchant residing in Istanbul," was revealed in the third volume [7].

The first volume of SIB primarily presents itself as a travel account, characterized by a prevailing mood of disappointment and annoyance. For the purpose of this chapter, only the first volume of SIB will be incorporated as it offers significant observations about a nation during travel, aligning well with the topic of a captive nation. SIB has been translated into various languages, including German in 1903, Russian in 1963, and English in 2006 [8]. The English translation by James D. Clark specifically covers only the first volume. In general, the first volume recounts the story of Ibrāhīm Bayg, an individual of Iranian origin but born and raised in Egypt. His father imparts to his tales and wonders of Iran, instilling a sense of patriotism and yearning for his homeland. Ibrāhīm then embarks on a journey to Iran to fulfill his father's last wishes. Paradoxically, Iran turns out to be different from his father's descriptions, leading him to experience bitter disappointment. This unexpected contradiction gives rise to an identity crisis, torn between his aspirations as a nationalist and the realities he confronts. The distressing conditions he witnesses in Iran contribute to a prevailing tone in SIB that is either bleak or cuttingly sarcastic.

It is indeed intriguing to observe that both travel narratives depict a nation in a state of captivity. Through their realistic descriptions, they effectively highlight the captivity of society, its leaders, and ultimately, the nation as a whole. An interesting point to consider is that both KPA and SIB present the metaphorical "chains" of captivity in strikingly similar ways, implying that there are universal factors that hinder a nation's progress and development.

#### **4. The captivity of society**

Undoubtedly, the people form a crucial pillar of any nation, and the state of society greatly influences the overall well-being of a country. In both KPA and SIB, the descriptions of the people evoke a sense of frustration that encompasses a combination of anger and sympathy. The narratives highlight the challenges faced by the society, emphasizing three significant problems that act as shackles on its progress: ignorance, filthiness, and idleness.

#### **4.1 Ignorance**

In both KPA and SIB, ignorance emerges as a significant chain of captivity, manifesting in various forms and underscoring its role in hindering a nation's progress. Ignorance is explored through two prominent themes: the knowledge diversity and the prioritization of its application. Both KPA and SIB express profound concerns regarding society's neglect of various types of knowledge. In KPA, there is a specific focus on the indifference of the Malay people toward the importance of developing their Malay language skills. Abdullah, during his visit to Pahang, articulates his frustration with this indifference:

*The Malay spoken in Pahang is elegant and correct as it should be since it is the Malay of Johore. When I heard how well and charmingly the people spoke, I felt really grieved that they did not study their own language and had no schools. If in Malay countries (states) the people would exert themselves to get a good teacher for their children, all those states would be full of people knowing how to read and write and compose religious and scientific books. I pray that Almighty God may open their eyes and turn their thoughts to more useful objects. What a useless life they lead. As the proverb says, they grasp at shadow and lose the substance, that is, they never really learn Arabic and neglect the study of Malay. It is very wrong that children should waste their youth when they should be learning their language [9].*

The commendation of the Malays in Pahang for their eloquent speech implies an assumption regarding their inherent talent in the Malay language. However, Abdullah's despair arises from the lack of proper language education and refinement of their skills. This critique underscores concerns about the future of Malay composition, which is crucial for expressing the identity of the Malays through the beauty of language. In essence, KPA suggests the following formula: (**Figure 1**).

The improvement of Malay language knowledge becomes crucial in sharpening the composition skills of the people. Furthermore, the publication of books covering various fields can help spread knowledge and contribute to the nation's development. However, the process of building a civilized nation through enhanced language skills faces a major obstacle: the lack of educators. The inclusion of prayers amidst the criticism reflects a dual voice, serving as both a plea for the Malays' awareness of the ignorance chain and a cry for help. While the people study Arabic, the language of the Qurān, KPA emphasizes the importance of mastering their native language first before delving into foreign languages. The absence of proper Malay education for the younger generation is seen as a significant flaw that could lead to various detrimental consequences for the Malays in the future.

KPA also emphasizes the importance of life management knowledge. During his visit to Kelantan, Abdullah is taken aback that people are incapable of recognizing life opportunities and making prudent choices to improve their future:

*And I saw cattle and buffaloes and goats by the hundred lying all over the rice fields; they had no pens and no one was looking after them; they just lived on their own.*

*I asked the man who owned them.*

*He said that everyone on the locality owned some; they went about in herds and multiplied; they might get taken by tigers, they might just die, and they might produce young—no one cared.*

**Figure 1.** *Formula for a civilized nation in KPA.* *I asked whether they were not milked and was their flesh not eaten.*

*He said, no, people in Kelantan did not care for milk or meat; they infinitely preferred fish.*

*I reflected that if a man in Singapore had even half of these animals, they would soon make him rich. I observed too that all these animals and the livestock, generally, and the plants were in fine condition [9].*

KPA sheds light on a societal issue concerning inadequate management of domestic animals. Despite having an abundance of domestic animals, the Malays in Kelantan fail to seize this valuable opportunity, often without even realizing it. Due to the absence of proper living conditions and supervision for the animals, there is a lack of benefits derived from them, resulting in complete negligence. This portrayal depicts the community as trapped within the prison of ignorance. Although there is no direct criticism aimed at the people of Kelantan, the comparison with Singaporeans carries a dual-tone, suggesting the ignorance of the Malays in Kelantan who could lead better lives if they knew how to harness the benefits of their abundant natural resources.

In contrast, SIB places a greater emphasis on the indifference of Iranians toward arts and sciences. The narrative often conveys a sense of disappointment through a blend of anguish and melancholic narration.

*If the nation had learned this noble science in schools from books, recitation, and the instruction of intelligent teachers, today they would have found numerous valuable mines around the country and have relieved some of the needs of the homeland to a degree. And, to the same extent, having saved from that destructive fire the homes that the false and inhumane alchemists burned with the destructive spark of the elixir, it would have protected their inhabitants from the misfortunes of abjection following honor and have gradually added to the civilization of the homeland [1].*

The comments are characterized by the use of conditional sentences, which express a dual voice of regret regarding the perceived "damage" inflicted upon the nation. As the protagonist journeys through Iran, he witnesses the absence of exceptional educators, which consequently leads to a lack of emphasis on science education. This societal neglect results in missed opportunities, preventing the exploration and appreciation of the wonders and richness of the world. Furthermore, it exposes the community to the misfortunes that arise from ignorance. Unfortunately, this chain of ignorance becomes a shackle that engulfs the society in despair and holds the nation back, leading to stagnation and backwardness.

In essence, both KPA and SIB consistently highlight the absence of diverse knowledge as a significant factor contributing to a nation's captivity. The variety of education should have been in dialogism to create a civilized society; however, ignorance becomes the monological factor that hinders progress. This raises questions about the capacity of individuals such as the Malays in KPA and the Iranians in SIB to absorb and retain a substantial amount of knowledge. In SIB, there is a strong emphasis on the immense potential of Iranians residing in foreign lands, thereby rendering the excuse of incompetence based on ethnicity or nationality as unacceptable. The protagonist firmly believes that Iranians can attain a high level of education as he has personally witnessed such achievements:

*I know a group of children of the nobles of Iran who entered numerous schools in Russia, France, and England to study. With all the difficulties of living abroad and being aliens, it seems that they have surpassed the natives in the matter of education. But with all of this God-given ability, the readers will ask, "Why Iranians remained behind the others in everything?" The reason for that is obvious: from the lack of mentor and from the lack of an educator [1].*

Irrespective of nationality, Iranians have demonstrated their ability to excel in knowledge when given the opportunity in developed countries. The protagonist's rare praise in SIB carries a deeper message of captivity awareness, indicating a recognition of being trapped or limited in their own homeland. While acknowledging the brilliance of Iranians abroad, there is an underlying emphasis on the invisible confinement experienced by Iranians within their own country. Their right to education and opportunities for advancement are hindered by a lack of qualified educators. This may suggest a dual voice that encourages Iranians to seek knowledge outside their homeland as a means of liberation. Alternatively, the praise can be interpreted as a warning about the potential loss of Iranian intellectuals who may eventually emigrate in search of knowledge if efforts to free Iran from the chains of ignorance are not undertaken. In summary, both KPA and SIB underscore the significance of expertise in diverse fields of knowledge as a means for society to break free from the chains of ignorance.

In summary, both KPA and SIB extensively explore the theme of ignorance, highlighting its profound impact on society. The portrayal of ignorance is conveyed through diverse linguistic expressions, encompassing descriptive, anguished, melancholic, and sarcastic tones. The presence of numerous narratives on this subject in both travelogs enables readers to perceive the interplay of voices, depicting ignorance as a formidable chain that restricts society. However, ignorance is not the sole captivity chain addressed in these narratives. KPA and SIB also delve into the issue of filthiness, emphasizing the significance of cleanliness and its potential to exert adverse influence on a nation. Despite its seemingly trivial nature, the pervasiveness of uncleanliness can significantly undermine individuals and consequently hinder a nation's progress.

#### **4.2 Filthiness**

Interestingly, both KPA and SIB underscore the significance of hygiene and cleanliness, recognizing them as essential for human well-being. Both narratives emphasize that cleanliness is a fundamental aspect of civilization and is closely tied to the development of a nation. However, despite its importance, the people in these narratives are depicted as neglecting cleanliness and remaining oblivious to its consequences for their lives and their homeland. In order to raise awareness about this captivity chain, KPA and SIB employ different strategies. While KPA frequently addresses the issue of filthiness and highlights its negative effects, SIB employs exaggeration and vivid descriptions to bring attention to the topic. This strategic approach aims to capture the reader's attention and provoke a response, ultimately fostering captivity awareness. For instance:

*I saw an old man of seventy years who had a felt hat on his head, a towel wrapped around it, a red beard, and a black face. A ton of dirt had been sifted on his head and all of his teeth had fallen out. His half-dead eyes rolled in their sockets. His* 

*clothes were so filthy that it is beyond description. It was not clear what color the cloth of his clothes was in the beginning [1].*

The portrayal of the old man's appearance and clothing in SIB is deliberately exaggerated, employing vivid analogies to create a strong visual depiction of extreme filthiness that evokes disgust. In contrast, KPA frequently highlights filthiness to the point of annoyance to emphasize the seriousness of the matter and foster a realization of its pernicious effects. KPA presents filthiness in a comprehensive manner that involves many aspects:

*The houses were thatched and poorly constructed; under them were puddles and piles of rubbish. I entered a number of houses to see how they were arranged inside and observed the sleeping and living and eating arrangements; everything was dirty and smelly [9].*

The observations in KPA highlight filthiness in various areas, including dwellings, habits, utensils, food, and surroundings. While not as detailed as SIB, the repetition in KPA leaves a strong impression of filthiness. The narrative appears to be from the perspective of someone with high cleanliness standards, meticulously pointing out even minor details. KPA even compares Malay food unfavorably to Western cuisine, which has led to accusations of an Anglophilic bias. Nevertheless, this strategy effectively raises awareness about the issue of filthiness and its role in societal captivity.

Exposing the reality of society's dirtiness matters because both KPA and SIB view it as a significant problem with the potential to bring misery to the nation. While their styles of presenting the issue differ, with SIB emphasizing vividness and KPA focusing on frequent repetition, both narratives converge in highlighting the inimical effects of filthiness. For instance, SIB vividly describes the experience in a bathhouse:

*When we entered the bath, the smell of the putrid water almost choked me from afar. They had collected a pool of stinking water and called it a cistern or, in other words, kor. Its water had taken on the colors of a peacock because of the abundance of filth, and its foul smell agitated a person's brain [1].*

On the other hand, KPA illustrates the condition of houses, where toilets are located directly beneath them:

*It is as if they rejected the mercy of God who has made smells what they are; and so, they keep pools of water and privies right up against the place where they live and sleep in order that the smell may seethe up into their brains instead of being carried away by the wind. And thus, it is that they live all their lives in stink and sickness [9].*

Both narratives vividly depict the repulsive effects that can be perceived through the senses of smell and sight. In SIB, the analogy of the water's color resembling that of a peacock enhances the reader's imagination of the filthiness. In contrast, KPA highlights the habit of leaving excrement beneath houses and tolerating a foul environment as a defiance of God's blessings. Prophet Muhammad also emphasized the significance of cleanliness in life, as conveyed in a hadith from Sahih Muslim: "Purification is half of faith [10]."

Indeed, both KPA and SIB emphasize the significance of cleanliness, particularly in the context of Islamic teachings. They portray indifference toward cleanliness as a disregard for religious principles. Through their aggressive narrations on filthiness,

they aim to highlight its negative impact on the brain. The foul odors are depicted as harmful to both physical and mental health, impairing intelligent thinking and hindering personal development, as well as societal progress. Although not as extensively explored as the issue of ignorance, the focus on cleanliness remains a significant factor that must be addressed to attain liberation and advancement as a nation.

#### **4.3 Idleness**

During a visit to Terengganu, KPA vividly describes the state of idleness within the society. Unfortunately, the captivity chains are not only limited to ignorance and filthiness. Idleness is also seen as a damaging disease that contributes to the captivity of individuals and the nation as a whole. For instance:

*I felt really distressed when I saw that it was women who sold in the market and women who hawked goods, women in fact who kept the house in food. The work that women did ought to have been done by men. \* For when women do men's work and leave their houses for the whole day, there is no one to look after their children, who do as they please, and wallow in dirt, and get cold or wet or dry with no one to say to them nay. And so, the children get all sorts of diseases and fall about and get bumps; and their bodies get enfeebled and covered with itch and yaws\*\* and so on.*

*Surely women ought to stay at home and see to their husbands' meals and save their children from the dangers above described and from bad associations. And they ought to employ themselves in cleaning their houses and the surroundings.*

*If the men went out to earn their living and do work profitable to themselves and their families, they would show themselves more truly brave than by carrying weapons hither and thither all day long in times of peace. Now, they are like children who trail about without doing anything that serves a useful purpose. The really brave man is he who overcomes his desire to be idle and sit swapping stories and do nothing but eat and sleep. Any coward can carry weapons [9].*

This excerpt sheds light on the chronic illness within society by examining the components, consequences, and recommendations pertaining to idleness. KPA portrays the elements that contribute to the chain of idleness, which can be understood as follows: (**Figure 2**).

The citizens' mundane activities of eating, sleeping, storytelling, and idle weapon handling are deemed worthless by KPA. The author challenges the traditional notion of manliness, sarcastically remarking on how even coward and unworthy individuals can handle weapons. The lack of urgency to improve their lives, absence of focus, and

#### *The Captive Nations in Malay and Persian Travel Narratives DOI: http://dx.doi.org/10.5772/intechopen.112032*

overall laziness are portrayed as elements forming the chain of idleness, leading to harmful consequences, especially within the family institution.

KPA directs attention to the destructive impact of idleness on family heads as their inactivity can harm other family members. Interestingly, this creates a paradox, where idle men inadvertently push women to become active breadwinners. Consequently, women's increased work responsibilities lead to their absence from home, potentially affecting the well-being and upbringing of children, thus posing a threat to the family's health, safety, and overall welfare.

KPA may appear to lean toward anti-feminism by suggesting that women should be confined to the home. However, from a paradoxical standpoint, KPA can be seen as advocating for feminism by highlighting the mistreatment of Malay women who are denied the freedom to manage their own households and children due to their husbands' idleness. The criticism of idle men and the concern for the well-being of the future generation emphasize the need for responsible male leadership and the importance of competent and well-managed family institutions. Ultimately, KPA urges men to be more aware of the harm caused by idleness and to actively fulfill their roles as leaders within their families.

As educated individuals, the protagonists of both travel narratives find it disheartening to witness the prevalent idleness within their respective nations despite the alarming conditions. In SIB, the author frequently summarizes the visits to various locations by emphasizing the society's general state of sluggishness:

*As I said about the condition of the people of the city, they are, to that same degree, satisfied with the world day and night. They do not want to rise one step above the place where they are standing now. Self-indulgence and wantonness have taken over every bit of their bodies. One brother is distant from the home because of being afflicted with the illness of leprosy. Another brother is enjoying himself beside the river with others. A group is afflicted with the incurable pain of smoking opium, which is worse than leprosy. All are ignorant of the meaning of "Love of the homeland is part of faith."*

*Never were they informed about this world and the hereafter. They are completely ignorant of the benefits of increasing the wealth of the general populace, the science of living, and patriotism.*

*They are dead, but alive, alive, but dead [1].*

In a regretful tone, SIB portrays the severity of societal slothfulness by enumerating key factors contributing to it: lack of ambition and motivation, self-indulgence, and wantonness. Through the example of three indifferent brothers, the narrative aims to serve as a wake-up call, illustrating the reality of individuals drowning in purposelessness. In comparison to KPA, SIB takes a more proactive approach in linking the destructive effects of captivity chains to the nation's development, specifically highlighting their impact on the economy, knowledge, and patriotism. The recurring sentence "they are dead, but alive, alive, but dead" within the summaries serves as a powerful declaration of captivity, demanding attention to be paid to these living corpses.

KPA and SIB both highlight the peril of idleness within a community. Despite its seemingly harmless nature, sluggishness can inflict significant harm upon a nation as its people are the architects of its progress. By exposing the societal captivity through various chains, both narratives delve deeper into the root causes. They emphasize the

crucial role of leaders in safeguarding and nurturing their people, akin to the relationship between parents and children, in order to foster a thriving nation. Through persistent narration on leadership, it becomes evident that KPA and SIB attribute the main cause of societal captivity to corrupt rulers.

#### **5. The leaders**

The narratives of KPA and SIB shed light on the societal plight of being trapped in multiple captivity chains, and they recognize that the blame does not solely rest on the shoulders of the society itself. Despite the presence of hope, awareness, and efforts for progress, the society is hindered by the oppressive rule of its leaders. Through heteroglossia narratives, including personal observations and dialogs with others, both narratives actively depict the lamentation and anguish caused by such oppression. Tragically, the presence of cruel and oppressive leaders is portrayed as a normalized representation of the world.

Despite their perceived power and dominance, KPA and SIB suggest that cruel leaders are themselves trapped in an invisible captivity. The narratives portray these leaders as living in an illusory world of success, oblivious to their own acts of oppression. While they belong to the upper class, they too are imprisoned by two chains of captivity: indifference and greed. The narratives provide numerous hostile accounts of these leaders, highlighting their lack of empathy and insatiable desire for personal gain. This portrayal serves to expose the self-imposed limitations and blindness that hinder their ability to govern justly and compassionately.

#### **5.1 Indifference**

KPA portrays Tengku Temena, a member of the royal family, with a sense of remorse and sadness:

*Early next morning Gradpre and I went ashore to see Raja Temenabut we found that he was still asleep in a house by the shore; he did not get up until about 11 o'clock. The fact was that he was an opium smoker; he was very thin—a bag of bones, in fact—and his lips were black and he had a spiritless look. When he got up, I sat chatting with him for a while about my forthcoming voyage; we were only waiting for the Chinese boat [9].*

The excerpt provides a straightforward description of a royal figure, but beneath the surface, it reveals the concerning issue of a leader who lacks ambition, charisma, good health, and concern for the people. The expression of pity demonstrates an awareness of this captivity, yet the leader remains oblivious or indifferent to it, raising doubts about their suitability to guide a community in the pursuit of nation-building.

#### **5.2 Greed**

SIB highlights the captivity of leaders through their insatiable greed, which has rendered them senseless. The narrative depicts the governor of an Iranian city as a prime example, emphasizing his lust for power, authority, wealth, and recognition as manifestations of this captivity:

*"It is the governor of the city," he said. "He is going hunting." He told us, "Stand up straight. When he passes, bow like the others are doing." When I took a good look, I saw that the people were prostrating from all four sides and in six directions. And he, paying no attention to it at all, kept twisting his mustache right and left.*

*"What will happen if we don't bow?" I said.*

*He said, "They call those on that side of him with their clubs the footmen. It seems that you have grown tired of living."*

*"No," I said. "I still have a thousand desires left in my heart." Very courteously and standing up straight, I bowed with complete humility when the governor came near. "A calamity had come, but it passed without incident."*

*Since I had never seen this situation anywhere until now, I was very surprised. I said, "May you be civilized Iran! The governor of a city like London with a population of a million goes everywhere alone and no one pays any attention to him. It is remarkable that the governor of one of our small provinces garners such respect. Kingship must be like this [1]."*

The governor's arrogance and enjoyment of the people's submission, enforced through fear and threats, reflect his immense greed for authority and attention, despite being ill-suited for it. The act of prostration is performed out of fear as the people face the threat of physical abuse if they do not comply. The protagonist's prayers for the Iranians and the comparison between leaders in London and Iran serve as a plea for awareness of the captivity caused by greed. The declaration of surprise serves as a heteroglossia expression, conveying sarcasm toward the harsh reality in Iran. It expresses a sense of irony and disbelief, highlighting the bitterness and adverse circumstances that exist within the country. The chains of greed and indifference that bind the leaders contribute to societal harm and the lack of protection and guidance for the people, making them crucial factors in the society's own captivity.

Both KPA and SIB portray the captivity chains that restrict both societies and their leaders. In the upcoming subtopic, the concept of layered captivity will be explored, delving deeper into the multiple levels of confinement that hinder progress and development.

#### **6. The imprisoned nation**

Benedict Anderson defined a nation as "an imagined political community…and imagined as both inherently limited and sovereign [11]". The citizens and rulers are interdependent in building a nation, and its existence, progress, and downfall rely on both. KPA and SIB illustrate the captivity experienced by the society, and its leaders, highlighting the chains of ignorance, filthiness, idleness, indifference, and greed. While these captivity chains differ between the two groups, they converge to create a tragic victim, which is the nation itself. The nation becomes trapped in layered captivity, hindering its progress and leading it toward misery. KPA and SIB present this concept of layered captivity in distinct forms within their narratives.

#### **6.1 The captive nation in KPA**

The tiered imprisonment of the nation in KPA can be viewed as follows: (**Figure 3**). From the pie chart, it is evident that the leaders' captivity has ensnared the citizens, showcasing the profound decline of the nation into conceptual imprisonment. This visual representation illustrates the stages of imprisoning the nation and suggests the necessary measures for liberation. To break free from the confines of these multiple prisons, a rescue path must be constructed and it should start from the stage of rulers.

#### **6.2 The captive nation in SIB**

In contrast, SIB presents a more intricate layered captivity of the nation compared to KPA, involving multiple tiers and victims. The fourth victim identified in SIB's nation's layered captivity is the protagonist, Ibrāhīm Bayg. This raises questions about how a protagonist, who functions as an observer in a travel narrative, could become entangled in such a complex captivity. Firstly, Ibrāhīm's imprisonment within the prison of nostalgia will be explored, followed by an explanation of how this captivity renders him a victim of the nation's layered captivity.

#### *6.2.1 Captives of nostalgia*

SIB explores the intricate connections between nostalgia, nationalism, and fanaticism, blurring the boundaries between these concepts. The protagonist's father is depicted as a character trapped within this complex web of ideologies. SIB begins by introducing Ibrāhīm's father:

*This honest merchant of pure belief, during the long years that he resided in Egypt, never changed a single one of his admirable national habits or his own praiseworthy Iranian manners. In his association with people, in his eating and sleeping, and in his own dress, he behaved in the same manner that was seen in his ancestors. In terms of patriotism, he was so intense that during all those years he had not spoken one word of Arabic with anyone. On the contrary, he did not want to learn it. All of his talk was about Iran. He continuously sang a melody of the homeland. From every person he would see, he would inquire about the state of the country and the conditions of his fellow countrymen. He himself was in Egypt, while his thoughts were always in Iran [1].*

**Figure 3.** *Tiered nation captivity in KPA.*

#### *The Captive Nations in Malay and Persian Travel Narratives DOI: http://dx.doi.org/10.5772/intechopen.112032*

Instead of focusing on the protagonist, SIB initially introduces the father to explore the possibility of inherited imprisonment, which Ibrāhīm might have acquired from his father. The father is depicted as a person who maintains a strong sense of patriotism toward his homeland, even while living abroad. The portrayal of his nationalism reflects the ambivalence of fanaticism. However, his daily activities, fashion choices, language preferences, singing habits, and longing for Iran also contribute to a nostalgia prison, which carries a more melancholic tone compared to fanaticism. Nostalgia possesses a magical quality, allowing one to relive sensations and emotions, particularly when separated from one's homeland. Despite being a trader and having the opportunity to seek better business prospects elsewhere, the father chooses to settle in Cairo, Egypt. Yet, his deep attachment to Iran raises the question of why he does not choose to return. Nevertheless, he consistently instills a love for Iran in his son, nurturing a longing for home.

This sparks an assumption that perhaps the father's longing for Iran may be more related to a lost time rather than a physical space. His love for Iran could be directed toward his childhood or memories of his youth spent in the country. Since it is impossible to revisit the past in the same way one can revisit a physical location, he continually postpones his homecoming and may not have genuine intentions of returning. His strong emotional connection to Iran can be seen as reflective nostalgia, where he consistently experiences a yearning for his homeland. This brings up the query of whether his longing for Iran originates from his individual encounters in the nation or, paradoxically, is an idealistic creation formed by his own mix of poignant recollections. However, for this discussion, we will assume that Ibrāhīm's father is trapped in his nostalgia for a bygone era in Iran, forming the first of the four models of Iran that emerge throughout SIB.

In the narrative, Ibrāhīm is depicted as a young man who takes great pride in his love for Iran despite never having set foot in the country. However, this socalled "nationalism" is portrayed as a form of misguided and blind fanaticism. Unbeknownst to him, he is actually a victim of his father's captivity in his nostalgia for Iran. The narrator describes Ibrāhīm's obsession with Iran as something that cannot be adequately described or put into words:

*In any case, his fanatical Iranianness was of such a degree that the pen is incapable of writing about it in detail. For example, whenever someone unintentionally or unknowingly related something bad about Iran in his presence, he would label him with impiety and cowardliness to the point that until the end of his life he would not speak to him [1].*

Ibrāhīm not only inherits his father's fanaticism but also takes it to a more extreme level, leading to obsessive behaviors. He tends to label people as impious or coward and resorts to intense silent treatment, revealing the depth of his own captivity. The stories and experiences shared by his father about Iran have constructed an idealized and imaginary image of the nation, forming the second model of Iran in the travelogue. As a result, Ibrāhīm has created a monolog of love for Iran, rejecting any aspects that could tarnish its reputation and embracing anything positive about it. Unfortunately, his unwavering adoration for Iran becomes his greatest vulnerability, as others exploit it for their own gain.

Nostalgia is not always about the past [12], Ibrāhīm's confinement in his nostalgia for Iran despite never having been there, suggests that he is trapped in a restorative nostalgia, longing for a homecoming that is fueled by his father's determination. His intense sentiment has made his imagined Iran feel real to him, and despite warnings against traveling to Iran, he remains resolute in his decision to see it. The formation

of Ibrāhīm's nostalgia for Iran originates from his father's nostalgia for the past. As a result, an amorphous nostalgia is shaped, not belonging to a specific time period neither past, present, nor future. In summary, Ibrāhīm and his father's nostalgia for Iran are as follows: (**Figure 4**).

From another perspective, Ibrāhīm's imprisonment extends beyond his own version of an amorphous Iran to include his father's nostalgia as well. In reality, Ibrāhīm finds himself caught between the past and a nebulous vision of Iran, rendering him unable to perceive the truth and further entrenching him in his captivity.

Ibrāhīm's situation in the travelogue can be connected to Reinhart Keselleck's categorization, particularly in terms of the horizon of expectation and the space of experience [13]. While existing within the confines of an amorphous Iran, Ibrāhīm finds himself in a state of confusion between reality and his expectations. Prior to embarking on his journey, his expectations were disguised as reality, leaving him unaware of his imprisonment in nostalgia.

Upon Ibrāhīm's first encounter with Iran, he enters the actual space of experience, unveiling the present-day Iran as the third model of Iran within the narrative's timeline. A sense of ambivalence permeates the text as his expressions about Iran manifest in binary oppositions. Overwhelmed by the stark reality he witnesses, Ibrāhīm laments:

*My view of the world turned black from hearing about this happening. I let out a sigh from my pain-filled heart and said, "O God, these are all punishment for the arguments I unjustifiably had in Egypt with people about these subjects. Not believing what they said about these kinds of things, I quarreled with them and made them very upset [1].*

In this moment of realization, beneath his expressions of regret, Ibrāhīm is essentially confessing his own blindness. This marks the moment when he becomes aware of his captivity, causing a crack in the prison of nostalgia he had constructed. His monolithic love for Iran is shattered, giving way to a more nuanced understanding regarding his fanaticism. Ibrāhīm is left astonished as he had always assumed that

**Figure 4.** *Model 1 and model 2 of Iran in SIB.*

*The Captive Nations in Malay and Persian Travel Narratives DOI: http://dx.doi.org/10.5772/intechopen.112032*

**Figure 5.**

*Expectation versus experience in Siyāḥatnāmah-*ʾ*i Ibrāhīm Bayg.*

his expectations would align with the reality he experiences. However, the disparity between these two perceptions can be outlined as follows: (**Figure 5**).

Indeed, the disparity between the horizon of expectation and the space of experience becomes apparent, leading to a hostile tone in the text as Ibrāhīm visits presentday Iran. It is in this space of experience that he not only becomes aware of his own captivity but also begins to recognize the captivity of the nation. Through his direct experience of Iran, Ibrāhīm starts to perceive the truth and no longer avoids reality. His honest observations about Iran can be seen as his attempt to break free from the confines of his own nostalgia-induced captivity.

Despite the constant shocks and the growing awareness of Iran's critical captivity during the expedition, the frequency of ambivalence in the narration increases. Struggling to cope with the stress and burden, Ibrahim experiences numerous collapses, including physical sickness, depression, and a hint of madness. These regular breakdowns become obstacles in Ibrāhīm's attempt to escape from the grip of nostalgia-induced captivity. Even when it becomes evident that he has been suffering throughout his journey in Iran, he appears to be in denial about the harsh reality. In a dialog, he firmly expresses his unwavering opinion about Iran, showing his resistance to accepting the bitter truth.

*"It becomes apparent from the manner and words of what you say that you suffered very much from Iran," I said.*

*Ibrāhīm said, "God forbid that I should suffer from my beloved. 'I boast of love. When should I actually do it? My life is in a handful of soil from that blessed land. All the vexation harbored by my sad heart is from the heedlessness of the gardener. Otherwise, the garden is not at fault [1]."*

Ibrāhīm's declaration of unwavering love for Iran, presented in a poetic manner, creates a paradoxical effect within the narrative, especially considering the series of negative expressions about Iran and its people that dominate the text. This act of defending Iran introduces a subtle emergence of a new form of captivity. While Ibrāhīm initially succeeded in breaking free from the nostalgia prison house of the past and amorphous Iran through his captivity awareness, the various breakdowns, moments of denial, and hints of madness he experiences are interwoven, forming a new prison for him. Although he may not be aware of his own condition, this new captivity becomes apparent through the expressions of a side character:

*The owner of the house says, "No matter how much I knew about Ibrāhīm Bayg's fanaticism from a long time ago, I thought that after his journey to Iran and seeing all of those unpleasant things the fires of his fanaticism had cooled and subsided to a degree. But after observing this condition and hearing these details, I saw that, no, my suspicion had been wrong. On the contrary, his nationalist fanaticism had increased. So, I confirmed in my heart that this disposition of his was intrinsic, not accidental. 'Having been mauled by the lion, escape with your life.' In truth, my heart ached because of his cold sighs one after the other. I took pity. Weeping, he stood up, and I took him aside, kissed him on the head and face, and said, "Dear brother, may the blessing of patriotism be pleasing [1].*

The melancholic statement made by the house owner regarding Ibrāhīm provides an unexpected turn in the narrative, revealing the sense of defeat of a person who has been struggling to free himself from the chains of nostalgia. The description encompasses various elements, such as a disappointing condition, shattered expectations, heartache, cold sighs, weeping, consolation, and prayers, all of which collectively confirm Ibrāhīm's status as a rebounding captive.

Indeed, Ibrāhīm finds himself trapped once again, but this time in a different form of nostalgia prison. This occurs because he lacks the strength to confront the chronic state of the nation's captivity. As a result, the captive nation figuratively consumes Ibrāhīm, pulling him into his own imprisonment. This situation can be visualized as follows: (**Figure 6**).

The pie chart represents the four tiers of captivity that are interconnected with the captive nation. In contrast to KPA, SIB places Ibrāhīm in the lowest tier, portraying him as the most deeply affected victim of the nation's captivity. In this scenario, the nation's captivity plays a role in constructing Ibrāhīm's new prison house, which encompasses nostalgia for both the present Iran and the future Iran. This can be visualized as follows: (**Figure 7**).

**Figure 6.** *Tiered nation captivity in SIB.*

*The Captive Nations in Malay and Persian Travel Narratives DOI: http://dx.doi.org/10.5772/intechopen.112032*

**Figure 7.** *Model 3 and model 4 of Iran in SIB.*

Ibrāhīm's descent into the second prison of nostalgia brings about a more distressing captivity as it engulfs his soul and mind with depression and hopelessness. Unlike in the first prison, where he remains unaware of his captivity, in this second prison, he finds himself trapped between the present and future visions of Iran. This is evident in the contrasting criticisms and hopes he expresses about the country. Unfortunately, the intensity of his confinement takes a toll on Ibrāhīm, leading to a breakdown during a heated debate with a mullah. When accused of apostasy by the mullah, whom he believes is responsible for the nation's suffering, Ibrāhīm succumbs to madness, screaming uncontrollably, and foaming at the mouth. The tragic ending of SIB, with the tent consumed by fire ignited by a candle, symbolically suggests that Ibrāhīm is consumed by the captivity caused by the nation's imprisonment.

#### **7. Conclusion**

The critical remarks about the nation in SIB and KPA serve as a wake-up call, raising awareness about the nation's true condition. Despite being initially published anonymously, SIB later gained recognition for its importance in the country's revolution. In contrast, KPA, which was publicly published from the start, was perceived as propagandistic and detrimental to the nation's image. However, there is a lack of research on the potential influence of KPA on the political situation in Malaya. Nevertheless, KPA is highly regarded as a valuable work during the transition from classic to modern Malay literature, contributing significantly to the language and literary development of the nation. Thus, KPA can also be considered a revolutionary work in its own right.

Benedict Anderson's book *Imagined Communities* introduces the concept that patriotic works can encompass both positive and negative sentiments, which may initially seem contradictory. In his chapter on ""Patriotism patriotism and racism," Anderson argues that patriotism can be intertwined with antagonistic tones:

*In an age when it is so common for progressive, cosmopolitan intellectuals (particularly in Europe?) to insist on the near-pathological character of nationalism, its roots in fear and hatred of the other, and its affinities with racism, it is used to remind* 

*ourselves that nations inspire love, and often profoundly self-sacrificing love. The cultural product of nationalism—poetry, prose fiction, music, and plastic arts—show this love very clearly in thousands of different forms and styles. On the other hand, how truly rare it is to find analogous nationalist products expressing fear and loathing. Even in the case of colonized peoples, who have every reason to feel hatred for their imperialist rulers, it is astonishing how insignificant the element of hatred is in these expressions of national feeling [11].*

This perspective sheds light on the notion that despite the unfavorable ambiance depicted in KPA and SIB, the underlying theme of nationalism actively resonates within both narratives. Indeed, KPA and SIB can be seen as cultural products of nationalism for their respective countries, Malaya and Iran. Despite the differences in their expressions of love, both works reflect the sentiment of national identity and pride. They serve as literary representations of the nations' histories, struggles, and aspirations, contributing to the shaping and preservation of their cultural and national identities. Through their narratives, KPA and SIB evoke a sense of belonging and foster a collective consciousness among their readers, making them significant cultural artifacts in the context of nationalism.

### **Acknowledgments**

This research was funded by the Ministry of Higher Education (MOHE) Malaysia through the Fundamental Research Grant Scheme (FRGS) under the grant number: FRGS/1/2022/SSI10/UKM/03/1*.*

#### **Author details**

Firuz-Akhtar Lubis1 \* and Zaizul Abd Rahman2

1 Faculty of Islamic Studies, Research Centre for Arabic Language and Islamic Civilization (ArabIC), Universiti Kebangsaan Malaysia, Malaysia

2 Faculty of Islamic Studies, Research Centre for Theology and Philosophy & Institute of IR4.0, Universiti Kebangsaan Malaysia, Malaysia

\*Address all correspondence to: firuz@ukm.edu.my

© 2023 The Author(s). Licensee IntechOpen. This chapter is distributed under the terms of the Creative Commons Attribution License (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0), which permits unrestricted use, distribution, and reproduction in any medium, provided the original work is properly cited.

### **References**

[1] Zaynal Abidīn Marāghah-ī, The Travel Diary of Ibrāhīm Bayg, Trans. James D Clark. California: Mazda Publishers. 297 p

[2] Abdullah bin Abdul Kadir Munsyi. In: Sweeney A, editor. Karya Lengkap Abdullah bin Abdul Kadir Munsyi Jilid 1. Jakarta: Kepustakaan Populer Gramedia; 2005. pp. 61-80

[3] Krishnan S. Reading the Global. New York: Columbia University Press; 2007. pp. 96-98

[4] Skinner C. Transitional Malay literature: Part 1 Ahmad Rijaluddin and Munshi Abdullah. Bijdragen tot de taal-, land- en volkenkunde/Journal of the Humanities and Social Sciences of Southeast Asia. 1978;**134**(4):470

[5] Pārsīnizhād Ī. Rawshangarān-i ĪrānĪ va Naqd-i AdabĪ. Tihrān: Sukhan; 2001. pp. 187-189

[6] AryānPūr Y. Az Ṣabā tā Nīmā, Jild-i Avval. Tihrān: Chāpkhānah-ʾi Sipihr; 1978. p. 210

[7] Aloob AM. The Persian Social Novel from 1900 to 194 [Thesis]. Ann Arbor: The University of Michiga; 1988. p. 70

[8] Tornesello NL. The travel diary of Ibrāhīm Bayg by Zayn ol-'Abedin Maraghe'I by James Clark. Middle Eastern Literatures. 2014;**17**(2):215

[9] Abdullah bin Abdul Kadir Munshi. The Story of the Voyage of Abdullah Bin Abdul Kadir Munshi, Trans. A.E. Coope,. Singapore: The Malaya Publishing House Ltd; 1949. pp. 10-57

[10] Al-Hussayn IA, Ibn Al-Hajjāj M. The Book of Purification" [534] 1-(223) in

English Translation of Ṣaḥīḥ Muslim, Volume 1, Ed. Hafiz Abū Tāhir Zubair 'Alī Za'I, Trans. Nasir al-Dīn al-Khattāb. Riyadh: Darussalam; 2007. p. 354

[11] Anderson B. Imagined Communities: Reflections on the Origin and Spread of Nationalism. London: Verso; 1991. 224 p

[12] Boym S. The Future of Nostalgia. New York: Basic Books; 2001. p. 16

[13] Koselleck R, Past F. On the Semantics of Historical Time, Trans. Keith Tribe. New York: Columbia University Press; 2004. pp. 255-275

#### **Chapter 5**

## Regional Literature as Epicenter of the Cultural Heritage – Projections of Literary Tourism in Colombia

*Luis Rubén Pérez Pinzón*

#### **Abstract**

The literary work of Nobel Prize winner Gabriel García Marquez, associated with "magic realism" and the "Latin American boom," has fostered the management of urban tourist routes whose purpose is to reconstruct the spaces and events associated with his characters and memories in the Colombian Caribbean. The results of these efforts may be suitable for the promotion of literary tourism experiences based on the life and work of unknown local writers. The chapter describes the conceptions of literary tourism proposed from regional experiences, the original efforts of public publishers to promote the visit to Santander for recreating the personality and imaginaries about the Santanderean by the most recognized authors and the proposals in tours of literary tourism carried out by student-researchers when studying the life and literary work of the most representative literary authors of the Santanderean provinces. The research corresponds to the qualitative approach and the hermeneutic method, for which were contrasted the national and international scientific publications on literary tourism and the literary works that were created and published to exalt the Santanderean. Literary tourism is not a priority for cultural and touristic politics but is an alternative to strengthen literary creation and cultural identity.

**Keywords:** regional literature, cultural tourism, literary tourism, experiential literature, regional identity

#### **1. Introduction**

Literary tourism is a field of knowledge that integrates the search for places of creation, mention, or reference that are part of literary works, the lives of writers, or the places where they were created. In the case of Latin American literature, the literary works and the creative life of the writers have become a reference for travelers from other countries who wish to explore the spaces or inspiration of the spatial references or the cultural environments that influenced life and creation of the writers. A world reference is a tourism associated with literary places and film sets of literary creations such as "Harry Potter" or "Lord of the rings" [1].

The creation of tourist routes or tours that intertwine the author's living spaces and the fictional spaces of the characters through similar urban environments is part of the cultural tourism offered in English and French-speaking countries. Those experiences have gradually been adopted and adapted to the particularities of cultural promotion in Spanish-speaking countries, particularly in nations such as Argentina, Chile, or Mexico [2].

However, the academics and promoters of Latin American literature consider from the universities and training centers for creative writing that reducing literary creation to merchandise of external tourism is to ignore the importance and superior condition of literature over other cultural expressions. However, from emerging professions such as cultural tourism or heritage, others consider that the patrimonial articulation between life and literary work with the rediscovery of places and urban practices reiterate local identity, have promoted sociocultural recreation by internal tourists, motivated new generations to relate their vital spaces with places of creative inspiration, and especially, justify the conservation of the past. An example of this is the regional promotion of "Garcia-Marquiano tourism" in the Colombian Caribe, supported by creations of Gabriel García-Marquez (Gabo) [3].

Colombian literature was recognized and strengthened with the Nobel Prize for Literature obtained by Gabo in 1982, but his literary representation of the country only represents a Caribbean geographic region (the "costeños"). This vision does not recognize differences in the sociocultural diversity and the literary representations of other regions and subnational groups that have used literature to recreate their traditions, conflicts, practices, and the exaltation of their cultural landscapes [4].

Parallel to the literature of subregions associated with Antioquia, Cauca, Tolima, Orinoquia, Cundinamarca, or Boyacá. This chapter aims to describe the opportunities and projections of the regional literature as epicenter of the cultural tourism among the people associated with the territory and the gentilic from Santanderean [5]. In particular, the rescue of the creations of the most recognized writers in each province is to be disseminated through tourist tours among national and foreign visitors who arrive in Santander, and with them, contribute to reaffirm the creative diversity of Colombians in contrast with its natural and ethnic diversity.

#### **2. Literary tourism**

Between 2016 and 2020, a line of research in "literary tourism" was promoted in the professional program in Tourism of the Industrial University of Santander (UIS), through which they sought to strengthen efforts for regional cultural tourism. Visitors, along with adventure tourism or summer tourism, were expected to have an experience in the "heritage towns" that had been recognized and declared in the "monument cities" of El Socorro, Barichara and Girón, as from the colonial populations of its provincial environment. These efforts to reflect on the interrelationships between history, geography, heritage, literature, and tourism materialized in degree projects by tourism students, participation in presentations at international conferences, and articles published in indexed journals.

From the proposals in literary tourism that were promoted from Spain by Marta Magadán and Jesús Rivas until 2015, especially the references proposed in the book "Literary Tourism" of 2011 [6], the student researchers in tourism from the Industrial University of Santander (UIS) and literature students from the Autonomous University of Bucaramanga (UNAB) developed a regional proposal that interrelated the identity literature of "being Santanderean" with tourist routes and tours that

#### *Regional Literature as Epicenter of the Cultural Heritage – Projections of Literary Tourism… DOI: http://dx.doi.org/10.5772/intechopen.110818*

promoted urban heritage and traditions of the provincial cities, of which mention was made in the narrative works associated with Santander.

Some of the results obtained were published in the main geographical publication of the country, the "Cuadernos de Geografía" of the National University of Colombia, in that paper were raised the links between literary tourism, historical environments, and "Santandereanidad" when promoting representations narratives about the Santander territory by travelers as well as by tour guides [7]. Literary tourism was presented as an emerging field of human geography and cultural history through which it was possible to rediscover and reposition the most significant spaces of each territory through narrative representations about them. The construction of the imaginary of "Santandereanidad" was based on a vast literary tradition on the cultural stereotypes of "being Santanderean," as well as it had been related to the creation of new spaces of identity and collective recreation such as the Chicamocha National Park (Panachi).

The reflections raised in International Congresses on literary imaginaries and their tourist projections in Santander, organized by the University Externship of Colombia and the Magdalena University, motivated the research group to carry out fieldwork in the most emblematic place of literature (Macondo) and the Colombian literary tradition such as the population of Aracataca, where the memory of the Nobel Prize winner Gabriel García Márquez was born and immortalized. The reflection of this experience was disseminated through an article that analyzed the promotion of tourist-literary routes in the Caribbean from the case of Aracataca and the Macondo Route through the most important scientific publication in tourism in Colombia such as the magazine "Turismo y Sociedad" of the Externship University of Colombia [3].

The limitations and restrictions for the promotion of literary tourism in Santander demonstrated from the experience of the Macondo Route, on the contrary, the processes of consolidation and institutionalization of cultural tourism in the Colombian Caribbean, and in particular of literary tourism, when the effort was achieved comprehensive and articulated between public institutions interested in strengthening the tourist offer and private companies committed to heritage conservation and regional development of their communities. For which, the expressions, manifestations, and goods of the local cultural heritage were articulated in the reconstruction of the vital places and the spaces of inspiration that had inspired García Márquez to create the characters and environments of his stories and novels associated with magical realism in "Macondo." This fieldwork demonstrated the strengths, risks, and weaknesses of the consolidation of the Macondo Route by depending on the resources and initiatives of private businessmen, as nonexistence of a public policy for the conservation of urban and architectural heritage that could expand the reduced offer to house-museums [4].

These perspectives on literary tourism from the regional experience contracted with the national offers were developed in parallel in other cultural contexts, between nations with the same interests in expanding and growing their tourist offer. In the case of tourism research in Brazil, Thiago Allis and coauthors proposed reflecting on the relationship between tourism, literature, and the use of mobile technologies, for which they propose contrasting cultural heritage and affective computing as part of the paradigm associated with the turn of mobilities. The experience in literary tourism is understood as the confluence between the human body and the textual body through the mediation of the forms of literary access and the tourist transport of readers-travelers to places of cultural interest. Which are analyzed from the experiences and expressions of satisfaction from the contributions of affective computing [8].

Although some research has contributed to redesigning or strengthening literary tourism on traditional routes such as the "Don Quixote Route" in the Autonomous Community of Castilla-La Mancha, Spain [9], other publications have disclosed efforts to create routes for literary tourism in cities without global recognition such as Borrana in the Autonomous Community of Valencia, Spain. Monferrer, by proposing a literary route from a Mediterranean vision for the coastal city of Borriana, proposes an experiential design that articulates literary tourism with inclusive and sustainable tourism as it is a place without development as a mass tourist destination, especially by attracting tourists interested in destinations that relate literature, local landscapes, and gender or ecological sensitivity. One of the projections of the route is to use it in local schools as a didactic and informative product for visitors and natives, as well as it is proposed as a tourist product that roots local authors and authors, social awareness, and particular idiosyncrasy of the town [10].

Other destinations for "literary travelers" or from the offer of places of tourist interest for cultural travelers in recent years have been associated with the dissemination of literary routes in the Pyrenees to establish the profile of the literary tourist by contrasting the practices of the public-reader with the promotion of reading and cultural tourism offers for each territory [11]. The interest of the cultural offer in the destinations of greatest tourist interest as part of the recommended diversification to guarantee its sustainability, which is why in the case of Portugal, and specifically Lisbon associated with Fernando Pessoa, it is proposed to explore the scope of promoting the vital places of Portuguese writers by becoming unique assets, which are strengthened through the digital media that travelers have and the destinations most in demand by foreigners, which are associated from marketing with digital tourist itineraries [12].

The development opportunities for literary tourism in Portugal and its linkage to the creative and cultural industries have been increasingly and systematically analyzed in the case of the cities of Porto [13], Baiao [14], and Coimbra in the last decade, according to the reports of publications indexed through Scopus. Sousa and Pereira, when mentioned the category of creative literary tourism have considered the opportunities for its promotion based on a route about the writer Miguel Torga, who lived and died in Coimbra, because "Coimbra has good resources and sustainable products for a more or less specialized demand, with material and immaterial testimonies of the presence, over time, of various writers" [15].

Quinteiro and coauthors have proposed developing the literary tourism niche from Coimbra because the city needed to: "implement literary tourism activities articulated with cultural tourism products and experiences or other niches and types of tourism as a way of distributing tourist flows in a balanced way of moving around the city, combating the overload in the classified area and promoting the less visited/known areas of the city" [16]. The tourist diversification mediated with cultural and passive alternatives such as literary tourism led Quinteiro and coauthors to also develop a methodological proposal for the creation of the product and tourist route for Coimbra. For this purpose, they made a contextualization of Coimbra from cultural tourism and literary tourism in Portugal, realized an inventory of existing literary tourism products to articulate them with the biographies of the most representative writers, and finally, they analyzed the literary tourism potential of the city using: "a literary cartography of the city, which enables the development of the literary tourism niche in Coimbra" [17].

In the case of Latin America, and in particular Cuba's usual relationship with cruise, beach, and traditional artistic expression tourism, it has recently been proposed to diversify tourist itineraries mediated by the analysis of literary works that allow offering and attending to the needs of the contemporary expert tourist. Through reading and literary analysis, it is projected that the traveler knows the scenarios where the plots of the fiction of their favorite authors or works were developed, or failing that, the spaces related to the authors as is done in other cultural tourist destinations in the Caribbean [18].

#### **3. Literary tourism in Santander, Colombia**

Literature is a creation of individuality that affects and is significant for the community, but it is not possible for the "establishment" to impose the creative parameters of those who intend to transgress the literary order (whether as a rebel or a revolutionary), to innovate while remaining marginal and dissenting from fashions or cultural sectarianism. The writer of "modernity" finds it necessary to promote their exile from trivial discussions to face the new forms of domination, to rethink the livelihoods of tradition [19].

For the literary innovator, tradition implies the eternal return to the "golden ages" of the different arts and forms of being, as well as the promotion of rebellious actions for the rescue and restoration of the principles and values that laid the foundations of the civilization in which contemporary cultures are founded. Claiming the rescue of tradition, for example, the defense or condemnation of a "Santanderean literature," implies accepting that in this imaginary both innovative transgression and continuous resistance to change have coexisted. Rather than repeating what happened, promoting tradition leads to the recognition of the fragments of past reality that remain in the memory, which justify the actions and convictions of the present [19].

The writers who grow up immersed in a regional or national tradition and identity, and from which they emerge with products and expressions about universality, for universality, the received literary heritage to make it "flourish or bear fruit before transmitting it to future generations" [19] is not significant if whoever inherits it does not assume it as an expression conducive to renewal, rupture, and the full exercise of freedom. It is only possible to create new visions and stories when the scope and limitations of what is created and preserved as part of the literary tradition are known. It is necessary to have a referent of what is erroneous, suffocating, or normal to rebel and move away from its influence.

Along with the impact of the reconstruction of the national vision of "national territories" through "La Voragine" by José Eustasio Rivera in the first half of the twentieth century, the construction of imaginaries about Santandereanidad or Santanderean literature reveals that the rupture with all forms of national, republican and regenerative literature required transgressing the values and visions of a unilateral and dominant moral order. After 1910, interpretations, narrations, and fictions about immediate reality were published and promoted, appealing to dissimilar fragments about the same country from its natural regions.

Fragments that were inspired by the classic expressions of universal tradition: landscapes, traditions, memories, legendary heroes, human groups, and sociocultural practices that claimed the existence of fragmented homelands as part of an ethnic whole. Places of the same idealized homeland in the capital's cafes where malaria did not reach, the sterility of the soils, social exclusions, and the scarcity of everything gave their own meaning to daily existence.

The literary representation of each geocultural region is what has given identity (from multidiversity) to the Colombian nation. Along with the efforts of Santander and North Santander to differentiate themselves and at the same time build their own representations as "races" with a "tradition" that went back to the pre-Hispanic period, Tomás Carrasquilla from Antioquia warned the country's literati and writers that their "obligation as narrators was to deal with the region" [19].

Since then, the best examples of the national literature of the twentieth century have essentially been the promotion, affiliation, or defense of authors and works with the different regions of Colombia. To the reconstruction of the Amazonian world of J. Rivera, the eastern Andean world of Eduardo Caballero Calderón and Pedro Gómez Valderrama, the central Andes of Álvaro Mutis or R. H. Moreno, the western Andes of T. Carrasquilla, Efe Gómez, or H. Abad is added, the Pacific by Eustaquio Palacios and the indisputable representation of the Caribbean region in family memories and traditions reconstructed by G. García Márquez and D. Sánchez Juliao.

Regional literature also evidences the provincial origins of the human groups associated with each territorial identity resulting from the processes of geographic, administrative and sociopolitical isolation that had been configured during the colonial period, and even, it was usual that distancing was a practice of the indigenous in the prehispanic period. Thus, the construction of imaginary worlds in literature reflects the distant worlds represented or yearned for by each author, for example the Caribe with "Macondo" [19].

The literary representation of each geocultural region is what has given identity (from multidiversity) to the Colombian nation. Along with the efforts of Santander and North Santander to differentiate themselves and at the same time build their own representations as "races" with a "tradition" that went back to the pre-Hispanic period, Tomás Carrasquilla from Antioquia warned the country's literati and writers that their "obligation as narrators was to deal with the region" [19]. Since then, the best examples of national literature of the twentieth century have essentially been the promotion, affiliation, or defense of authors and works with the different regions of Colombia. To the reconstruction of the Amazonian world of J. Rivera, the eastern Andean world of Eduardo Caballero Calderón and Pedro Gómez Valderrama, the central Andes of Álvaro Mutis or R. H. Moreno, the western Andes of T. Carrasquilla, Efe Gómez, or H. Abad is added., the Pacific by Eustaquio Palacios and the indisputable representation of the Caribbean region in family memories and traditions reconstructed by G. García Márquez and D. Sánchez Juliao.

National literature has been founded on the multiplicity of views on each region, coinciding and reuniting the nation in the problems, dilemmas, and vicissitudes of its characters. Hence, for Montoya, there is a line of continuity between what Carrasquilla wrote and what García Márquez wrote, "between Yolombo and Macondo there are undeniable bridges and even characters who are almost brothers" [19].

Each region shapes and justifies the Nation, just as the local interweaves the idea of region. The existence of Santanderean regional literature [20] has been questioned as the best-known authors focus on characters, phenomena, or locations that are dissimilar to each other, without continuity in currents, styles, or territorial visions, a proportional problem raised by G. García Márquez when considering that in several centuries of Colombian literary history the nation had been disappointed by not founding and projecting a "tradition." For Montoya "there is no robust and universal work and there are only two or three hits" [19]. Paradoxically, his work on a fragment of the Caribbean regional world, colored by various forms of conflict and violence, ended up establishing itself as the sublime expression of the universality that characterized the Colombian nationality and the Latin America of the "Boom."

Contrary to G. García Márquez's esthetic notion of a tradition with sustained quality, what led to the condition of national literature, or the imaginary of Santanderean literature, has been the multicultural variations and affectations that give identity to

*Regional Literature as Epicenter of the Cultural Heritage – Projections of Literary Tourism… DOI: http://dx.doi.org/10.5772/intechopen.110818*

the language with which literature is communicated. And with it, to the representations, themes, or visions of the world that are projected through them regardless of the currents, genres, or fashions in which they are registered.

The nation, along with the region, are mental constructions that exceed any claim or requirement in their "esthetic quality." For Santanderean writers, the purpose of the writer is to be one but not to seem like a creator who assumes the puerile existential task of reflecting in his work the totality of a nationality. Before the interest in "ridiculous patriotisms and nostalgia for greatness that never took place" [19], what should really matter when thinking about literature from the spatiality of its themes or authors is its integrality.

The transposition of created space to creative spaces reiterates that literature is essentially a journey, "a way of doing tourism" [6], to remote places and times whose vestiges continue to impact our time as evidenced by the historical narrative of Victor Hugo or Leo Tolstoy. It also makes it possible to validate the complaints and setbacks that contemporary "civilized" beings may experience when traveling to the extremes of their "developing" world through the committed narrative of political activists such as José Saramago or Mario Vargas Llosa. And even, through "extraordinary journeys," the desired living conditions, progress, and comfort are envisioned, as has been the case in the science fiction literature of Jules Verne, J. Wells or I. Asimov.

#### **3.1 Literary editions**

Literature and symbolic spaces have been essential for the conformation and consolidation of the Nation projects of the States in formation as well as for the reaffirmation of the feelings of homeland and territorial identity. This has been the case of Santander, a fictitious territory and an imagined community created in 1857 when the political-administrative union of the provinces of Vélez, Socorro, Pamplona, Cúcuta, and Ocaña was established by force of law, which they had their own worldviews and sociocultural interrelationships [21]. The historical period during which a patriotic symbolism neither built (hymn, flag, shield, motto, etc.) nor was an identity literature of the territory published, except for some school manuals and stories about wars and civil conflicts that began or ended in their fields [22].

The members of the Corografic Commission (1850–1852), before the very existence of the sovereign State of Santander, established the first literary tourist circuit between these provinces by describing the socioeconomic relations that justified their integration as a single territory, as well as demonstrating the importance of reviewing and citing throughout their "pilgrimage" the literary texts that had described or recounted the colonial and republican conditions of those territories. Works among which stand out are the religious chronicles of Fray Pedro Simón, Basilio Vicente de Oviedo, and Juan Eloy Valenzuela, the reports of viceregal and republican officials, as the apologetic narrations of anonymous origin about the communal rebellion, the emancipatory revolution or the independence and liberating insurgency.

Manuel Ancízar's chorographic descriptions are still scientific and literary references to reaffirm the interprovincial ecotourism potential of the Colombian Andes, the gastronomic traditions and urban designs that attract cultural tourists, the creation and promotion of literary tourist routes based on the narratives and experiences of travelers in the mid-nineteenth century. And even, to rediscover the texts that with a book in hand, the foreign travelers M. Ancízar or A. Codazzi was reviewing upon their arrival and accommodation in each district or cantonal capital of the Provinces of Vélez and Socorro, in the extreme south of Santander.

With the fragmentation in 1910 of the old provinces of Pamplona, Cúcuta, and Ocaña to give rise to the Department of Norte de Santander, Santander's political, economic, and sociocultural elites assumed the challenge of creating discourses and symbolisms that would differentiate Santanderean from the south with those of the north, the Santanderean of the south chose to build their own history and sociocultural ethos, represented by the chronicles and historical literature of protagonists of those changes such as Simón Harker with his "Pages of Santanderean History" from 1933, which was followed by Juan de Dios Arias with his Santanderean history from 1947. Lately, the Santanderean of the north built their own identity inspired by the chronicles of the members of the Ferrero family and the pages of North Santanderean History by Luis Romero in 1970.

While the people of Southern Santander chose to build their identity from history and literature on their regional development and the characterization of the Santanderean ethos, the North Santanderean created and approved the use of national symbols such as an anthem (1932), a flag (1978) and a shield (1978) that allowed them to unify their imaginaries and differentiate themselves from the people of Santander and Táchira.

This type of symbolic imaginary about the nobility, strength, and values that exalted the "Santanderean race" was finally established and institutionalized in Santander as part of a regional nationalist project by a military hero elected as governor by promoting the alteration of symbols traditions such as the flag (1972) and the anthem (1988), adding a shield to the existing symbolic identity (2004), an educational project for the remoralization of Santanderean, a neonationalist ideology called "Santandereanity" [23]. And even, new spaces of cultural identity (monument to the "Santandereanidad") and tourism (Chicamocha National Park).

The recreations, representations, and experiences of the authors who assumed the task of creating and justifying the imaginary and feeling of Santandereanity through their literary texts, led to the memories of their readings of the landscape (Tomás Vargas Osorio), the idiosyncrasy (Joaquín Quijano Mantilla), the sociocultural ethos (Manuel Serrano Blanco), or the bipartisan spirit (Enrique Otero D'Acosta), were the foundations of the "literary tourist" interested in experiencing, exploring, and perceiving the fetish places sheltered in their imagination.

Those local readers and authors became regional visitors from the Santander provinces, who ventured to go after the memories of their readings, as memories of the best images. This fascination motivated many others to visit the birthplace of the authors, to perceive the sites that inspired their literary creations, and in some extraordinary cases, to rescue and build local literature about the future of their place of origin and that of their ancestors. The best examples of this are the voluminous literary production of prints, chronicles, and romances about Piedecuesta by Vicente Arenas Mantilla, Horacio Rodríguez Plata associated with El Socorro, childhood memories about Zapatoca and its legendary men in the narrative of Pedro Gómez Valderrama, and especially, the stories and fictions about Bucaramanga before and after the War of a Thousand Days (1899–1902) in the narrative of Enrique Otero D'Acosta and Joaquín Quijano Mantilla [22].

This historical experience justified the emergence and consolidation of a fourth tendency or modality of literary tourism such as that related to the publisher, the printer, or the bookseller by becoming the intermediary or mediator between the author and the reader. Along with the contributions of the author, the guide, and the teacher to literary tourism, the most experienced booksellers guide the reader about the life, anecdotes, impacts, etc., of the author and his work, as well as offering

#### *Regional Literature as Epicenter of the Cultural Heritage – Projections of Literary Tourism… DOI: http://dx.doi.org/10.5772/intechopen.110818*

other products that complement their literary experience in vital spaces, imagined or recreated through guides, maps or tourist trips designed toward strictly literary destinations and products. The bookstore or publishing house also tends to become an attraction for having been a place for the authors to visit or meet, or for hiding among the editions and versions of the same work that are waiting to be rediscovered.

Without the printing press, the publishing house, or the bookstore, the complicit relationship between author and reader would not be possible, it would not materialize. Hence, in Spain, every thirteenth of November the "day of the bookstores" is promoted as an alternative to search and explore other spaces of literary experiences and atmospheres. The spaces of literary intermediation have as much strength and relevance as the connection that is generated and promoted with the vital or creative spaces of the authors (personal legacies), the places of memory that are assumed to be real when the fictions of the narrative creator are convincing. (personified legacies), as well as for being in most cultural routes one of the stations or obligatory visits for tourist-literary itineraries (customizable legacies) [6].

Considering these formative and experiential perspectives from bookstores as well as from publishers, whose products are kept in libraries, museums, and archives in different places in Colombia, during 2015, the search, identification, and inventory of literary productions and editions that contributed to the construction of the imaginary of "Santandereanity" during the first half of the twentieth century. From the work of the teams of researchers in training from the research hotbeds integrated into a common collaborative project, it was possible to obtain as results of the narrative production preserved and disseminated in its first edition, a total of one hundred and thirty-five narrative and descriptive texts about Santander and its imagined region in the period between 1910 and 1960 [23].

This inventory made it possible to establish that 62% of these publications were printed and disseminated from Bucaramanga, highlighting the editorial role that the Departmental Printing Office of Santander played by becoming the main cultural and publishing industry of the twentieth century. This was demonstrated by being responsible for the production of 60% of the works registered in the Santander capital. From the perspective of the private publishing industry, the main company design and marketing of books of character and literary interest of a narrative nature in Santander was Casa Editorial La Cabaña.

This lithographic and typographic company established in 1905 and whose ventures in the book industry in the region were reflected in the production of 17% of the published and marketed works from Bucaramanga during the first half of the twentieth century, was strategically founded in the center of the city by Cristóbal Uribe Mantilla and preserved by the Uribe & Brother, society established by the successor brothers (Rafael: typographer, Benito: optometrist and watchmaker, Josefina and María: hat designers and merchandise merchants imported). Twenty years after positioning itself in the regional publishing market with products such as the "Almanac La Cabaña" from 1914, its existence was exalted in the Geography of Santander published by the Government of Santander.

The editors disclosed in the Geography by Margarita Díaz Otero that: "La Casa Editorial La Cabaña, the most important typographic company in Eastern Colombia. It was founded in Bucaramanga, in 1905, by Messrs. Uribe & Hermano. Its workshops are equipped with the most modern elements of typography, photoengraving, stereotyping, relief, trichomy, scratching, envelope manufacturing and a complete train of the offset procedure" [24]. Likewise, she considered that the publishing house was recognized as: "Santander's largest importer of paper and cardboard. In obituary

paper, correspondence, envelopes, greeting cards, visiting cards, mourning cards, menus, dances, and reminders, there is the most complete and brand-new assortment that has been imported to date" [24].

The publishing house located its printing, photoengraving, ficinography, trichome, and Altorelieve workshops in Carrera 10, under the direction of co-owner Rafael Uribe O., who had a "Diploma from the Bissell College of Photoengraving of EffinghanIII, and The United Typothetae of America from Indianapolis, Ind." Which guaranteed him to present the editorial workshops that he directed as: "The best in the Department for all kinds of jobs, modern machinery, art, correction and sharpness" [25]. Productive quality that allowed the Uribe brothers to proudly affirm that: "The House has repeatedly been awarded gold medals in different exhibitions, and is the publisher of "Tierra Nativa," a prestigious graphic magazine of high culture, inside and outside of the country" [24].

Other editorials from Bucaramanga recognized through each of the works analyzed were the publishing houses responsible for publishing the Vanguardia Liberal and El Frente (conservative) newspapers, the printers of Arturo Zapata, Francisco Páez, Marco Gómez, who in turn they constituted the printing press of Gómez y Páez. The editorial register associated with the Bucaramanga, Mercantile, Perfection, Renaissance, the Artistic Workshop, and even the Salesian printing press is also highlighted. It is worth noting that the importance of the editorial workshops of the Salesian community was reaffirmed with the publication of a text associated with Santander in the "Gráficas Salesianas" established in Mosquera (Cundinamarca).

Thus, in the mid-twentieth century, Bucaramanga had 16 publishing companies represented by registered firms such as La Cabaña; Luis F. Gamez; Gómez & Páez; Renaissance; Marco A. Gomez; Leopoldo Núñez Ortíz; Alarcon; Feetchacon; Minerva; Commercial; Phoenix; Central; Department Printing; Vanguardia Liberal Printing House (newspaper); Printing of El Deber (newspaper), and Printing of El Comunero (newspaper). Its commercial, institutional, or commissioned by the authors' products were disclosed and marketed by the following bookstores: J. V. Mogollón & Cía.; Will Bookstore S.A.; Ultra Bookstore; Santander Bookstore; San Francisco Bookstore; and Iris Bookstore.

The remaining 48% of bibliographic production was associated with publishers and printers in the country's capital (29%), other cities in Santander (3%) and distant places in Colombia, and even in other countries (Venezuela, Argentina, Spain) (6%). Some of the regional printers were Salazar (Barrancabermeja), Divino Niño (El Socorro), La Rotativa (Zapatoca), and the printing presses of the Pamplona Seminary.

The editorial production registered in Bogotá evidenced the trends, offers, and options that provincial authors had in the country's capital. Among the various narrative genres that were published, the interest in publishing in the Minerva publishing house stands out, which corresponds to 15% of the literary production of Santanderean from Bogotá, followed in proportional percentages by the A.B.C. (10%), Colombia or Colombian (10%), Cromos (8%), and Kelly (8%).

In a minimal proportion, the bibliographical production related to Santander is also recognized, mediated by the typographic workshops and the printing houses of the publishing houses: Antares, Argra, Fotograbado, Medardo Rivas, La Luz, Marconi, Santafé, Selecta, Stella, Voluntad, Colón, and Rojas typefaces. At the national level, the editorial presence of the Bank of the Republic, the National Printing Office, the Caro y Cuervo Institute, the Ministry of National Education, Editorial Publications, Floklore Magazine, and the National University of Colombia among others is also recognized. A trend of intervention and institutional cultural promotion in Santander was exemplified by the involvement of the Chamber of Commerce of Bucaramanga.

#### **3.2 Read and travel around Santander**

In the absence of agencies and tourist guides that attend to the concerns and searches for cultural attractions or scenic destinations when visiting the Santander provinces, the literary texts of the first half of the twentieth century, especially those of a narrative nature, became tourist guides through which was invited and still is invited: "the tourist to travel the novel fiction scenarios, in addition to serving as a travel guide" [6].

The narrative creations related to places, traditions, or convictions about a human group in the history of reading in the West have recurrently awakened in the reader: "the need or curiosity to want to verify the resemblance between reality and the description embodied in the book. Pushed by this interest, the reader can be motivated to visit the places that have been embodied in the works" [6].

The literary tourist requires only a novel and an inquisitive mind. The experiences that these visitors hope to obtain from a place of the imagination or recreated by fiction take place directly in the places associated with the events of the characters. Thus, promoting this new form of cultural tourism, the imbrication of fiction in the real world, and with it, the adaptation of real spaces to places of the imagination.

With each editorial success, a massive visit to the urban spaces where each story takes place is encouraged, and with it, the productive vocation of those cities and their areas of influence are resized. Successful examples are the reappraisal of the Vatican and Paris by D. Brown's conspiracy narrative, the esoteric routes associated with the "Potter map" created by J.K. Rowling's saga or the tracing of urban tracks inside Stockholm offered by the series "Millennium" by Stieg Larsson. In the Colombian case, the urban routes have followed the literary clues about the Medellín cartel and the hit men of the drug trafficking "capos" by reconstructing the places of memory associated with "Don Pablo" Escobar. Or, on the contrary, for the recreation of the streets and places that the doctor Héctor Abad Gómez visited before being killed by the death squads, according to the narrative reconstruction of the family of Hector Abad Faciolince, his son.

The book constitutes the beginning, middle, and end of literary tourism. The raison of being of the tourist products and services associated with the house-museums where great personalities were born, created, suffered, died, etc., is resized when the book renews the "ideas of culture" and heritage conservation that underlie those spaces. The extraordinary power of books and their authors by resizing places of memory reaffirms: "the social value of literary cultural heritage to promote its protection and encourage its use and enjoyment by visitors to a destination" [6].

Literature books are significant and traceable by readers as an expression of the convictions, imaginaries, and imaginations of an author and the community that recreates his works. They also contribute to the creation of fiction through their characters, settings, and narrative atmospheres, from which it has been possible to: reestablish the practices and habits associated with critical reading; increase the number of readers and texts read per year as indicators of human development; for the increase of the lexicon and the improvement of the communication skills evaluated and required to advance in the educational and productive sector, as well as to reaffirm the basic and minimum conditions of coexistence among humans that promote principles, rights, and inalienable conditions to guarantee their dignity.

The literature on places and people who act in accordance with their historicalpolitical or sociocultural project as an autonomous and sovereign nation allows compatriots from other states and hemispheres to reconstruct the places of memory universalized by the authors, as well as the recognition and reaffirmation of universal values of direct experience with the natives recreated in literary works. The search for authentic people in imagined or reconstructed places through authentic texts where beliefs, expressions, traditions, etc. are rescued or recreated, as well as allowing each visitor to recognize the relationship that exists between the authors of these texts with the places and the lives of the real people who embody them [26].

The literary tourist who follows the traces and clues of the narrated places to experience their iconic characters understands at the end of each trip, each "getaway," each route, that there is a universality of human themes and experiences (love, death, friendship, memory, etc.) that do not vary because of the language or civilization in which they are created; human practices and customs are communicated with words and languages that represent each culture. Which requires identifying and understanding in the texts as in everyday life each of the social codes and social conduct, and especially, the existence of cultural strategies that each human or national group uses to disclose its linguistic wealth as to represent themselves through literary or dominant genres [26].

In accordance with these referents, the literary representation of the Santanderean and their imaginaries of the Santandereanity have changed with each generation of authors and publishers. To the chronicles and "historical news" on the human and administrative origins of the New Granada provinces of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries of the friars, graduates, and learned men who arrived from Spain, the main criollos of the eighteenth century added narratives on the productivity of the people, the economic dynamics of their markets and taxes, as well as the raw materials and mining resources that would increase the wealth of each of these provinces. An example of these attractions for readers is the parish chronicles published as "Qualities and riches of the New Kingdom of Granada" by the priest Basilio Vicente de Oviedo from century eighteenth.

To the patriotic histories and catechisms promoted by the officials and publicists of the Republic of Colombia, conceived and administered by the Creole generals who defeated and expelled the armed forces of Fernando VII and his imperial officials, the New Granada businessmen who promoted the liberal reforms of the mid of the nineteenth century, they contracted the realization of geographical studies and the dissemination of municipal and provincial monographs. Stories of a nation under construction for which descriptive stories and chorographic tables with information of public interest were used, from which they built the first applied cartography and the first stories of a fragmented nation-state that were recognized from different provinces and cultural regions.

Examples of these publishing efforts were the "Physical and political Geography of the provinces of Nueva Granada" (1856) and the "Geographical and historical Atlas of the Republic of Colombia" (1865) based on reports, studies, measurements, observations, stories, etc., of the members of the Chorographic Commission directed by the Italian colonel Agustín Codazzi, according to the interests of liberal utilitarianism and the tendencies of military engineering.

The thematic, investigative, and editorial experience characterized by historical, political, geographical, economic, demographic descriptions, etc., and specific provincial or municipal monographs was replicated in the publications that were made on Santander over the following decades. Examples of these are the "Physical

#### *Regional Literature as Epicenter of the Cultural Heritage – Projections of Literary Tourism… DOI: http://dx.doi.org/10.5772/intechopen.110818*

and Political Geography of the State of Santander" (1863) by Felipe Pérez and the "Compendium of Special Geography of the Department of Santander put into verse for the use of Schools and Colleges" (1892) by Luis Felipe French (Pérez Pinzón, 2015a). Works of general interest that, when incorporated into the classroom, led to the writing and dissemination of books and manuals for school use by publishers created by bookstores or religious orders specialized in that market, such as ABC, Bedout, Stella, Voluntad, among others of great recognition [22].

These descriptive tendencies were altered when new genres and literary expressions emerged to represent Santander and Santanderean when their political-cultural territory was fragmented with the creation of the Department of Norte de Santander from 1910. Of the 135 literary works on Santander during the first half of the twentieth century, 37% correspond to geographical and chronic descriptions of the political-cultural origins of municipalities, provinces, and the entire jurisdiction of Santander. Two tourist guides were even produced belatedly in which the dominant discourses in the compendia of regional geographies and histories were synthesized.

Although each literary work did not have the original or main purpose of becoming a didactic reference or tourist guide for readers about places, attractions, landscapes, human groups, etc., it was unquestionable that: "a book that has not been written intentionally to encourage travel, it favors a better selection of interested visitors and also corresponds more closely to reality" [26].

Added to this rupture in the relationship between author, reader, book, and places of memory (recreated or fictional) were the transformations of Santanderean literature with the adoption of modernist literary movements and the promotion of other forms of narrative expression. The traditional agglomeration of monographic descriptions, pictures of customs, and memories about the great men and the founding events of the homeland as well as the nation that characterized the original experiences of Santanderean literary writers during the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries was overcome. The fragmentation of Santander in 1910 and the search for a territorial and sociocultural identity coincided with the adoption and development of new literary genres, in keeping with the movements and trends of the European avant-garde.

Of the 200 narratives that were published between 1910 and 1960 as part of the effort to establish Santanderean literature by Santanderean authors and publishers, the continuity of the New Grenade chronicling practices and geographical descriptions was dominant (37%), joining the genres promoted by the house's publishers and literary movements of the first half of the twentieth century. There was also a growing production of short stories about territories of cultural interest (7%), published mostly by the Departmental Printing Office, the massive production of novels and stories with a moralistic tendency about large urban centers (11%), promoted in a leading way and majority by the La Cabaña publishing house, as well as the dominant intellectual and literary production of essays about the "landscape," the "race," and the Santanderean "soul" among the most recognized authors in Santander led to a great discovery. This essay production corresponded to 14% and was promoted in a repetitive and dominant way by the Departmental Printing Office to disseminate the thoughts of the most illustrious men of each party when they came to power periodically.

The Santanderean writers thus assumed the task of rescuing, disseminating, and promoting the oral heritage of Santander and the values of the Santandereanity through "folk literature" that reaffirmed the symbols of the reason for being, in times when it was advocated for the protection of national memory (6%). They reaffirmed the importance of narrating the fictions, experiences, or founding events of

Santandereanidad through biographical narratives (16%) in which metanarratives prevailed over the proto men of independence and the great civil wars. And even a significant group of writers undertook the task of carrying out rigorous literary studies (6%) that reflected on popular expressions, narrative traditions, and theoretical trends that coexisted and were part of the cultural consumption of Santander readers as from the rest of Colombia.

The chronicler, biographer, and folklorist Juan de Dios Arias Ayala published two didactic texts whose purpose was to make the "History of Colombian literature: text according to the official program for the teaching of the subject in the 6th year of high school" (1947), complemented by for the "History of Colombian literature: for the 6th year of high school with an anthology and Hispanic American authors" (1950). An analytical perspective and improvement of literary work were promoted in a primitive way by Belisario Matos Hurtado in his "Compendium of the history of Colombian literature for the use of schools and higher schools of the republic" (1925). Texts in which the theoretical instructions were applied with the help of literary fragments allowed a better understanding and representation of the attributes of the "Santanderean race."

Gustavo Otero Muñoz broadened these analytical perspectives from the retrospective of what was published by disseminating widely used texts such as the "History of Colombian Literature [abstract]" (1935), "Colombian Semblances" (1938) and "History of universal literature: critical historical manual" (1942). Other intellectuals committed to the Santanderean cause assumed the task of studying and analyzing the production of other regional authors of national fame and recognition, such as the study by Pedro Gómez Valderrama entitled "Dark Night of the Soul (interpretation of the poetry of José Asunción Silva)" (1948), as well as the work of José Fulgencio Gutiérrez published as "Aurelio Martínez Mutis: (Critic study)" (1933).

The relationship that existed between man and landscape transcended the reason for being of history and particularly of "national/regional histories from an idealistic perspective of culture" [27]. Tomás Vargas appealed to the founding vision of the Santander territory (1910) as the regional literature that should give identity to it (1922), in contrast to the territory and cultural expressions of North Santander. His essays and stories invited us to explore and experience the particularities of the Santander territory and reaffirmed the importance of interpretations between the territory (the landscape), culture (the esthetics), and people (the race) from Santander. For this, in one of his first "Santanderean stories" entitled "The Santanderean landscape and man" Vargas expressed:

*The Santanderean is in his material life of an ascetic sobriety that contrasts with the superb luxury of his interior life. Perhaps there is no civilized and cultured human type that professes a deeper contempt for comfort: that everything be clean and coarse; On the other hand, when it comes to his spiritual life, his asceticism turns into an unsatisfied yearning for wealth and splendor that reaches, most of the time, to the refined voluptuousness of sybarites. The dry and poor land induces him to seek compensation in his inner life for what nature greedy denied him, and that is why in Santander culture is an authentic necessity, we could almost say that of a biological nature [28].*

#### **3.3 Routes for literary tourism from Santander, Colombia**

The international trends and the national publications on literary tourism mentioned in the previous subchapters have not influenced nor are they considered

#### *Regional Literature as Epicenter of the Cultural Heritage – Projections of Literary Tourism… DOI: http://dx.doi.org/10.5772/intechopen.110818*

relevant in the public policies or in the cultural tourism development proposals that have been recently disclosed in Colombia. Procolombia, the official agency for the international promotion of tourism and foreign trade of Colombia through the work "Cocreate, Connect, Conserving: Illustrated Manual for cultural tourism guides in Colombia" limited its vision in cultural tourism to minority tourism products in 2022 promoted during the last decade [29].

Cultural tourism is assumed as the offer to national and foreign visitors of routes associated with the practices and expressions of ethnic minorities, visits to national monuments, cultural biodiversity as a result of social life in spaces of natural biodiversity, diversity and originality of regional handicrafts and artisans, culinary practices and traditional foods, musical sounds and rhythms, and even religious expressions and rituals in each of the six cultural regions into which the country is divided. This trend has been reaffirmed in 2023 during the 42 Tourist Showcase of the Colombian Association of Travel and Tourism Agencies (Anato), the most important international tourism marketing fair in Latin America in which private tour operators and public institutions responsible for promoting culture, tourism, and sports offer products in accordance with the tourist particularities and subregional cultural marketing strategies.

In the case of Santander, recent interuniversity studies have been oriented toward the development and cultural promotion of emerging niches, such as gastronomic tourism associated with adventure tourism. Castellón and coauthors in the study entitled: "Tourist route: gastronomy, cultural identity, rural development in Santander and tourism policies in Colombia," published in 2022 by the University of Santander and the University of Boyacá, when reviewing trends in tourist companies in the subregion are unaware of the cultural potential of literary tourism. By establishing the tourism development models that they identified in the knowledge networks, they limit their search only to tourism: social, accessible or inclusive, sustainable, supportive, community, fair, and even virtual or digital tourism that managed to consolidate during the COVID-19 pandemic [30].

These studies and scenarios ignore or minimize the fact that in the western Andean, Pacific, and Caribbean subregions cultural-literary tourism is already part of the alternative offers for foreign tourists, at the same time that the review of potential undertakings from universities is ruled out. From the provinces of Santander or those located in the Bucaramanga Metropolitan Area have been done by professionals from different professions when carrying out their degree work [31]. Among these proposals are the investigations of the students of the professional undergraduate in Tourism, members of the Seedbed for Research in Alternative and Sustainable Tourism, who until 2020 made a review of the literary production of each province of Santander and designed a proposal for a tourist route as part of the of an internal research project financed by the Industrial University of Santander (UIS). To this end, Lina Martínez, Manuel Olarte, and Silvia Galindo articulated the life and literary work of the most representative authors of each province with the cultural reconstruction of their spaces and characters to recreate the environments of local memory where tourists could be guided., especially in its historic centers. These degree projects directed by the author of this chapter are summarized below by means of **Tables 1**–**3**.

Martínez reconstructed in 2019 the connections between buildings and places that are mentioned in the stories before, during, and after the battle of Palonegro in the surroundings of Bucaramanga during the War of a Thousand Days, based on the life and literary work of Enrique Otero D'Costa (1883–1964), academic historian and coffee businessman. For this purpose, she identified the places mentioned in


#### **Table 1.**

*The route in literary tourism based on the work of Enrique Otero D'Costa.*


#### **Table 2.**

*The route in literary tourism based on the work of Horacio Rodríguez Plata.*


#### **Table 3.**

*The route in literary tourism based on the work of Jesús Zarate Moreno.*

the author's works, connected the urban points through the most important streets, and carried out an urban reconstruction work that allowed him to propose a route that goes from the colonial town to the high neighborhoods during the urban expansion to the east, particularly in the neighborhood where Club de Soto and Club del Comercio led by their relatives originated (see **Table 1**). As the route is focused on the War of a Thousand Days, the tour concludes in the Palonegro battle museum, one of the sections of the route that has been proposed to read to visitors is a fragment of the story "Memento" in which Otero expresses: "In the late afternoon, we visited the cemetery. There wanders a weeping crowd that sloshes in the mud; the wind from the

#### *Regional Literature as Epicenter of the Cultural Heritage – Projections of Literary Tourism… DOI: http://dx.doi.org/10.5772/intechopen.110818*

moor blows icy! So, I raise a prayer to God and deposited a crown of everlasting on the lonely grave of the forgotten hero" [32].

Galindo designed in 2020 a tour proposal based on the life and work of Horacio Rodríguez Plata (1915–1987), cultural manager, director of the house museum and president of the Socorro History Center, based on a didactic proposal for a night tour, which was raised by the director of the seedbed as part of his degree work during one of the colloquiums on tourism held at the UIS in 2017. Rodríguez's work was focused on the great heroes and martyrs of the insurgency and the liberation of New Granada from Spain and on the migration of the Germans during the consolidation of El Socorro as the capital of the Sovereign State of Santander (see **Table 2**). The role of the Germans in the history of the central provinces of Santander is recreated during the tour by reading a fragment of their work that says: "Bavaria was born in El Socorro, around the year 1883, the partners were the Kopp brothers, who came from Frankfurt del Maine. In 1894 I was visiting the factory, which was in the north corner of the main square of Socorro. The Commoners had met in that house [1781] and the first patriotic meeting of independence [1810] had been held there" [33].

Olarte, based on the contrast between local tourist offers and collegiate artistic events, designed in 2020 a proposal for a tourist route based on the life and literary work of Jesús Zarate Moreno (1915–1967), lawyer and diplomat. To this end, he used the provincial stories about the daily life of the high mountain Santanderean, which motivated him to recall his experiences in his native Malaga, in particular, he focused his interest on the role and power of social deterrence that the local jail had (see **Table 3**). A place of power and terror from which one of the sections of the route recalls that: "The city surrounds the prison, as if it were nourished by it, and at the same time as if it were afraid of it. With its cement claws, the city has imprisoned the jail. Seen from here the prison seems like the navel of the small town" [34].

When comparing the three routes, it is evident the interest of literary authors as well as tourism professionals in highlighting the main square or park of each city where the route takes place, and on one of its sides the Catholic church that commemorates the Hispanic origins and the predominance that Catholicism has had in the Catholic provinces. To this are added other emblematic ones such as cemeteries, clubs, shops, and houses that served as jails, museums, or companies. Which reiterates the predominance of issues of social and historical interest typical of regional cultural tourism as established in our first publications on the interaction of tourism and literature [35].

#### **4. Conclusions**

Literary tourism associated with the imagination of traveling and experiencing each of the places of memory, imagination, and inspiration in real places through literary texts of a historical, anecdotal, fictional, or fantastic nature, has fostered the promotion of a new subsector of the international tourism industry. A trend of contemporary destinations and services whose vestiges can be traced back to the literary tradition promoted since 1910. In particular, when verified in first-edition literary works and historical narratives that were chosen as a specific research sample that 37% of the them corresponded to geographical and chronic descriptions of the political-cultural origins of municipalities, provinces, and the entire jurisdiction of the Department of Santander. Even belatedly, two tourist guides were produced in which the dominant cultural discourses in the compendiums of regional geographies

and histories were synthesized, through which the symbolic, territorial, cultural, historical, folkloric, and ideological differences between being North Santanderean and being from Santander were reaffirmed living reflection of the "Santanderean race."

The perspectives of historical study of the territory known since 1857 as Santander have changed with the fragmentations that have been made of it, especially with the creation of North of Santander in 1910. To which has been added the adoption of a development platform and regional competitiveness for the twenty-first century associated with the transformation of the existing cultural heritage into a national and international benchmark for tourism of a historical, literary, and reconstruction nature of the indigenous, Hispanic and republican communities that built the State and Nation project that characterize Colombia, based on strategies such as the "Network of Heritage Towns." One of the best examples of this has been the changing and growing narrative and historical representation that has been made about the movement of the Commoners of 1781 and the subsequent insurgent revolutions in the province of Socorro, supported by the colonial infrastructure as references for the creation and promotion of literary and historical routes associated with the uprising of the commons as a principle, archetype, and imaginary of the Santanderean "ethos."

Literary tourism is a contemporary manifestation of the material search for spaces and environments that have been significant in the construction of imaginaries and representations derived from literary texts read throughout life by residents, travelers, visitors, and tourists. In the case of the tourist geography of Colombia, and in particular, the tourist resizing that is intended to make the territory of Santander as a "land of adventure," the existence of a public policy on departmental tourism was evidenced, from the adoption of the identity project of "Santandereanity" since 2005. And with it, the consolidation of strategies in competitiveness that have allowed turning the consumption of cultural heritage into the best way to consolidate the imaginary of Santandereanidad.

From the perspective of Spanish routes in literary tourism as well as from the tourist potential of the stories of the travelers who explored and described the territory of Santander, the possibilities of resizing the notions and experiences of the regional landscape from the associated tourist and heritage approaches have been presented with the Santandereanity. Ideological creation of recent promotion that, from the results of the research carried out by comparing 200 literary works, makes it possible to show that since 1910 one of the first tasks of the intellectual and literary elites in the south of Santander was the construction of an imaginary about "Santandereanity" that differentiated them from the North Santanderean.

These narrative representations also make it possible to recognize the interest of authors born in Santander or descendants of Santanderean in building a literary tradition associable with "Santanderean literature" or "literature from Santander" as reflections and recreations on the landscape become a historical constant that It has become an imaginary from which the promotion of cultural projects of national and international interest has been justified, such as the Chicamocha National Park, as well as from the historic centers of heritage towns and places of Santander identity.

Literature and tourism, as they are mutually associated with the imagination of traveling and experiencing real places, each one of the places of memory, imagination, or inspiration communicated through literary texts of a historical, anecdotal, fictional, or fantastic nature, has fostered the development and promotion of a new subsector of the tourism industry, specifically cultural tourism mediated by the publishing industry and the mass media. The corroboration of these trends was achieved by contrasting the narrative production preserved and published in its first edition of a total of 135

#### *Regional Literature as Epicenter of the Cultural Heritage – Projections of Literary Tourism… DOI: http://dx.doi.org/10.5772/intechopen.110818*

narrative and descriptive texts about Santander and its recreated or imagined region in the period between 1910 and 1960, together with texts analytical and complementary to them, which would add up to a total of 200 references on the origins and literary references of Santandereanidad. Constituting a telling example of those efforts to exalt regional identity with a universal vision in its dissemination, the literary, essayistic, and monographic works of the La Cabaña Editorial House, along with the policy of the Santander Rulers of the first half of the twentieth century for exalting the best authors of "the Santander race" through the Departmental Printing Office.

The tourist interest that symbolic spaces of being and daily life of every Santanderean have had in the last decade, specifically the Chicamocha river and canyon, makes it possible to reaffirm that from literature every "landscape" symbolizes the "Santanderean soul" has had different representations narratives. The authors coincide with their works in highlighting the beauty of the landscape, the characteristics of the dry environment, and the hardships caused by its rugged topography. Relates that can be perpetuated through tourist routes from the high mountains that surround the canyon by recreating the provincial places in the stories and dramas of Jesús Zarate Moreno, the monumental spaces of the Commoner capital and its commercial connections with the river studied by Horacio Rodríguez Plata, the urban connections between the spaces of memory during the War of a Thousand Days recreated by Enrique Otero D'Costa, so as future routes about the transcultural effects of German immigration through family experiences and collective stories narrated by Pedro Gómez Valderrama, from the construction of the roads that crossed the canyon and the river that has given touristic identity to the Santanderean.

#### **Author details**

Luis Rubén Pérez Pinzón Industrial of Santander University (UIS), Bucaramanga, Colombia

\*Address all correspondence to: lrperezp@correo.uis.edu.co

© 2023 The Author(s). Licensee IntechOpen. This chapter is distributed under the terms of the Creative Commons Attribution License (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0), which permits unrestricted use, distribution, and reproduction in any medium, provided the original work is properly cited.

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#### **Chapter 6**

## Suspense and Unease in Patricia Highsmith's *Ripliad*

*Stefani Brusberg-Kiermeier*

#### **Abstract**

This chapter argues that Patricia Highsmith's most famous character can be regarded as a transatlantic and cross-class invention of the 1950s. The novels featuring Tom Ripley must also be placed in the context of the transnational literary developments of the crime novel and especially the suspense novel. The contribution focuses on the construction of suspense and suggests that the emotional state of unease plays a central role, mainly in the construction and presentation of the protagonist, but also in the impact of the novels on the readers. In contrast to research on the *Ripliad* so far, this contribution does neither adopt a psychoanalytical approach nor does it focus on emotions that are easily readable: it is routed in narrative theory, explores the subtle emotional state of unease, and thus contributes to affective narratology.

**Keywords:** Patricia Highsmith, Tom Ripley, *Ripliad*, narrative, transatlantic writing, emotions, suspense, unease, sympathy

#### **1. Introduction**

Patricia Highsmith (1921–1995) was a North-American writer who spent the greater part of her life in Europe and also set many of her novels in Europe. Her most famous literary invention is the criminal Tom Ripley, a character that mirrors the transatlantic career of his inventor. Highsmith's five novels that follow Tom Ripley's criminal career [1–5], written between 1955 and 1991 – the so-called *Ripliad* – attest to her life-long fascination with this character as well as to her continuing endeavours to push the boundaries of the conventions of the crime novel. At the same time, Tom Ripley's roots lie in the U.S.A. of the 1950s and its political and economic as well as literary traditions. My investigation, therefore, begins with a short look at the character as a transatlantic invention of the 1950s.

Interestingly, Highsmith wrote not only fiction but also literary criticism with a focus on the genres she published in so prolifically herself. In her analysis of key elements of her favoured genre, titled *Plotting and Writing Suspense Fiction* [6], Highsmith suggests that the recording of "emotional experiences" plays a vital role in the writing process and that suspense writers "must have some kind of sympathy and identification with criminals, or they would not become emotionally engrossed in books about them". Accordingly, most of her novels present main criminal characters whose emotions are minutely recorded. In order to understand Highsmith's

construction of emotions, it is necessary to first learn more about the interconnections between literature and emotions in general. Crime fiction is especially suited to investigate these interconnections, since its narrative structure is strongly based on a cognitive and emotional game with the reader. I suggest that the creation of suspense and its constant interaction with surprise are essential for the genre.

While currently the necessitation of strong, easily readable emotions is enhanced by contemporary visual culture and the ongoing self-representation of users of social media, I will turn to Highsmith's *Ripliad* to examine the representation of the more subtle emotional state of "unease" in a literary medium. Accordingly, I will argue that Highsmith achieves a peculiar presentation of the emotional experiences of her most famous protagonist by describing his individual processes of cognitive and emotional reactions in her very own literary language. At the same time, her construction of unease has a bearing on the suspense that she creates for the readers of her Ripley novels. Since the readers' emotional investment in the narrative and the protagonist plays a crucial role for the creation of suspense, it is necessary that Highsmith offers her readers possibilities to feel sympathy for her notorious murderer. I will therefore examine Ripley as a likeable criminal before the focus is directed to Highsmith's creation of unease.

In my discussion of Ripley's unease, I wish to illustrate the relationality and connectivity of this subtle emotion and its important function for the creation of suspense and argue that the suspenseful and emotionally charged moments Highsmith creates in her narratives might have an effect on the reader and might interact with the reader's mental and physical reality through sensory imagination. As a conclusion, I will return to the narrative features of suspense and look at the paradox of its resilience.

#### **2. Tom Ripley as a transatlantic invention of the 1950s**

Elizabeth A. Hatmaker and Christopher Breu have highlighted the central function that "the transnational dictates of the emerging global economy" in the 1950s play for Highsmith's construction of her notorious protagonist [7]. They have described Tom Ripley as "a perverse condensation or parody of the 'other-directed' company man so celebrated of high Fordism" and argued that Ripley "would seem to almost be an allegorical figuration of the Marshall Plan if he were not so routinely associated with consumption in contrast to investment and production".

In an era that becomes witness to mass production on such a large scale for the very first time, we find a number of crime novel heroes that see themselves confronted with the need to achieve "an upwardly mobile success" in order to avoid staying "a faceless working-class 'nobody'" [7]. The protagonists of Dorothy B. Hughes' *In a Lonely Place* (1947) and Cornell Woolrich's *Rendezvous in Black* (1948) might have been influential for Highsmith's conceptualisation of her hero-villain. As David Bordwell explains, she "kept away from domestic suspense and the woman-in-peril plot, but she didn't accept the conventions of hard-boiled storytelling either": Highsmith "took crime out of the shabby streets" and "thrust it back into the drawing room" [8]. Her hero-villains are mostly not professional crooks and generally operate from socially privileged locations.

In this context, it is also important to note that the narrative of the first Ripley novel is based on the plot device that the father of Dickie, shipping magnate Herbert Greenleaf, sends Tom Ripley to Europe. Herbert Greenleaf finances the trip, because

#### *Suspense and Unease in Patricia Highsmith's* Ripliad *DOI: http://dx.doi.org/10.5772/intechopen.112493*

he is (mistakenly) thinking that his son and Ripley are friends and hoping that Ripley might persuade his son to come back to the United States. Herbert Greenleaf's shipping business forms the basis for Dickie's care-free existence in Italy and for Ripley's ensuing affluence, especially after he has killed Dickie and forged his will. The continuing references to Herbert Greenleaf in the dialogues of the protagonists, in the references to Dickie's yacht, and in form of Ripley's correspondence with him keep reminding the readers of his success as a "self-made man". As I have argued elsewhere [9], this construction of masculinity can be linked to the Protestant movement of Muscular Christianity, which stems from 19th-century Britain. Interestingly, its ideals connect ethical with economic as well as biological ideas and express themselves in the wish to rise to power as a "self-made man". Such success stories already play a significant role in the industrial novel of the nineteenth century.

On the one hand, the creation of Tom Ripley must be situated in North America's mass production and consumer culture of the 1950s; on the other hand, the construction of masculinity in the novel and the homophobia that Ripley repeatedly encounters also need to be linked to them. Erving Goffman gives a helpful example with regard to the ideal of masculinity in the United States of America at the time he is writing his study on stigma in the early 1960s:

*For example, in an important sense there is only one complete unblushing male in America: a young, married, white, urban, northern, heterosexual Protestant father of college education, fully employed, of good complexion, weight and height and a recent record in sports. […]. Any male who fails to qualify in any of these ways is likely to view himself – during moments at least – as unworthy, incomplete and inferior […] [10].*

While Dickie Greenleaf represents such an "unblushing male" with regard to many of the aspects Goffman mentions, Ripley fulfils far fewer of these important prerequisites. It is, therefore, understandable for the reader that Ripley admires and envies Dickie and wishes to cross class boundaries to improve his lot. The educational projects that Ripley pursues throughout the *Ripliad* also attest to the ideals of the transatlantic jet set of the 1950s: "People are cultivated. They know Bach and Vivaldi, Cocteau and Kafka, Malraux and Proust" [8]. Accordingly, Bordwell argues, the crime novel "becomes the 'novel of manners'".

Moreover, the high living standards of North Americans during the 1950s placed U.S. citizens in a privileged position within the global community. Hatmaker and Breu have pointed to the important role that Ripley's status of being a North-American citizen plays in the interactions of the police with him: "This position of politicaleconomic privilege is indicated throughout the narrative by Tom's assumption that he will be treated more gingerly and respectfully by the police because of his status as an American" [7]. Indeed, Highsmith shows throughout the *Ripliad* that due to this bias, it is repeatedly made easier for Ripley to lie, get away with forged documents or to assume his disguises.

#### **3. Literature and emotions**

We neither read literature to gather data or information nor because we know that reading is a possibility to train our brains, but because we derive pleasure from reading fictitious texts, as Wolfgang Iser and others have shown. In her discussion of the "affective value of fiction", Vera Nünning suggests that narratological investigations

need to combine different approaches. Not only the author's motivation and process of writing should be taken into account, but at the same time "the nexus between the text and the reader" should be investigated with regard to "the presenting, thematising or alluding to emotions in the text on the one hand, and the evoking of the reader's emotions on the other" [11]. I will follow these hints by combining Highsmith's own literary criticism with an analysis of the presentation of emotions on the textual level and the generic peculiarities and narrative techniques that will very likely have an impact on the reader.

Bordwell refers to Highsmith's own critical writing, especially to her article "The Sense of Form", which appeared in *The Writer* in January 1948 [8]. In this article, Highsmith states that the pleasure the readers derive stands in connection to the form of the text – that it is "to feel form" – and that she does not differentiate between "professional" and "arty" writing (in [8]). With Bordwell, one can argue that she fulfilled this premise, since her writing combines popular thriller elements with "classic novelistic techniques of restricted viewpoint" [8]. At the same time, Highsmith's suggestion that to enjoy reading is "to feel form" can be combined with Roger Scruton's understanding of the emotions that are being produced while reading [12]. Scruton gives his article the title "Feeling Fictions" and thus indirectly takes up Highsmith's idea that literary form has an impact on emotional responses.

According to Scruton, imagination is the capacity to entertain thoughts without affirming or asserting them as we do in the real world: "Imagination, as I envisage it, is a response to the question 'What if …?'" [12]. While readers might have "gut reactions" Scruton doubts that "affective appraisals" precede "cognitive evaluation", as theorists like Jenefer Robinson have suggested [13]. Instead, Scruton argues that it is the reader's imagination that is "a cognitive capacity" in itself and that "works of fiction, which are explicitly directed to the imagination, are asking us to conjure up thoughts without asserting them as true". Accordingly, a literary text can serve as "a vehicle through which we rehearse various emotions, and by rehearsing acquire them" [12]. With regard to the reader's reactions to the suspenseful or surprising elements of crime fiction I would argue that the emotional responses might even acquire a physiological quality, so that I suggest to additionally speak of "sensory imagination".

Nünning suggests that emotions can have a narrative quality themselves and that the sequence-structures of emotions may resemble "narrative patterns" [11]. With regard to potential reactions of the readers Nünning mentions descriptions of facial expressions and body language of a character as well as their verbal exclamations, for instance, of surprise, joy or disappointment, as possible stimuli. For the understanding of Highsmith's representation of unease in the *Ripliad* in connection to her appropriation of suspense features, Nünning's hints at "linguistic and narrative devices", "formal features" and "the choice of words" as well as the "innovations of generic conventions" are especially helpful.

#### **4. Reading crime fiction: pleasure and unease**

"Sensation fiction" and the "thriller", for instance, are two genres that have been given their peculiar names in reference to the emotional states that are linked to their reception, that is the evocation of stark sensations or a feeling of being thrilled. David Glover attributes to thrillers a "direct impact upon the nervous systems of their readers" and describes a potential reaction as "a hyperventilated state of pleasurably anxious unknowing". In the description of an experience of "pleasurably anxious

#### *Suspense and Unease in Patricia Highsmith's* Ripliad *DOI: http://dx.doi.org/10.5772/intechopen.112493*

unknowing", Glover indirectly brings together the initial state of the reader's being "unknowing" with the cognitive processes of gathering plot details or arriving at insights whilst reading, which happens gradually and erratically and forms part of the enjoyment of the reading process [14]. He also juxtaposes the two conflicting emotional reactions – the pleasure and the anxiety – that can likewise be caused in consequence of the reading process of this literary genre.

I suggest that the genre of crime fiction is especially suitable to approach the interconnections of cognition and emotion because of its peculiar features and narrative structures that combine the representation of a social and moral transgression in the criminal act with a generally linear plot outline that invites the reader to search for clues or at least to follow a relatively clear arrangement of the events, usually before, during, and after the criminal action. Depending on the subgenre of detective or suspense fiction, respectively, the reader's reception process might be characterised by a stronger or a less strong engagement with the text in imaginative and emotional terms and accordingly might cause a variety of physiological reactions or "rehearsals", as Scruton would call them.

In order to describe current emotional states in Western societies, scholars tend to focus on strong sensations and clearly readable emotions. I propose the use of another term – "unease" – to enlarge the descriptive spectrum of emotional structures and in order to offer a more appropriate term for the understanding of predominant emotional frameworks in current Western cultures. With the term "dis-ease" Patrick Duggan has proposed a stronger form of the emotional state that I wish to describe with the term "unease". Duggan's "dis-ease" can be understood as a starker version of the state of "unease" with a more powerful physical impact: "an in-between space […] which creates anxiety, uncertainty and insecurity" and which derives from "exposure to a constant threat of being ripped from a state of normalcy" [15]. In contrast, unease is a milder emotional state of discomfort, uncertainty, and insecurity.

I would suggest that the term "unease" lends itself especially well to an analysis of crime fiction and is appropriate to describe the potential reader response to crime fiction as – in adaptation of Glover's description of the thriller reception above – a pleasurably uneasy unknowing. Accordingly, I wish to argue that the emotion of unease is central to the production and reception of the crime genre.

It is also fitting for an analysis of Highsmith's suspense novels because they excel in a simplicity and unaffectedness of language that can be described as unsensational. When Highsmith commented on Julian Symons' writing style, she praised it as "casual, unexciting prose which is still compelling reading simply because of its everydayness" [6], a praise that is likewise true for her own writing style. Bordwell describes Highsmith's language as "unfussy prose" which reminds him of Simenon's "flatness" as well as of "Hammett-like minimalism" [8] – an assessment that can again be interpreted to prove the transnational quality of her writing.

#### **5. From surprise to suspense:** *The Talented Mr. Ripley*

In contrast to the detective novel, the suspense novel neither needs a detective as a central figure who controls the question-and-answer game nor does it have to offer a catalogue of clearly constructed questions for the reader. Ulrich Suerbaum argues that the change from the riddle structure to the suspense structure can be regarded as a form of liberation [16]. The crime novel can – at least to a certain extent – dispense with the strict limitations of the detective novel and experiment with retardation and surprise.

In his study *Bloody Murder: From the Detective Story to the Crime Novel*, Julian Symons provides a helpful chart which lists the most important differences between the detective story and the crime novel [17]. He also makes a rough division between authors who continue to adhere to the puzzle structure, such as P. D. James and Ruth Rendell, and writers who have abandoned the puzzle element in their novels, such as Nicholas Freeling or Patricia Highsmith. Although both the detective novel and the suspense novel in general follow a more or less linear plotline, the most significant difference is that the detective story "is constructed backwards from this deception", while the crime novel "is constructed forwards from such a problem" [17]. The change that is of greatest significance for the discussion of suspense fiction is the shift from the important function that surprise plays in detective fiction to the central role of suspense for the genre that carries its name.

The so-called "Master of Suspense", Alfred Hitchcock, also differentiates between suspense and surprise (in [18]). The difference lies in the discrepancy of knowledge between the fictitious characters and the audience. According to Hitchcock, suspense is only possible if the audience has a surplus of information in comparison to the characters:

*In the usual form of suspense it is indispensable that the public be made perfectly aware of all the facts involved. Otherwise, there is no suspense […].*

*We are now having a very innocent little chat. Let us suppose that there is a bomb underneath this table between us. Nothing happens, and then all of a sudden, "Boom!" There is an explosion. The public is surprised, but prior to this surprise, it has seen an absolutely ordinary scene, of no special consequence. Now, let us take a suspense situation. The bomb is underneath the table and the public knows it, probably because they have seen the anarchist place it there. The public is aware the bomb is going to explode at one o'clock and there is a clock in the decor. The public can see that it is a quarter to one. In these conditions this same innocuous conversation becomes fascinating because the public is participating in the scene. The audience is longing to warn the characters on the screen […].*

*In the first case we have given the public fifteen seconds of surprise at the moment of the explosion. In the second we have provided them with fifteen minutes of suspense. The conclusion is that whenever possible the public must be informed [18].*

This description already illustrates that the cognitive and emotional investment of the audience can be extended with the help of suspense in comparison to the shorter effects of surprise. With regard to the crime novel this means that a surplus of information for the readers in comparison to the characters allows for a different form of a novel. A corresponding change of construction of the narrative – forwards from a problem – is made possible for the author, for example by exposing the murderer early on in the narrative. This structural device was introduced already by, among others, Francis Iles in *Malice Aforethought* (1931) and *Before the Fact* (1932). *Malice Aforethought* starts with the famous lines:

*It was not until several weeks after he had decided to murder his wife that Dr. Bickleigh took any active steps in the matter. Murder is a serious business. The slightest slip may be disastrous. Dr. Bickleigh had no intention of risking disaster [19].*

#### *Suspense and Unease in Patricia Highsmith's* Ripliad *DOI: http://dx.doi.org/10.5772/intechopen.112493*

From the very beginning of his novel, Iles familiarises the reader with the protagonist's situation and his motivations for murdering his wife and thus heightens the suspense element. The readers' imaginative investment is extended over a considerable period of the reading process, because they wonder how the murder will be carried out and whether Dr. Bickleigh will be caught.

Richard Austin Freeman's short story "The Case of Oscar Brodski" from 1912 is regarded as the first crime story that starts with the introduction of the murderer and then quickly follows with the execution of the murder. As Austin Freeman explains in his "Preface", the curiosity of his readership is not going to be concerned with the usual question of "Whodunit", but with the question: "How was the discovery achieved?" (in [20]) While the second part of the short story is accordingly dedicated to the detection of the crime, the first part, however, presents us "The Mechanism of Crime" and shows us how the motivation for the murder quickly arises and how the murder is then immediately carried out [20].

In her *Ripliad*, Highsmith combines elements of both Iles's and Austin Freeman's texts: similar to Iles's novels, the detection of the crime – that still takes up the greater part of Austin Freeman's story – fades into the background, while the protagonist's situation and his motivations for murder feature prominently now. At the same time, Highsmith's representation of Ripley's cognitive and emotional processes resemble Austin Freeman's descriptions of the thoughts and feelings of a murderer.

When one looks at the theoretical discussion of suspense, it becomes obvious that many scholars focus on the main characters and the significant roles that their features and tendencies in terms of morality play for the narrative. In addition, the outcomes of suspense thrillers seem to bear considerable scholarly weight, not only on their being described as such but also on their being used as demarcation points for the genre. Since Highsmith's murderer-hero always gets away with his evil deeds, the Ripley novels can be regarded as such demarcation points.

In his study of suspense films, *The Suspense Thriller: Films in the Shadow of Alfred Hitchcock*, Charles Derry regards the suspense thriller as an umbrella term for a variety of subgenres, which he tries to differentiate from each other [21]. In my opinion, Derry's findings on suspense films are illuminating and allow for insights into the features of subgenres. Moreover, by generally focusing on the narratives of the films, Derry also indicates that there must be narrative features that stand in direct relation to the genre and its subgenres. The subgenres that Derry suggests are the following: "*(1) the thriller of murderous passions, (2) the political thriller, (3) the thriller of acquired identity, (4) the psychotraumatic thriller, (5) the thriller of moral confrontation, and (6) the innocent-on-the-run thriller*" [21]. Which category a film is finally attributed to depends on the respective prominence that the narrative elements have.

When one transfers Derry's film subgenres directly onto narrative suspense fiction, one can state that, for example, Highsmith's first Ripley novel, *The Talented Mr. Ripley*, shows traces from different subgenres. There are for instance the triangular grouping in which two characters compete for the affection of a third one (Ripley, Marge, Dickie), psychological abuse which victimises the protagonist (by Ripley's Aunt Dottie) or the competition of protagonist and antagonist. However, most readers would probably consider the two murders and the identity theft as the most prominent suspense features of the novel and agree that *The Talented Mr. Ripley* might be described as a suspense novel of acquired identity.

It thus becomes obvious that there are clear narrative features that allow for a definite genre description of narratives, but that there is also the level of reception which opens up a great variety of generic associations. For instance, in the beginning of *The Talented Mr. Ripley*, Ripley is being followed – "There was no doubt the man was after him" [1] – which might lead some readers with generic knowledge to expect him to turn out to be an innocent man on the run.

In this context, I regard two findings as especially illuminating. The first one is Noël Carroll's insight that emotional responses "can evolve in reaction to whole narratives, or in response to discrete scenes or sequences within a larger narrative whose overall structure may or may not be suspenseful" [22]. In consequence, a Western movie, for example, with powerful suspenseful sequences does not turn into a suspense film but remains a Western. And the second one is William F. Brewer's differentiation between microstructure and macrostructure: "to keep up reader suspense one needs a number of 'mini' suspense and resolution episodes along the way, in addition to the macro suspense and resolution structure" [23].

Brewer's statement sounds, however, as if micro and macro structure can exist fairly independently, which must make for an unsatisfactory reading experience. In reference to Hitchcock's film *Psycho* McGowan makes clear that a close relation of both structures is important: "The initial surprise does not function as an end in itself but works to increase the power of the later suspense sequence" [24]. *The Talented Mr. Ripley*, for instance, shows a perfect interplay of micro and macro suspense structures: no mini suspense sequence stands for itself but serves to build up the macro suspense structure.

#### **6. Tom Ripley, the likeable criminal**

Similar to the detective novel, appearances are deceptive in the suspense novel. But while the detection of whose appearances are deceptive for which reasons forms part of the clue-puzzle, Highsmith informs us about her protagonist's deceptions throughout the *Ripliad*. Ripley takes over the detective's function to control the sequence of events and to influence the question-and-answer game. Ripley executes the crimes himself and does his best to hinder the detection process by erasing his traces. Thus, at times, he can be in charge of the complete "game" – as the title of the middle novel, *Ripley's Game,* so aptly illustrates. In contrast to the detective novel, the process of clue gathering does not have to play a central role (cf. [17]), and the knowledge distribution, therefore, functions differently. Whereas the secrets of the characters in a detective novel contribute to the surprise effects, in the *Ripliad* the readers become witnesses – or perhaps even imaginative accomplices – of Ripley's plans and deeds. The readers are provided with superior knowledge in comparison to uninformed characters, such as Ripley's future victims or police officials. Accordingly, the readers can, for instance, admire Ripley for his ingenuity or feel cleverer than the police. Thereby, the readers' investment is both extended and intensified – and of an emotional as well as intellectual nature.

According to Francois Truffaut suspense involves concern for a character and for how he or she will react to a threat that the audience already knows about [18]. Since a reader's investment in any story is clearly interlinked with concern for the main character, Highsmith argues:

*There are many kinds of suspense books—government spy stories, for instance—which do not depend on psychopathic or neurotic heroes like mine […]. I can only suggest giving the murderer-hero as many pleasant qualities as possible—generosity, kindness* 

*Suspense and Unease in Patricia Highsmith's* Ripliad *DOI: http://dx.doi.org/10.5772/intechopen.112493*

> *to some people, fondness for painting or music or cooking, for instance. These qualities can also be amusing in contrast to his criminal or homicidal traits [6].*

Unfortunately, because of the threat that a crime brings with it on the happiness or security of an important character, an astonishing number of scholars jump to the conclusion that suspense is in itself a moral concept. Carroll, for instance, repeatedly emphasises that the reader is interested in "what is morally right" and that the reader desires a "morally correct" or "morally righteous" outcome [22]. At least, in passing, Carroll grants that "the reader's or spectator's moral allegiances in response to a suspense fiction do not always precisely correlate with his or her normal repertory of moral responses and, indeed, the audience's moral responses are frequently shaped by fiction itself". Interestingly enough, Brewer states as one result of his empirical findings that "suspense can be produced when either good or bad characters are at risk" [23]. This clearly indicates that suspense can work as a "gimmick" independent of a character's morality.

An important prerequisite for the functioning of suspense in the *Ripliad* is the point of view that Highsmith decides on. Highsmith chooses a narrative perspective that is similar to Austin Freeman's choice: a third-person narrative with a personal, subjective point of view. Highsmith explains her decision as follows:

*The first-person singular is the most difficult form in which to write a novel; on this writers seem to be agreed, even if they agree on no other matter in regard to point of view. […]. I have quite a bit of introspection in my heroes, and to write all this in the first person makes them sound like nasty schemers, which of course they are, but they seem less so if some all-knowing author is telling what is going on in their heads [6].*

According to Suerbaum, the Ripley novels are exceptional because the murders are classical murders with intent; they are not being translated into a non-moral category or excused by a serious illness [16]. However, in her first Ripley novel, *The Talented Mr. Ripley*, Highsmith takes great care to establish a tragic background story for her protagonist. He is an orphan, whose parents drowned and who is raised by an aunt that repeatedly treats him cruelly:

*He thought suddenly of one summer day when he had been about twelve, when he had been on a cross-country trip with Aunt Dottie and a woman friend of hers, and they had got stuck in a bumper-to-bumper traffic jam somewhere. It had been a hot summer day, and Aunt Dottie had sent him out with the thermos to get some ice water at a filling station, and suddenly the traffic had started moving. He remembered running between huge, inching cars, always about to touch the door of Aunt Dottie's car and never being quite able to, because she had kept inching along as fast as she could go, not willing to wait for him a minute, and yelling, "Come on, come on, slowpoke!" out the window all the time [1].*

The reader is invited to connect Ripley's unhappy, loveless youth with his frustrations and cruelty. Highsmith mentions that already at the age of eight he has imagined running away from his aunt and "hitting her with his fists, flinging her to the ground and throttling her, and finally tearing the big brooch off her dress and stabbing her a million times in the throat with it" [1]. This makes obvious that, at least partly, his upbringing is to function as a sort of excuse for his sudden outbreaks of violence and general murderous tendencies.

At the beginning of the *Ripliad*, Ripley clearly suffers under his dire financial and social situation and under the fact that even as a young grown-up – because of his poor education and professional failures – he is still dependent on his aunt's financial support. This is made explicit in *Ripley under Ground*, when Highsmith explains that Ripley "had longed for leisure and a bit of luxury when he had met Dickie Greenleaf, and now that he had attained it, the charm had not palled" [2].

With regard to the sufferings in his youth, Highsmith creates another strong emotional moment in *The Talented Mr. Ripley* at the beginning of the sea voyage that takes him to Europe. As mentioned above, Dickie's father has financed the trip, because he is hoping that Ripley might persuade his son to come back to the United States. The new wealth that Ripley suddenly sees himself confronted with and the promise of a new existence full of ease and without financial worries is symbolised by the "bon voyage basket" that awaits him in his cabin:

*The basket had a tall handle and it was entirely under yellow cellophane—apples and pears and grapes and a couple of candy bars and several little bottles of liqueurs. Tom had never received a bon voyage basket. To him, they had always been something you saw in florists' windows for fantastic prices and laughed at. Now he found himself with tears in his eyes, and he put his face down in his hands suddenly and began to sob [1].*

I would suggest that this moment of conflicting emotions might also have an emotional effect on the reader. Although it is not clear whether the first "tears" are tears of joy or grief, the verb "to sob" indicates an unusually strong emotional reaction. The description that "he put his face down in his hands suddenly" moreover has a visual component and stirs up an image of despair, which stands in contrast to the common reaction to the reception of a present and accordingly opens up a variety of readings. The emotional outburst of the protagonist might accordingly arouse the reader's interest or even create feelings of pity for him. The readers might imagine themselves in a corresponding situation of conflicting feelings and feel with and for Ripley, thus using what I would call their "sensory imagination".

The readers' intellectual uncertainty and emotional unease in relation to the murderer-hero's upbringing and his crimes can be regarded as a trace of unease throughout the Ripley novels. Suerbaum makes an important point concerning Ripley's amorality: he argues that critics err in stating that he is an amoral hero, because his amorality is solely restricted to the murders. In other situations he acts like a moral person, for instance he feels pity for other characters or anger about injustice [16]. Suerbaum's finding is essential for the understanding of the intense and lasting impact of the *Ripliad*, since otherwise the long-time investment of such a huge readership would most probably not be possible. Ripley's peculiar morality is repeatedly made explicit, for instance in *Ripley under Ground*, when he feels pity for Mrs. Murchinson: "Tom felt sorry for her. He felt sorry that he had killed her husband" [2]. This novel is particularly interesting with regard to Ripley's ability to feel pity for female characters, for instance, when he muses about the transformations that the Derwatt forgings have brought about in his group of friends:

*He was thinking of the changes in Jeff, Ed, and now Bernard since the Derwatt fraud. And Cynthia had been made unhappy, the course of her life had been changed because of Derwatt Ltd.—and this seemed to Tom more important than the lives of the three men involved [2].*

*Suspense and Unease in Patricia Highsmith's* Ripliad *DOI: http://dx.doi.org/10.5772/intechopen.112493*

Interestingly, the protagonist's feelings of sympathy for other characters open up possibilities for the readers likewise to feel sympathy for Ripley. In consequence, the moral aspects of his personality contribute to the creation of suspense, since the reader becomes excited to see whether Ripley is able to come up with a solution to a particular problem and in the long run escape punishment (cf. [16]). In a traditional detective novel it is not necessary for the readership to feel sympathy for the murderer, because it might even work contrariwise and hinder the solution structure. The connectivity of the feeling of sympathy in the *Ripliad*, however, strengthens the impact of the suspense in general and heightens the intensity of unease in particular.

#### **7. Tom Ripley's unease**

With regard to the differences between the whodunit and suspense fiction, Hitchcock argues that detective fiction deals with the surprise element and not with suspense at all:

*To my way of thinking, mystery is seldom suspenseful. In a whodunit, for instance, there is no suspense, but a sort of intellectual puzzle. The whodunit generates the kind of curiosity that is void of emotion, and emotion is an essential ingredient of suspense [18].*

Hitchcock's emphasis on the important connection of suspense with emotions is significant for a discussion of the genre. Carroll describes suspense as "an emotional response to *narrative fictions*" (in [22]; his italics) and further states: "the emotion of suspense takes as its object moments leading up to the outcome about which we are uncertain". The most frequently mentioned emotional states that are to define what suspense might be are anxiety, fear or uncertainty. Other states that are mentioned, for example by Altan Loker, are apprehension, expectation, indecision, indetermination, and tension [25]. We can find examples for each and every of these states for the title figure in Highsmith's *Ripliad*, and the reader might experience corresponding feelings – but not necessarily so. Derry also grants that "what is thrilling to one spectator is not necessarily so to another" [21].

Symons has pointed out Highsmith's talent to furnish her protagonists with lively emotions: "[…] it is when she is treating criminal themes that she brings a particular characteristic intensity of feeling to the central figures" [17]. Thus her novels have obviously been successful in fulfilling her ambition to invest her own "felt experiences" into them:

*Even if a suspense book is entirely calculated, a product of the intellect, there will be scenes, descriptions of events—the sight of a dog being run over, a feeling of being followed in a dark street—which the writer has very likely known himself. The book is always better if there are first-hand and really felt experiences like these in it [6].*

In their study *Le Roman Policier*, Pierre Boileau and Thomas Narcejac suggest that a thriller creates fear and describe the genre as "le roman de la victime" (in [21]). Accordingly, the protagonist of a suspense narrative is not in control – a feature that Derry concludes is "virtually universal to the genre" [21]. In Highsmith's *Ripliad* the protagonist's fight for control is an omnipresent and important feature, either in connection with his crimes or the police enquiries. This corresponds with Highsmith's definition of the suspense story as "one in which the possibility of violent action, even death, is close all the time" [6]. In this context, another one of Highsmith's comments on her plotting and writing processes is especially illuminating. She explains that she discarded her earlier design of the first part of *The Talented Mr. Ripley*, which presented Ripley in a relaxed mood:

*In my bucolic mood, I started the book, and it seemed to be going very well. But on page seventy-five or so, I began to feel that my prose was as relaxed as I was, very nearly flaccid, and that a relaxed mood was not one for Mr. Ripley. I decided to scrap the pages and begin again, mentally as well as physically sitting on the edge of my chair, because that is the kind of young man Ripley is—a young man on the edge of his chair, if he is sitting down at all [6].*

The emotional state of "unease" appears to me to be the one that most closely corresponds to Highsmith's description of "sitting on the edge". Aurel Kolnai's writing on disgust consists of descriptions of emotional states that give an idea of my understanding of unease. For instance, Kolnai describes "uneasiness" as "hardly intentional at all" as well as "growing and rising" [26]. Similarly, his understanding of "free-floating fear or anxiety" in the following can be interpreted as a description of the functioning of unease:

*For what is alien and threatening can be so much more profoundly experienced when it is unknown and unidentifiable, when its nature can be only conjectured. Freefloating fear or anxiety of this kind is radically different from mere weariness of life or general malaise [26].*

The fact that the nature of unease can often only be conjectured is one reason why I regard the choice of this emotional state for an analysis of Highsmith's fiction so promising. Another reason for the suitability of "unease" as an exemplary emotion for an analysis of the *Ripliad* is the linguistic markedness of the lexical field of this emotional state. The use of the noun "fear" is fairly common, giving 14,482 overall hits in the *British National Corpus* (128.90 per million words) [27]. The use of the word "anxiety" is less common, but still relatively frequent, with 3093 overall hits (27.53 per million). The use of the noun "unease", in contrast, is very rare and has a frequency of only 408 hits (3.63 per million) in the *British National Corpus*. "Uneasy" as an adjective is more frequent with 923 overall hits, but it still only appears 8.22 per million words [27]. "Unease" and "uneasy" can therefore be described as strongly marked in a grammatical and lexical sense and therefore more likely to receive a listener's attention. I would argue that in a literary text, this increase of markedness is even greater, not only in a linguistic but also in an aesthetic sense.

Highsmith achieves a peculiar representation of the emotional experiences of her protagonist by developing her own lexicon. The reader becomes witness to this linguistic development, for instance, when Ripley finds himself short of words that describe his feelings. Narrator and protagonist are both eager to enlarge their lexicons of emotions, and the readers accordingly widen their understanding of emotional structures.

States of mind are often made apparent through indirect descriptions or even the negation of other emotions: "Well, well, Tom thought, realizing that his heart was beating faster than usual. Due to anger? Surprise? Not fear, Tom told himself" [5]. Highsmith has a particular preference for the use of "ease" in a negative form, such as in the idioms "not at ease" or "ill at ease", for instance in: "[Marge] was ill at ease with [Tom]" [1].

Interestingly, these descriptions can imply potential (anticipated) perceptions by other characters – who are either present or merely imaginary –, as in: "[…] he was trying to sound more at ease than he felt" [5], or in: "Tom felt suddenly ill-at-ease, as if eyes were on him" [3]. Here "ill-at-ease" is used as an adjective, corresponding to the use of "uneasy" in "to be uneasy" or "to feel uneasy". There are a number of examples of the use of "to be uneasy" throughout the *Ripliad*, which appear in a variety of contexts, for example: "And Tom was a little uneasy, because Bernard ought to know what was going on" [2], and: "Tom was uneasy, and he felt worse when he realised that his heart was beating rather fast" [2]. In the first Ripley novel, *The Talented Mr. Ripley*, when Ripley is not yet married to Heloise Plisson and his sexual orientation is not made explicit, Dickie Greenleaf's girlfriend Marge Sherwood is a constant source of irritation to him and the expressions "ill at ease" and "uneasy" are repeatedly linked to her or her actions, as in the example previously given and in: "Tom began to be uneasy about ten days after Marge's letter […]" [1].

"Uneasy" is also used in the form of the adverb "uneasily", particularly in connection with the art fraud: "Tom listened uneasily. He hadn't heard of Derwatt's attempted suicide" [2]. Similar to Marge's function as a source of unease in *The Talented Mr. Ripley*, Bernard's ex-girlfriend Cynthia Gradnor makes Ripley uncomfortable on various occasions in two different novels: "[Tom] glanced uneasily at Cynthia, who was leaning with folded arms against a cabinet across the room" [2]. The expression "to feel uneasy" is also used repeatedly by Highsmith, in its simplest form in *Ripley under Ground* to describe Ripley's emotional framework: "Tom felt uneasy" [2]. However, Highsmith also experiments with the expression, for instance by using it to describe an emotional process: "Tom began to feel uneasy. He tried to think ahead. What questions were coming next?" [5].

The expression "to make uneasy" is occasionally used to indicate a situation in which something makes the protagonist feel uncomfortable, such as in:

#### *The only thing that made him uneasy, and that was not very uneasy, was the possibility of Marge's coming up to see him in Rome before he could get settled in an apartment. [1].*

Highsmith's usage of the expression "to make uneasy" is especially illuminating because it generally indicates the interaction between two characters, for example, in *The Boy Who Followed Ripley*, in which a young American comes to France to make Ripley's acquaintance: "Frank had stood up, with his air of respect for Tom which made Tom a bit uneasy" [4]. In her final Ripley novel, Highsmith introduces the odd American married couple, the Pritchards, who attempt to beat Ripley at his own game and cause him to have many moments of unease. In light of their peculiarities, Ripley begins to regard himself as relatively normal: "Normal people, Tom thought, were made uneasy by seriously abnormal people" [5]. In the middle novel, *Ripley's Game*, it is Ripley who plagues a neighbour and plans to revenge himself on this neighbour in several ways, after he has been snubbed by him:

*But the business with Jonathan Trevanny was merely a game for Tom. He was not doing it for Reeves' gambling interests. […]. Tom had started the Trevanny game out of curiosity, and because Tom wanted to see if his own wild shot would find its mark, and make Jonathan Trevanny, who Tom sensed was priggish and self-righteous, uneasy for a time [3].*

In this example, Highsmith's use of the expression "to make uneasy" represents the starting point for a process of corruption that I will return to below.

Highsmith also uses the noun "uneasiness", for instance, in *The Boy Who Followed Ripley*. The young American, Frank Pierson, seeks Ripley out in France (under the name "Billy") and becomes both a mirror image of him and a son substitute. The relationship is characterised by feelings of uneasiness on both sides. Ripley perceives Frank's feelings, but suffers likewise from unease:

*Tom waited, noting the boy's uneasiness, the frown. Tom felt uneasy also, and deliberately pushed off his shoes and swung his feet up on the bed, pulled a pillow under his head [4].*

The moment Highsmith changes from the more frequent "uneasy" as an adjective to the use of "unease" as a noun she transforms the description of a state of mind into an actual state of mind: unease becomes a veritable emotion in its own right. And since the use of the noun "unease" is so rare, its usage in the novels is always strongly marked and especially helpful in describing emotionally charged situations. Unease ranges from a fairly mild state of discomfort – "Tom felt an unease akin to embarrassment on reading this" [4] – to a more pronounced feeling that can be rendered an even stronger impact by the use of an additional adjective: "There was a touch of the insane in his [Bernard's] dogmatic delivery of this, and Tom felt again a profound unease" [2]. However, similar to her experiment with the adjective "uneasy", Highsmith also uses "unease" to describe an emotional process: "Tom, more slowly than usual, felt an unease" [3].

In her final Ripley novel, Ripley's concern for the emotional well-being of his wife, Heloise, is constructed by Highsmith in the form of a sympathetic perception of unease:

*Tom arrived back at Belle Ombre to find Heloise standing in the living room. She had a restless air.*

*"Chéri—a telephone call", she said.*

*"From whom?" asked Tom, and felt an unpleasant start of fear.*

*"From a man—he said he was Deekie Graneleaf—in Washington—".*

*"Washington?" Tom was concerned about Heloise's unease. "Greenleaf—it's absurd, my sweet. A rotten joke".*

*She frowned. "But why—this choke?" Heloise's accent had come back in force. "Do you know?" [5]*

Usages of "uneasy", "unease" and "uneasiness" can also be found with regard to the perceptions and emotional frameworks of other characters, especially in *Ripley's Game*, because a number of chapters are narrated from the perspective of Ripley's victim, Jonathan Trevanny. The gradual emotional and moral corruption of Jonathan can be also be regarded as "an education in unease", because Jonathan learns to perceive when someone else is uneasy before developing feelings of unease himself. We first find Jonathan asking himself: "Why was the man uneasy, Jonathan wondered", before

#### *Suspense and Unease in Patricia Highsmith's* Ripliad *DOI: http://dx.doi.org/10.5772/intechopen.112493*

the narrator describes Jonathan's own uneasiness: "Jonathan listened uneasily, waiting for an opening in which he could say that he didn't care to take on another job" [3]. Such moments prove that Ripley's strategy to make Jonathan uneasy is successful.

During the course of the novel, Jonathan becomes "a specialist of unease" and witness to the potential of the emotion to be transferred onto others:

*He [Jonathan] realised that it wasn't Ripley's presence that had spoilt the evening, but Simone's reaction. And Simone's reaction had been caused, Jonathan knew also, by his own uneasiness at seeing Ripley [3].*

This uncanny potential for the spreading of unease becomes particularly clear in Ripley's process of corrupting Jonathan. However, once Jonathan has also become a murderer, Highsmith expresses their comradeship through their emotional interactions: One becomes a – what I propose to call – "barometer of unease" for the other: "Tom's unease was making him [Jonathan] uneasy, and as far as he had been able to find out Tom had no real reason to be so anxious" [3].

I would further suggest that a stronger linguistic markedness of an expression is likely to have a stronger emotional impact on the reader. Accordingly, I can barely imagine that the readers' sensory imagination can escape the emotional impact of instances of the diegetic spreading of unease – the contagious quality of unease in general and the corruption of Jonathan Trevanny by Ripley in particular.

#### **8. Conclusion: the resilience of suspense**

It has become clear that a cognitive and emotional investment in the Ripley novels and Highsmith's most famous protagonist is of vital importance for the reading process. Moreover, the creation of sympathy for the character is a significant aspect of the reception process. Highsmith's special style of writing and ways of description as well as the suspenseful and emotionally charged moments she creates certainly have an impact on the reader. In consequence, the suspense elements of the texts likewise function as traces that might have a disquieting effect on the reader in their own right, and that might be, at least in part, the reason why readers return to the *Ripliad*.

The phenomenon that so many readers return to Highsmith's Ripley novels can be connected to the problem which Carroll has called "the paradox of suspense": "audiences returning to fictions whose outcome they already know" and still experiencing suspense during a renewed reception process [22]. In conclusion, I would suggest that the resilience of suspense during repeated reception of the *Ripliad* is linked to the reader's investment in the plot and the main character. C.S. Lewis famously stated that "[w]e do not enjoy a story fully at the first reading. Not till the curiosity, the sheer narrative lust, has been given its sop and laid asleep, are we at leisure to savour the real beauties" (*On Stories* 103, quoted in [28]). Following Lewis, Paula Marantz Cohen argues that "[w]e may even feel more suspense in knowing more about them [the characters] and thus caring about them more". In addition, she argues, a familiarity with the plot may likewise intensify the experience of suspense, since the element of surprise loses its importance and surprise becomes "more like suspense". She even goes so far and suggests that "[s]tripping away surprise can produce suspense of a more profound sort" [28].

Numerous passages from the *Ripliad* have illustrated the evocation of suspense, the important function of sympathy, the potentially contagious nature of unease and even the corrupting forces that unease might have. Accordingly, it seems likely that the texts might even interact with the reader's mental and physical reality through sensory imagination. Intellectual uncertainty and – even more so – emotional unease may persist and transpire to be lasting, growing, and even spreading, and thus turn out to be contagious and corrupting.

### **Author details**

Stefani Brusberg-Kiermeier Department of English Language and Literature, Hildesheim University, Hildesheim, Germany

\*Address all correspondence to: brusberg@uni-hildesheim.de

© 2023 The Author(s). Licensee IntechOpen. This chapter is distributed under the terms of the Creative Commons Attribution License (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0), which permits unrestricted use, distribution, and reproduction in any medium, provided the original work is properly cited.

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[15] Duggan P. Unsettling the audience: Affective 'Disease' and the politics of fear and anxiety in contemporary performance. Key Words. 2017;**15**:40-54

[16] Ulrich S. Krimi. Eine Analyse der Gattung. Stuttgart: Reclam; 1984

[17] Symons J. Bloody Murder: From the Detective Story to the Crime Novel. 3rd rev. ed. New York: Warner Books; 1992

[18] Truffaut F. Hitchcock. Rev. ed. New York: Simon and Schuster; 1984

[19] Iles F. Malice Aforethought. London: Orion; 1999

[20] Austin Freeman R. The case of Oscar Brodski. In: Freeman RA, editor. The Singing Bone (The Adventures of Dr. Thorndyke). Milton Keynes: Lector House; 1912. pp. 1-33. Print on demand

[21] Derry C. The Suspense Thriller: Films in the Shadow of Alfred Hitchcock. Jefferson, NC: McFarland Classics; 1988

[22] Carroll N. The paradox of suspense. In: Vorderer P, Wulff HJ, Friedrichsen M, editors. Suspense: Conceptualizations, Theoretical Analyses, and Empirical Explorations. London, New York: Routledge; 1996. pp. 71-91

[23] Brewer WF. The nature of narrative suspense and the problem of rereading. In: Vorderer P, Wulff HJ, Friedrichsen M, editors. Suspense: Conceptualizations, Theoretical Analyses, and Empirical Explorations. London, New York: Routledge; 1996. pp. 107-127

[24] McGowan T. Hitchcock's ethics of suspense: Psychoanalysis and the devaluation of the object. In: Leitch T, Poague L, editors. A Companion to Alfred Hitchcock. Chichester: Wiley Blackwell; 2011. pp. 508-528

[25] Loker A. Film and Suspense. 2nd rev. and enlarged ed. Victorian, BC: Trafford; 2005

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[28] Cohen PM. Conceptual suspense in Hitchcock's films. In: Leitch T, Poague L, editors. A Companion to Alfred Hitchcock. Chichester: Wiley Blackwell; 2011. pp. 126-137

#### **Chapter 7**

## Trapped in between Duties and Desires: *The Mill on the Floss*

*Aycan Gökçek*

#### **Abstract**

This chapter is an examination of restrictions imposed upon Victorian women as well as limitations and inequalities that paralyze and imprison them on George Eliot's popular novel *The Mill on The Floss* with an emphasis on the protagonist Maggie Tulliver. Initially, background information on the author is presented, then the novel is handled from the perspective of woman question in the Victorian Era juxtaposing the circumstances provided to the male and female child in the Victorian era in which cleverness is regarded as a *trouble* rather than a virtue. The qualities of *New Woman* are also scrutinized with the protagonist Maggie. Pointing out the dilemma the protagonist experiences in between her duties and desires in a patriarchal society that limits women from educational, intellectual and social aspects allowing them no pleasure of life, this chapter reveals that Victorian Women were regarded as the *angels in the house* who need to be protected by men. To conclude, this chapter handles *The Mill on The Floss* as a critique of Victorian Society which suffocates women leaving them no space for pleasure, intellectuality and individuality and emphasizes that such a society is actually no good for both males and females.

**Keywords:** *The Mill on the Floss*, Victorian women, patriarchy, inequalities, woman question

#### **1. Introduction**

As Nancy Paxton has argued, the 1850s was a catastrophic decade in terms of the anxiety generated by the heated debates on gender, sexuality and marriage in the run-up to the passing of the 1857 Matrimonial Causes Act in England. During that time there were many Victorian Women English novelists *whose speeches and organizations and petitions yielded the slow but steady achievements- in education, careers, property rights, divorce laws, contraception – which made the nineteenth century the greatest period of female social progress in history* ([1], pp. 18–19). As an educated professional author with radical views on female education and property rights of women during marriage, George Eliot was one of those pioneering writers who supported feminist campaigns for reform. She even signed the petition drawn up by Barbara Leigh Smith which was called for the rights of married women to control their own property and earnings, but she was unable to commit herself wholeheartedly to the feminist cause ([2], pp. 87–88). Eliot took side with the ones who were powerful and exceeded the limits of the society to her opposing opinions and manners. Therefore, she was one

*Insurgent [women] who have indicted this unjust society* in Simone de Beauvoir's words ([3], p. 841). Since *it is literature, which until the media explosion in Britain in the 1970s, has provided the most accessible images of women*, Eliot used her talent in writing to reflect her opinions on the appropriate role of women in a society in which gender division run sharp and deep ([4], p. 2). She tried to raise an awareness of women's role and status and to disseminate her ideas through her literary works. The heroines she created were also with free spirit and powerful like her: She typically chooses for her heroine a young woman, like Maggie Tulliver of *The Mill on the Floss* or Dorothea Brooke of *Middlemarch*, with a powerful imagination and a yearning to be more than her society allows her to be ([5], p. 1336).

Although Eliot condemned women's social exclusion from education and lack of property rights in marriage, she used marriage as the central theme and principal concern for her heroines. On the other hand, she criticized women who were overly fond of property and power and used their husbands as a conduit for this ([2], pp. 87–88).

George Eliot is the author's pen name and her real name is Marian Evans. She used a pen name because of the discriminating attitudes of the society of the time towards the female authors ([5], p. 1334). Although Eliot experienced 30 years of a wider and more intellectual life than any English woman before her, she did not write any line in fiction or considered to becoming a novelist until 1856 as she recorded: *September 1856 made a new era in my life, for it was then I began to write Fiction* ([1], p. 46). The main reason behind this is that as a woman of wide intellectual powers, George Eliot was trapped in a patriarchal society and experienced the trauma of constrictions and exclusions for being a woman and as Susan Dee points out [6]:

*In The Mill on the Floss, George Eliot revisits her own predicament as a restricted, poorly-educated female child in a male-dominated culture. From the outset, however, Eliot's portrayal of the passionate, intelligent Maggie Tulliver is problematic: the heroine's struggle to construct and defend a sense of self is overcast by a dark certainty that familial and communal life cannot accommodate this small Medusa ([7], p. 391).*

As seen, *The Mill on the Floss* (1860) is an analysis of the restrictions imposed upon Victorian women and a critique of the limitations and inequalities that paralyze and imprison women. The novel is also considered to be the autobiography of the writer in many respects because some traces of Eliot's childhood memories and her closeness with her brother Isaac can be found in the novel:

*The novel expresses the author's own emotional and spiritual struggles in childhood, and the first section is actually dominated by the brother and sister relationship between Maggie and Tom (Marian Evans and her brother Isaac), making up what may be called the finest childhood in English fiction, for the infantile experience and its period lay the foundation for the positive emotions of adult life ([8], p. 201).*

The aim of this paper is to find out the discrepancies in the raising of male and female child in Victorian Society which allows no intellectual, social and individual space for women even from childhood onwards and eventually leading to their despair without any chance for experience of happiness in life. The paper shows that by dictating the roles on individual according to their gender and telling them what to do, Victorian Society causes grief not only to women, but also to men. To this end, the protagonist Maggie Tulliver is examined as a *New Woman* with references to the definition of the concept.

#### **2. Trapped in between duties and desires:** *The Mill on the Floss*

Maggie Tullliver, the protagonist of the novel, a disobedient young girl, who does not conform to the gender-related norms of the society is an early representative of *New Woman* which is a concept that came into existence with Industrial Revolution. The new business opportunities for women, search for alternatives for marriage and other social conditions had a role in the emergence of this this concept in patriarchal societies ([9], p. 324). After some reforms in politics and education, the artificial ideal of the *womanly woman* or *angle in the house* changed and in turn, the concept of the modern woman the *New Woman* was accepted ([10], p. 237). With the concept of *New Woman* which was proposed for the first time by Sarah Grand in 1894, many issues concerning marriage and family life were started to be questioned. As Barbara Caine points out in her work *English Feminism 1780–1980*, the concept of *New Woman* is a reaction against ideal Victorian Woman image and emphasizes the need for a more educated, self-confident and independent woman ([11], p. 135). In her article *The New Woman and the Old*, Sarah Grand puts forward the differences between *Old Woman* who represents traditional Victorian patriarchal values and *New Woman* who reacts against these traditions; calls for equality in education and demands men to be chaste just like women ([12], p. 675).

Maggie attempts to deny her sex by cutting of her hair because of preconceived notions her elders hold concerning the nature of women and their secondary status in society and is portrayed as a *New Woman* ([13], p. 34). Eliot represents Maggie different from traditional female characters because she is independent and has free spirit. Although Maggie desires for fully realized love and for the fulfillment of her yearnings for a wider life, the patriarchal society she lives in essentially compels her to maintain her ties with her family and with established social values. She vacillates between her desires and her anxiety about her duty towards her family because she must be prepared to give her them up completely if she chooses to minister her desires. Her yearning for love, knowledge and equality interact with the established values of the society, so she is forced to choose between individual independence and tradition ([13], pp. 35–36).

The society Maggie grows up is a patriarchal one. Her father Mr. Tulliver is a patriarch and her mother is a traditional submissive woman. Similarly, her brother Tom is a typical Victorian boy and her cousin Lucy Deane is a stereotyped ideal Victorian girl. The only exceptional female character is Maggie. Her childhood onwards, Maggie is not approved by the society due to her rebellious behaviors unlike her brother. As a typical *angel in the house*, Mrs. Tulliver tries to raise her daughter in line with the gender roles of the Victorian society, but Maggie resists. Similarly, Mr. Tulliver thinks that Maggie's cleverness will cause *trouble* because it has no value for a woman in patriarchal society. When they grow up, the situation does not change for Maggie and Tom. While Tom gets the approval of everyone around him as an educated Victorian man, Maggie is not appreciated because she does not behave according to the norms of the society by having some complicated relationships with Philip Wakem and Stephen Guest who is Lucy's suitor. She even becomes a *fallen woman* and an outsider in the eyes of the society because of having affair with men. Maggie gives Stephan up

to retain her position in the society and not to have break away completely her milieu ([13], pp. 35–36).

In *The Mill on the Floss*, male characters are represented as free, active, combatant, agents who deal with public and influential action while female characters are portrayed as passive, submissive and obedient individuals who are mainly concerned with domestic duties and trivial activities such as organizing parties, talking about material things, or gossiping. The novel also emphasizes that the actions of the males determine the fate of the women and children. For example, Tom tries to prevent his sister Maggie from establishing friendship with Philip Wakeem, the son of their father's enemy. He obstinately tries to shape his sister's fate and future life by banning her from acting freely and interfering with her relationships. Similarly, Mr. Tulliver's failure in business affair causes the downfall of the family.

The novel shows that female characters consider their passive and restricted lives as something natural. They perform their domestic duties without any objection to the restrictions imposed by the society. For instance, Bessy Tulliver only focuses on her duties as a wife and a mother and she is concerned with domestic things and remains indifferent to the public activities. This shows that the society silences women in such a way that they are conditioned to accept whatever is ordered to them without any contradiction. For instance, during her conversation with her husband's sister Mrs. Moss on Mr. Tulliver's legal struggle with Mr. Wakeem, Mrs. Tulliver says, *I never contradict him; I only say - well, Mr. Tulliver, do as you like; but whatever you do, do not go to law* ([7], p. 10). This shows that as a woman who was trained only for domestic duties, Bessy Tulliver has no suggestion to help her husband and she blindly approves whatever her husband does, which turns out to be wrong because Mr. Tulliver's actions cause the downfall of his family. After Mr. Tulliver loses the lawsuit against Lawyer Wakeem, she does nothing but complain helplessly: *We're ruined … everything is going to be sold up … to think as your father should ha' married me to bring me to this! We've got nothing … we shall be beggars …, we must go to the workhouse* ([7], p. 13).

Lucy Dean, the niece of Mrs. Tulliver, is another traditional female character who is portrayed as an *angel in the house, a domestic princess*. From childhood onwards, she is portrayed as the opposite of Maggie. As a girl trained in accordance with the traditional Victorian values, Lucy is depicted as an ideal obedient, tame, kind, unselfish, neat, forgiving and proper traditional Victorian lady. She is considered to be the best wife a middle-class man could want, potentially a good mother with whole hearted and sincere attitudes. She is publicly considered normal and natural because she behaves in accordance with the norms of the Victorian society, while Maggie is considered abnormal and outsider because she resists and questions social norms. For these reasons, she is always compared with Maggie and praised by those who are the supporters of patriarchy especially by Mrs. Tulliver and Tom who tells Maggie *I like Lucy better than you: I wish Lucy was my sister* ([7], p. 107). At the end of the novel, she is rewarded with marriage with Stephan.

Tom Tulliver is the son of Mr. Tulliver. He overtakes the role of masculine power over female characters. As a patriarch, he believes that he has a right to give direction to Maggie's life and decisions, and to make a decision for her. He does not abstain from prohibiting her actions which he believes to be wrong especially her relationship with Philip Wakem whom Maggie praises for his cleverness and interest in reading: *He was very fond of his sister, and meant always to take care of her, make her his housekeeper, and punish her when she did wrong* ([7], p. 50). This shows that man act as a master who has a word in the life of female relatives in the name of protecting woman because

#### *Trapped in between Duties and Desires:* The Mill on the Floss *DOI: http://dx.doi.org/10.5772/intechopen.111923*

in patriarchal society, it is believed that a woman always needs to be protected by men. That is why he has a restrictive attitude towards Maggie's friendship with Philip Wakem*: Mind you never speak to Philip again* ([7], p. 50). After Mr. Tulliver's death Tom becomes more prohibitive in his instructions to Maggie about her affair with Philip because becomes the new and only master of the family:

*You know what my feeling on that subject, Maggie. There is no need for my repeating anything I said a year ago. While my father was living, I felt bound to use the utmost power over you, to prevent you from disgracing him as well as yourself, and all of us. But now I must leave you to your own choice. You wish to be independent - you told me so after my father's death. My opinion is not changed. If you think of Philip Wakem as a lover again, you must give me up ([7], p. 476).*

As a patriarch, Tom admits that he used the utmost power over (Maggie) to prevent her from seeing Philip. He acts as a master towards Maggie not only in this issue, but also in other issues as well. For instance, when Maggie attempts to give him some money when his rabbits die, Tom rejects her severely: *I've got a great deal more money than you, because I'm a boy. I always have half-sovereign for my Christmas boxes, because I shall be a man, and you only a girl* ([7], p. 45).Tom's insulting attitude is also seen in his treatment to his cousin Lucy. For instance, in a discussion about her, he says: *What do I care about Lucy? She's only a girl; she cannot play at bandy* ([7], p. 57). He sees Lucy inferior to him, because she cannot do the things that a boy can do. As seen with the character Tom, Eliot criticizes Victorian Society which regards women inferior just because they are only a girl, the other sex.

Eliot uses Tom as a mirror to reflect Victorian society's attitude and point of view towards a woman while she uses the protagonist Maggie Tullliver to represent new woman. She finds other female characters' way of life useless and invalid because their views of life bring about submission, obedience and restraint in life and so *she had been blamed all her life* ([7], p. 19). She has a rebellious nature and opposing manners that reject all types of roles dictating obedience. As an unusual woman, she has no interest in the activities traditional Victorian girls do. She is opposed to the social norms of the patriarchal society, refuses to do what her mother dictates her to do such as doing patchwork: *I do not want to do my patchwork* ([7], p. 19) *because she thinks it as foolish work* ([7], p. 19). Instead, she reads; she has read, even as a little girl, Defoe, Jeremy Taylor, and Bunyan. She even attempts to deny her sex by cutting off her hair because of the preconceived notions her elders. Due to her disobedience, her mother Bessy Tulliver gets angry with her. Unlike other girls, she has no concern for beauty. She throws *her bonnet off very carelessly, and coming in with her hair rough a***s** *well as out of curly* ([7], p. 76). She is foregrounded not with beauty but intelligence. Her father is aware of her intelligence which he sees as something bad because of her sex. He expresses his anxiety about Maggie's intelligence which he believes *turn to trouble: She understands what one's talking about so as never was. And you should hear her read-straight off, as if she knowed it all beforehand. And allays at her book! But it's bad it's bad," he added "a woman's no business wi' being so clever; it'll turn to trouble, l doubt* ([7], p. 23).

Eliot shows that an intelligent woman is not encouraged and praised even by her father; contrary, her intelligence is seen as a trouble because a woman is not expected to be intelligent in patriarchal societies. To some extent, Mr. Tulliver is right because her intelligence causes her isolation throughout the novel. She lives in a society which does not allow any freedom to woman. She tries to escape from tedious way of life

other female characters live and decides to live with the gypsies. As the narrator puts it, *Maggie tries to run away from the house in which she feels lonesome and accepted as rude and coarse* ([7], p. 132). At the gypsy camp, when the gypsies ask her where she came from she replies: *I'm come from home because I'm unhappy, and I mean to be a gipsy. I'll live with you if you like, and I can teach you a great many things* ([7], p. 133). Her response shows that she tries to find the happiness she could not find at home and seeks a kind of solace with the gypsies who represent freedom. However, she is disappointed because she does not feel herself belong to gypsies who *did not seem to mind her at all, and she felt quite weak among them* ([7], p. 135). She feels alienated because the gypsies are not interested in reading unlike Maggie and disappointed because what the gypsies need is not an intellectual queen, but bread and better living conditions. Thus, she returns home.

Since Maggie's view of life is different from the view of all traditional women in the novel, she is constantly criticized by them as she complains to Tom: *I think all women are crosser than men. Aunt Glegg's a great crosser than uncle Glegg, and mother scolds me more than father does* ([7], p. 179). She expresses that she does not want to be a traditional submissive woman like her mother and her aunts when she grows up. *When Tom says well, you'll be a woman someday, so you needn't talk* ([7], p. 179), she replies *But I shall be a clever woman* ([7], p. 179). Unlike traditional women, Maggie tries to find happiness in reading: *If she could have had all Scott's novels and all Byron's poems, then perhaps she might have found happiness enough to dull her sensibility to her actual life* ([7], p. 291).

As a *clever woman,* education was very important for Maggie. Eliot makes it clear that gender roles limit women strictly and prevent their independence by depriving them from the education provided to men as seen in the case of Maggie and Tom who are not provided with equal education opportunities because of their genders. From the beginning, Mr. Tulliver tries to choose the best education for Tom. His main concern is to provide his son with an appropriate education that would give him assistance in his future manly activities. He expresses his opinion to his wife Bessy: *What I want is to give Tom a good education, an education as it'll be a bread to him […] But I should like Tom to be a bit of a scholar, so as he might be up to the tricks o' these fellows as talk fine and write with a flourish. It 'ud be a help to me wi' these lawsuits, and arbitrations and things* ([7], p. 13).

As seen, education is a way to gain a respectful place in the society and to make a living for Mr. Tulliver. He desires good education for his son so that he would assist him in living under comfortable conditions and would help him to bring bread since man was considered to undertake the role of Mr. Tulliver in future He wants to train Tom perfectly so as to give him assistance in his future struggles with his rivals in a combative world. He wants his son to become more competent and powerful with a good training in performing his manly duties, and thus protecting his family from the dangers of the outside world. Mr. Tulliver believes that the more educated he is, the better he could perform his duties dedicated to him by the patriarchal society. As a man who has difficulty in dealing with legal issues, Mr. Tulliver wants *Tom to be a bit of a scholars so as he might be up to the tricks o 'these fellows as talk fine and write with a flourish. It 'ud be a help to me wi' these lawsuits, and arbitration, and things* ([7], p. 13). Mr. Riley, a friend of Mr. Tulliver, approves and supports Mr. Tulliver's ideas on education. He says that, *there's no greater advantage you can give him than a good education. Not 'he added, with polite significance - 'not that a man cannot be an excellent miller and farmer, and a shrewd sensible fellow into the bargain, without much help from the school master* ([7], p. 22). As seen, they both believe that education is the greatest

*Trapped in between Duties and Desires:* The Mill on the Floss *DOI: http://dx.doi.org/10.5772/intechopen.111923*

fortune a father can give to his son. On the other hand, since the society does not impose such responsibilities to her daughter Maggie, a nine-year-old girl, Mr. Tulliver has no concern for her education although she is more studious than Tom. Girls are trained only for domestic duties and housework by their mother because it is believed that since they will eventually marry, there is no need to educate them as reflected in Mr. Rilley's ideas: *Better spend extra hundred or two on your son's education, than leave it him in your will. I know I should have tried to do so by a son of mine if I'd had one, though, God knows, I have not you ready money to play with Tulliver; and I have a house full of daughters into the bargain* ([7], p. 27).

Mr. Riley advises Mr. Tulliver not to refrain from spending money for Tom's education. Mr. Riley is out of sorts because of a household of daughters into the bargain, which he sees as a disadvantage because a household of daughters is the most unwanted and disadvantageous condition for him. The advice Mr. Rilley gives to Mr. Tulliver shows the male point of view towards women. With this attitude of Mr. Rilley, the author criticizes the society that sees daughters as a matter of bargain.

Mr. Tulliver and Mr. Rilley are not the only males who believe that education is the right of gentlemen. As a patriarch, Tom is also of the same opinion. For instance, when Maggie attempts to help Tom in Euclid, he replies *I should like to see you doing one of my lesson* ([7], p. 177), and he is sure that she cannot understand these courses since *Girls never learn such things. They're too silly* ([7], p. 177). According to Tom, girls must keep away from manly activities such as education because they are not taught to do so. Therefore, the male characters' idea that education is the right of men is a representation of a generalized view of men about woman in the Victorian society. Because of this view, although Mr. Tulliver is aware that his son is not as cute as Maggie, he gives much more chance to his son and frankly expresses his annoyance to Tom's slowness in learning:

*Well, he is not not to say stupid, he's got a notion o' things out o' door, an 'a sort o' common sense… But he's slow with his tongue, you see, and he reads but poorly, and cannot abide the books, and spells ail wrong, you never hear him cry 'cute things like the little wench. Now, what I want is to send him to a school where they 'II make him a bit nimble with his tongue and his pen ([7], p. 27).*

With the character Tom, Eliot criticizes the society that imposes duties on sons regardless of their capacities. Although *Tom has not got the right sort o' brains for a smart fellow. I doubt he's a bit slowish* ([7], p. 17), he has to accept the duties imposed upon him by the society because he is a man. He is not even pleased with the privilege of having education and complains about the difficulties in learning. For instance, he begs his father to talk to Mr. Stelling not to give him those difficult courses, because *It brings on the toothache, I think* ([7], p. 176). Similarly, when he is asked what Euclid is, he is not able to give proper answers as if he were trying to prove that he was not appropriate for that sort of education: *Oh, J don 't know: it's definitions, and axioms, and triangles, and things. It's a book I've got to learn in - there is no sense in it* ([7], p. 177). He has to receive the education because it was the boy's duty dictated on him by the society even if he does not want to do so.

Tom grows to be a dutiful person who devotes his life to pay his father's debts and to take revenge of Mr. Wakem who causes his father's bankruptcy. In order to take the responsibility of his family, he leaves school and enters into the world of business. Due to the responsibility the society imposes on him for being a boy, Tom struggles to present himself as a strong and mature man with the responsibility of his mother

and sister. Tom, who lives according to the expectations of the society throughout his life and gives up his happiness for the sake of his duty, is not content with his life. He wants to be appreciated by his environment and is afraid to be humiliated in the eyes of the society. Thus, with the character Tom, the author criticizes the society which makes people shape their personality according to its expectations and shows that men suffer as much as women due to the society, its values and rules.

Maggie loves Tom despite his *slowishnes*s and all of his imperfections, and she is insistent in taking care of him and assisting him in his manly duties. She is determined to help her brother whenever he needs her assistance. She is determined to be with Tom when he needs an intellectual assistance. Whenever her brother's intelligence is questioned, she defends him and says, *Tom is not stupid, but he is only 'not fond of reading'* ([7], p. 40), *but Tom's clever* ([7], p. 40). The novel makes it clear that if Maggie had been treated in the same manner with Tom, she would have been probably more successful than him since she is cleverer. *She [Maggie] had only been to school a year at St. Ogg's, and had so few books that she sometimes read the dictionary* ([7], p. 137). Like other women in patriarchal society, Maggie is aware of the inequality and yearning for knowledge and thought to be inferior to learn. The author points out this fact by making Maggie ask Tom's teacher Mr. Stelling *Couldn't I do Euclid, and all Tom's lessons, if you were to teach me instead of him?* ([7], p. 137). Actually, this is the question directed to the patriarchal society. As the voice of the patriarchal society, Maggie's question is replied by Tom who replies: *No, you could not … Girls cannot do Euclid: can they, sir?* ([7], p. 183). Mr. Stelling supports Tom with his comment on female intelligence by saying women have *a great deal of superficial cleverness; but they could not go far into anything* ([7], p. 184). As seen, deprived of education, Maggie is made to feel weak and inferior and internalize the *dreadful destiny* Simon De Beauvoir defines in her book titled *The Second Sex* as *it is destiny imposed on her by her teachers and by her society* ([3], p. 341). With Maggie's situation, the author calls for a proper education for girls. As Rosemary Ashton argues, Eliot implies that *the proper education of women would benefit men (who fear it) as well as women, since it would make women fitter companions for men* ([7], p. 94) Maggie's call receiving the education Tom takes sets forth her difference from traditional women who cannot think of such a demand.

Despite her intelligence, Maggie is obliged by her father's bankruptcy1 to leave school and stay at home with her mother and her sick ruined father. Even in the time of bankruptcy, Maggie does not hesitate to express her opinions about the wrongs of the people around her. For instance, when the Dodson sisters, who attach importance to materialistic benefits rather than kinship and the feelings of compassion, refuse to help Maggie and Tom financially after bankruptcy, Maggie rebels against her aunts' insensitive attitudes:

*Why do you come, then, she burst out, talking and interfering with us and scolding us if you do not mean to do anything to help my poor mother-your own sister- if you have no feeling for her when she's in trouble, and will not part with anything, though* 

<sup>1</sup> In the third book entitled Downfall concerned with Mr. Tulliver's bankruptcy, the author points out the deficiency of legal property of married woman. Since in the Victorian period, married women's belongings such as jewelry, furniture and all belongings are under the control of their husbands, they could not assert any legal rights on their own belongings, the Mrs. Tulliver could not do anything when her belongings such as "silver tea pot" were sold in the auction.

*you would never miss it, to save her from pain? Keep away from us then and do not come to find fault with my father ([7], p. 218).*

Maggie does not remain silent against the accusations of Dodson sisters and attempts to assert herself, but the society does not approve her freedom of speech and criticizes Maggie. Tom condemns her violent acts and warns her: *You ought not to have spoken as you did to my uncles and aunts; you should have leave it to me to take care of my mother and you and not put yourself forward* ([7], p. 237). Once again, Maggie is overwhelmed by the gender inequality which is imposed by the society. The society makes her incapable of acting against the people who humiliate her.

As seen, Maggie is a rebellious individual who reacts against all of the rules and values imposed upon her as the woman's natural duties does not hesitate to express her opinions freely. Her unconventional qualities differentiate her from other females in the novel. Despite her rebellious nature, Maggie is a tender woman who feels that life without love has no meaning: *And if life had no love in it, what else was there for Maggie?* ([7], p. 238) As she grows up, Maggie gradually tries to live in accordance with the expectations of the society by giving up all pleasures that make her happy and repressing her desire for freedom. One day, Maggie comes across with Philip. Although this encounter pleases Maggie, she refrains from continuing to see him because she thinks it is wrong to lead a life as she did in her childhood and tries to act in line with the norms of the society. Philip wants Maggie to reveal her feelings and emotions as she did in her childhood, but he cannot convince her. However, Maggie cannot stop seeing Philip, because of her desire to love and to be loved, but she loves him like a brother. She has never fallen in love with him. For Maggie, Philip is the only one who understands her feelings and nurtures her craving for learning. She loves him like a brother. She loves talking about books and music with Philip. She admires his intelligence.

Stephan, fiancée of her cousin Lucy, is another person with whom Maggie is emotionally attached to. Although Maggie tries not to fall in love with Stephen by keeping herself away from him, she does so. One day, they have a boat trip in which both of them unconsciously leave themselves to joy of life and the boat goes further and they cannot come back on time. Their short-time innocent joy is described as destructive in the Victorian period. Even if they did not have a sexual intercourse, by being with a man in a boat the whole day, Maggie has violated a social canon although it is Stephen who takes Maggie for a boat and forces her into inevitable results. Their being late was regarded as an elopement in the eyes of the society. Aware of the accusations of the society to the innocent Maggie and as a man who falls in love with Maggie, Stephan tries to convince Maggie to marry him. Despite the fact that she is also attracted to him, Maggie rejects his proposal thinking that their marriage will cause others' unhappiness risking to be viewed as a *fallen woman* in the eyes of the society. When she returns to the mill, she is rejected by her brother who accuses Maggie for disgracing the family and St.Ogg community and becomes a *fallen woman* who eloped with her cousin's lover intentionally in eyes of the society. Tom acts according to Victorian expectations by rejecting her sister who becomes a *fallen woman* in the eyes of the society. He does not empathize with Maggie because he has never allowed himself to experience the pleasure of life like Maggie did. He lived his whole life in the line with the social norms and devoted himself to his duties, which makes him blind to understand Maggie's situation. If he had listened to Maggie without judging her, he would have understood that she sacrificed herself for the sake of happiness of others by rejecting Stephan's proposal.

### **3. Conclusion**

To conclude, *The Mill on the Floss* shows that although women try to escape from the norms of the society by rebelling against them, they cannot escape from the teaching of the society they live in completely. Despite Maggie's rebellious nature, she sacrifices both her happiness and her life for the sake of others to live according to the expectations of the society. The novel shows that neither women nor men are happy as long as they live in a traditional way, which shows that there is something wrong with the patriarchal society. It seems as if Eliot does not want her characters to suffer more in this way. Due to the social limitations, it was impossible for both Maggie and Tom to live happily on earth, so Eliot fulfills Maggie's desire to be hand in hand with brother forever by making them die together: *The brother and sister had gone down in an embrace never to be parted, living through again in one supreme moment the days when they had clasped their little hands in love and roamed the daisies fields together* ([7], p. 534). With such a tragic death of the siblings, Eliot criticizes society which suffocates people and implies that it is actually the society that kills them by dictating them how to behave. Maggie sacrifices her life to save the life of her mother and brother: *She shows heroic efforts to save her brother and mother regardless of her own safety* ([7], p. 532). Therefore, Maggie spent her whole life trapped in between duties and desires.

### **Author details**

Aycan Gökçek Ankara Yıldırım Beyazıt University, Ankara, Turkey

\*Address all correspondence to: agokcek@ybu.edu.tr

© 2023 The Author(s). Licensee IntechOpen. This chapter is distributed under the terms of the Creative Commons Attribution License (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0), which permits unrestricted use, distribution, and reproduction in any medium, provided the original work is properly cited.

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[6] Susan Dee P. Female sexuality and triangular desire in vanity fair and the Mill on the Floss. Papers on Language & Literature. 1999;**1999**:1294

[7] George E. The Mill on the Floss. London: Pan Books; 1975

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### *Edited by Asun López-Varela Azcárate*

*Comparative Literature – Interdisciplinary Considerations* is a wide-ranging exploration of various aspects of comparative literature and cultural phenomena from different angles. The authors delve into intriguing topics such as literary tourism, biofiction, colonial/ postcolonial literature, suspense in literature, and the interaction between different artistic mediums. For instance, the analysis of Gabriel García Márquez's works sheds light on the genres of magic realism and the Latin American boom, as well as how his literature influences literary tourism experiences. Another example is the study of Anna Enquist's work, which showcases the genre of biofiction and examines the complex messages conveyed through reconstructed voices and alternative perspectives, including the portrayal of Captain Cook's wife. This is compared with historical accounts of the 18th-century Ottoman Empire during Sultan Selim III's reign, as studied by Stanford Shaw in Between Old and New. The book also explores the theme of unease and suspense in Patricia Highsmith's writing, focusing on her iconic character Tom Ripley, known for his psychological depth and morally ambiguous nature. Additionally, discussions on colonial/postcolonial literature and the representation of women's restrictions from a historical perspective contribute to a better understanding of power dynamics, gender representation, and non-Western literature. Henri Fauconnier's Malaisie is analyzed in the context of "paracoloniality," highlighting the transformative potential of Western texts and emphasizing overlooked aspects in discussions of colonial and postcolonial literature. The volume offers valuable insights into the representation of nations and historical figures through Malay and Persian travel narratives, as well as their influence on cultural identity. Moreover, the chapters explore the evolution of literary genres, the interconnectedness of literature with other art forms, and the impact of technological advancements on artistic expression. Overall, this book provides valuable perspectives on the rich tapestry of literature, art, and culture. It encourages scholars to explore diverse cultural expressions and fosters interdisciplinary dialogue within the field of comparative literature.

Published in London, UK © 2024 IntechOpen © Andyborodaty / iStock

Comparative Literature - Interdisciplinary Considerations

Comparative Literature

Interdisciplinary Considerations

*Edited by Asun López-Varela Azcárate*