1

From Anatomy

of Criticism:

Four Essays

:rt's concise account of com-;enre focuses attention on theoften used to describe it. The

moner made good who vergesvader, usurper, and colooi7.er,mnibalisticaJly feeds off other,

Moreover, the indetenninacymscription. These metaphorsof a tyrannical freedom, the)Orates it to such a degree that,lated case, - a "ttait- in search

f "genreness "? Acknowledgingblem is more "natUral- to the

itional forms to the restrictions)n's freedom and lawlessness.-, categories are erected as so

is summoned.-preliminary speculation. Whyadjudication? Perhaps because4 of a separable "literary" cate-Vhat looks like the special wi-ts special funCtions: the role ofeedom as a negative quantity, ahe modern shift in the idea of

nstraining taxonomy-is coex-

ISC it marks a similar separationct, the novel is the great modern

l in "matching- that is only tacit,theory. The novel cryst3.Dizes

part of itS form, the problem of

vel a d11ferent sort of genre maydency to reflect on itS nature-~ss. Robert's suggestive remarks

l phrase fain tm roman may pro-dency of the novel is manifested:.rd mobility; the behavior of the

Irm and content.

IN ASSIGNING THE TERM fiction to the genre of the written word, in whichprose tends to become the predominating rhydtm, we collide with the viewthat the real meaning of fiction is falsehood or unreality. Thus an autobi~-phy co. into a lib would be classified as non-fiction if the librarianbelieved the author, and as fiction if she thoug t e was . t 18 . cult to

see what use such a distinction can be to a litenlry critic, Surely the wordfiction, which, like poetry, means etymologically something made for its ownsake, could be applied in criticism to any work of literary art in a radicallycontinuous form, which almost always means a work of art in prose. Or, ifthat is too much to ask, at least some protest can be entered against the sloppyhabit of identifying fiction with the one genuine form of fiction which weknOw as the novel.

,Let us look at a few of the unclassified books lying on the boundary of-non-fiction- and -literature,- Is 7rotram Shandy a novel? Nearly everyonewould sayres, in spite of its easygoing disregard of-storyvalues,- Is Gu/li'Ver~1rafJels a novel? Here most would demur, including the Dewey decimal syS;'

tetri, which puts it under -Satire and Humor.- But surely everyone would call~Ffiction, and if it is fiction, a ~<?n~ 1?e~n fiction as ~us~~~- ovel as a species of that genus. Shifting the ground to fiction, then,~ Sartor ReS4rhls fiction? If not, why not? Ifit is, is 17Je Anatomy ofMelanchoiy~on? Is it a literary form or only a work of-non-fiction» written with -style-?

? Everyman's Library says yes; the World's Clas"'l-~rave1 and Topography.»

The literary historian who identifies fiction with the novel is gready em-

time that the world managed to get along withoutand until he reaches his great ddiverance in Defoe, his perspective

He is compelled to reduce Tudor fiction to a series of

which works well enough for Deloney but~onseDSe of Sidney. He postulates a great fictional gap in the seven-

century which exactly covers the golden age of rhetorical prose. Hethat the word novel, which up to about 1900 was still theor less recognizable form, has since expanded into a catchall

» some-

~

5

6

GenrcTbeory

tive whichS' omplicated to be any longer workable, and some more

relative an Coperni view must take its place:When w 0 think seriously about the novel, not as fiction, but as a

form of fiction, we feel that its characteristics, whatever they are, are such asmake, say, Defoe, Fidding, Austen, and James central in its tradition, andBorrow, PeacoCk, Melville, and Emily Bronte somehow peripheral. This is

not an estimate of merit: we may think Moby Did "greater" than The Egoistand ~t feel that Meredith's book is closer to being a typical novd. ~~conception of the novel ~~~~~~~e seems fundamental to thetradifion~d so much-to establish. In novds that we think of as typical, like

those of Jane Austen, plot and dialogue are closely linked to the conventionsof the comedy of manners. The conventions of Wuthering Heights are linked

rather with the tale and the ballad. They seem to have more affinity with trag-edy, and the tragic emotions of passion and fury, which would shatter thebalance of tone in Jane Austen, can be safdy accommodated here. So can thesupernatural, or the suggestion of it, which is difficult to get into a novd.The shape of the plot is different: instead of manoeuvering around a central

situation, as Jane Austen does, Emily Bronte tells her story with linear accents,and she seems to need the help of a narrator, who would be absurdly out ofplace in Jane Austen. Conventions so different justify us in regarding Wuther-ing Heights as a different form of prose fiction from the novel, a form whichwe shall here call the romance. Here again we have to use the same word in

several different contexts, but romance seems on the whole better than tale,

which appears to fit a somewhat shorter form.The essential difference ~ novel and romance lies in the concep-

- - ~--- tion of~~~ ~on. The romancer does not attempt to create "real people-

so much as stylized figures which expand into psychological archetypes. It isin the romance that we find Jung's libido, anima, and shadow reflected in thehero, heroine, and villain respectively. That is why the romance so often radi-

ates a glow of subjective intensity that the novel1acks, and why a suggestionof allegory is constantly creeping in around its fringes. Certain dements of-

rcharacter are rdeased in the romance which make it naturally a more revolu-

tionary form than the novel. The novelist deals with personality, with charac-ters wearing their perscmae or social masks. He needs the framework of a stablesociety, and many of our best Iiovdists have been conventional to the vergeof fussiness. The romancer deals with individuality, with charaCters in 'Vacuoidealized by revery, and, however conservative he may be, sometJ1ing nihilistic

and untamable is likdy to keep breaking out of his pages.The prose romance, then, is an independent form of ficfiO1\ to &e distin-

guished from the novel and extracted from the miscellaneous heap of proSeworks now covered by that term. Even in the other heap known as short s~riesone can isolate the tale form used by Poe, which bears the same relation to thefull romance that the stories of Chekhov or Katherine Mansfidd do to tfie

novd. "Pure- examples of either form are never found; there is hardly anymodern ~mance fuat could not 15"e macie out ro~ovel, and vice versa.The forms of prose fiction are mixed, like racial strains in human beings, not

separable like the sexes. In fact the popular demand in fiction is always for a

7~ )VOrkable, and some more

Norduop Fryenovd, not as fiction, but as avhatever they are, are such as, central in its tradition, andsomehow peripheral This is

)icl "greater" than The Egoist

:ing a typical novel. Fidding'sI8e seems fundamental to the:hat we think of as typical, like

sdy linked to the conventions: Wuthen'ng Heights are linked() have more affinity with mg-Ury, which would shatter the:commodated here. So can the, difficult to get into a novel.1anoeuvering around a central

Is her story with linear accents,who would be absurdly out of

justify us in regarding Wuther-from the novel, a form which,-nave to use the same word inon the whole better than tale,

mixed form, a romantic novd just romantic enough for the reader to projecthis libido on the hero and his anima on the heroine, and just novd enough to

keep these projections in a familiar world. It may be asked, therefore, what isthe use of making the above distinction, especially when, though undevelopedin criticism, it is by no means unrealized. It is no surprise to hear that Tronopewrote novels and William Morris romances.

The reason is that a great romancer should be examined in terms of theconventions he chose. William Morris should not be left on the side lines of

prose fiC!i9_I!.JlL~~se ili~~~1earIt~~~ romanceform seriously. Nor, in ;;;;';;OTWnaTJias-oeenwQaOO\1filie-revolutionarynamre-of-the romance, should his choice of that form be regarded as an "es-cape- from his social attitude. If Scott has any claims to be a romancer, it isnot good criticism to deal only with his defects as a novelist. The romanticqualities of The Pilgrims Progress, too, its archetypal characterization and itsrevolutionary approach to religious experience, make it a well-rounded ex-ample of a literary form: it is not merely a book sW3.llowed by English literatureto get some religious bulk in its diet. Fmany, when Hawthom~ in the prefaceto The House of the Se'Ven Gall/es, insists that his story should be read as r0-mance and not as novel, it is possible that he meant what he said, even thoughhe indicates that the prestige of the rival form has induced the romancer to

apologize for not using it.Romance is older than the novel, a fact which has developed the historical

illusion that it is something to be outgrown, a juvenile and undeveloped form.The social affinities of the romance, with its grave idealizing of heroism and

purity, are with the aristocracy (for the apparent inconsistency of this with therevolutionary nature of the form just mentioned, see the introductory com-ment on the mythos of romance in [my] previous essay). It revived in the periodwe can Romantic as part of the Romantic tendency to archaic feudalism anda cult of the hero, or idealized libido. In England the romances of Scott and,in less degree, the Brontes, are part of a mysterious Northumbrian renaissance,a Romantic reaction against the new industrialism in the Midlands, whichalso produced the poetry of Wordsworth and Bums and the philosophy of

Carlyle. It is not surprising, therefore, that an important theme in the morebOurgeois novel should be the parody of the romance and its ideals. The tradi-.tiOnestablished by Don Quixote continues in a type of novel which looks at a

.. . . -. point of view, so that the conventions of the

forms make up an ironic compound instead of a sentimental mixture.

Madame BO'Vary and LordJim.The tendency to allegory in the romance may be conscioU$, as in The

Progress, or unconscious, as in the very obvious ~ mythopoeia inMorris. The romance, which deals with heroes, is intermediate be-

which deals with men, and the myth, which deals with gods.

id romance lies in the concep-t attempt to aeate &rea1 people"psycllological archetypes. It is

Cla, and shadow reflected in thewhy the romance so often radi-

vel lacks, and why a suggestionts fringes. Certain dements oflake it natUrally a more revolu-s with personality, with charac-needs the framework of a stablebeen conventional to the vergeluality, with characters in WCUI)

he may be, sometI1ingnihilistic>fhis pages..ent form of ficfioR to be distin-he miscellaneous heap of proSe,ther heap known as short storieschbears the same relation to theKatherine Mansfidd do to t&e

ever found; there is hardly any

it to be a novel, and vice versa.:ial strains in human beings, notiemand in fiction is always for a

,Sagas of Iceland follow close on the mythical Eddas. The nom

l. "!. . The soundness of

instinct in calling Tom Jones a history is confirmed by the generalthe larger the scheme of a nom becomes, the more obviously its

historical nature appears. As it is creative history, however, the novelist usuallyprefers his material in a plastic, or roughly contemporary state, and feelscramped by a fixed historical pattern. Wa'Uer1ey is dated about sixty years backfrom the time of writing and Little Dorrit about forty years, but the historicalpattern is fixed in the romance and plastic in the novel, suggesting the generalprinciple that most "historical novels" are romances. Similarly a novd becomesmore romantic in its appeal when the life it reflects has passed away: thus thenovels ofTrollope were read primarily as romances during die Second WorldWar. It is perhaps the link with history and a sense of temporal context thathas confined the novel, in striking contrast to the worldwide romance, to the

alliance of time andWestem man.

Gentt'naeory

~' t r

1

I

i

l, .

AUTOBIOGRAPHY IS ANOTHER FORM which merges with the novel by aseries of insensible gradations. Most autobiographies are inspired by a aeati'9le,and therefore fictional, impulse to select only those events and experiences inthe writer's life that go to build up an integrated pattern. This pattern may besomething larger than himself with which he has come to identify himself, or

simply the coherence of his character and attitudes. We may call this veryimportant form of prose fiction the confession form, following St. Augustine,who appears to have invented it, and Rousseau, who established a moderntype of it. The earlier tradition gave Religio Medici, Grace Abounding, andNewman's Apologill to English literature, besides the related but subdy differ-

ent type of confession favored by the mystics.Here again, as with the romance, there is some wlue in recognizing a

distinct prose form in the confession. It gives several of our best prose worksa definable place in fiction instead of keeping them in a vague limbo of bookswhich are not quite literature because they are "thought, . and not quite reli-

gion or philosophy because they are Examples of Prose Style. The confession,too, like the novel and the romance, has itS own short form, the familiar essay,and Montaigne's liwe de bonne foyis a confession made up of essays in which

only the continuous narrative of the longer form is missing. Montaigne'sscheme is to the confession what a work of fiction made up of short stories,such as Joyce's Dublinm or Boccaccio's Decameron, is to the novel or romance.

After Rousseau-in fact in Rousseau-the confession flows into thenOvd, and the mixture produces the fictional autobiography, the Kimstler- ~

rotrUm, and kindred types. There is no literary reason why the subject of aconfession should always be the author himself, and dramatic confessions havebeen used in the novel at least since Moll Flanders. The "stream of conscious-ness. technique permits of a much more concentrated fusion of the two forms,but even here the characteristics peculiar to the confession form show upclearly. Nearly always some theoretical and intellectual interest in religion,politics, or art plays a leading role in the confession. It is his success in inte-grating his mind on such subjects that makes the author of a confession fedthat his life is worth writing about. But this interest in ideas and theoreticalstatements is alien to the genius of the novel proper, where the technical prob-lem is to dissolve all theory into personal relationships. In Jane Austen, to takea familiar instance, church, state, and culture are never examined except as

lii~

9

:r, me novelist usuallylrary state, and feelsLbout sixty years back

an, but the historicaluggesting me generalilarly a novel becomespassed away: thus the

ng me Second Worldtemporal context thatlwide romance, to the

Nord1rop F~

social data, and Henry James has been described as having a mind so fine thatno idea could violate it. The novelist who cannot get along without ideas, orhas not the patience to digest them in the way that James did, instinctivelyresorts to what Mill calls a "mental history" of a single character. And whenwe find that a technical discussion of a theory of aesthetics fonDs the climaxof Joyce's Portrait, we realize that what makes this possible is the presence inthat novel of another tradition of prose fiction.

The novel tends to be extroverted and perso~ its chief interest is inhuman character as it manifests itself in ~. The romance tends to beintroverted and personal: it also deals with characters, but in a more subjective

way. (Subjective here ~fers to treatment, not subject-matter. The charactersof romance are heroic and therefore inscrutable; the novelist is freer to enterhis characters' minds because he is more objective.) The confession is alsointroverted, but intellectualized in content. Our next step is evidendy to dis-cover a fourth form of fiction which is extroverted and intellectual.

s with the novel by a

: inspired by a creative,:nts and experiences in11. This pattern may be: to identify himself, or

We may call d1is very

.Bowing St. Augustine,

. established a modemGrIICe Abounding, and

:lated but subdy differ-

WE REMARKED EARLIER that most people would caD GuUiwr~ ThlfJeIs fic-tion but not a novel. It must men be anomer form of fiction, as it certainly hasa form, and we fed mat we are turning from the novel to this form. whateverit is, when we turn from Rousseau's Emile to Voltaire's Candide, or from But-ler's The Way of .AU Flesh to the Erewhon books, or from Huxley's Point Coun-terpoint to Braw New World The form thus has its own traditions, and, as.theexamples of Butler and Huxley show, has preserved some integrity even underthe ascendancy of the nom. Its existence is easy enough to demonstrate, andno one will challenge the statement that the literary ancestry of GuUiVeT~Tratlels and Candide runs through Rabelais and Erasmus to Lucian. But whilemuch has been said about the style and dlought of Rabelais, Swift, and Vol-

taire, very little has been made of them as craftsmen working in a specificmedium, a point no one dealing with a novelist would ignore. Another greatWriter in this tradition, Huxley's master Peacock, has fared even worse, for, his

furm not being understood, a general impression has grown up that his status. - Actually, he

value in recognizing aof our best prose worksa vague limbo of books~ht," and not quite reli-

c Style. The confession,form, the familiar essay,Ie up of essays in which

s missing. Montaigne'slade up of short stories,to the novel or romance.nfession flows into the

>iography, the Kunst/er-()n why the subject of a

ramatic confessions have

he "stream of conscious-I fusion of the two forms,)nfession form show up:tual interest in religion,. It is his success in inte-

lthor of a confession fed

t in ideas and theoreticalwhere the technical prob-IS. In Jane Austen, to take

lever examined accpt as

~

The fonn used by these authors is the Menippean satire, also more rarely. allegedly invented by a Greek cYnic named Menip-

works are lost, but he had two great disciples, the Greek Lucian and

VaITO, and the tradition of VaITO, who has not survived either

by Petronius and Apuleius. The Menip-to have developed out of verse satire through the practice

interludes~ but we know it only as a prosefonn, though one

the use of incidental verse.satire deals less with people as such than with mental

Pedants, bigots, cranks, parvenus, virtuosi, enthusiasts, rapacious- men of all kinds, are handled in tenns of their

~ The Men-

rllus fesembles the confession in its ability to handle abstract

and differs from the novel in its characterization, which is

10

Genre Theory

stylized rather than naturalistic, and presents people as mouthpieces of the

ideas they represent. Here again no sharp boundary lines can or should be

drawn, but if we compare a character in Jane Austen with a similar character

in Peacock we can immediately fed the difference between the two forms.

Squire Western bdongs to the novd, but Thwackum and Square have Menip-

pean blood in them. A constant theme in the tradition is the ridicule of the

phi/osopbus g/oriosus, already discussed. The novelist sees evil and folly as social

diseases, but the Menippean satirist sees them as diseases of the intdlect, as a

kind of maddened pedantry which the phi/osophus g/oriosus at once symbolizes

and defines.

Petronius, Apuleius, Rabelais, Swift, and Voltaire all use a loose-jointed

narrative form often confused with the romance. It differs from the romance,

however (though mere is a strong admixture of romance in Rabdais), as it isnot primarily concerned with the exploits of heroes, but rdies on me free play

of intellectual fancy and the kind of humorous observation that produces cari-

cature. It differs also from the picaresque form, which has the novel's interest

in the actual structure of society. At its most concentrated the Menippeansatire presents us with a vision of the world in terms of a single intdlectual

pattern. The intdlectual structure built up from the story makes for violent

dislocations in the customary logic of narrative, though the appearance of

carelessness that results rdiects only the carelessness of dte reader or his ten-

dency to judge by a novel-centered conception of fiction.

The word "satire," in Roman and Renaissance times, meant either of two

specific literary forms of that name, one (this one) prose and the other verse.

Now it means a structural principle or attitude, what we have called a mythos.

In the Menippean satires we have been discussing, the name of the form also

applies to the attitude. As the name of an attitude, sa~ is, we have seen, a

combination of fantasy and morality. But as the name of a form, the term

satire, though confined to literature (for as a mythos it may appear in any art,

a cartoon, for example), is more flexible, and can be either entirely fantastic orentirely moral. The Menippean adventure story may dtus be pure fantasy, as

it is in the literary fairy tale. The Alice books are perfect Menippean satires,

and so is The Water-Babies, which has been influenced by Rabelais. The purely

moral type is a serious vision of society as a single intellectual pattern, in other

words a Utopia.

The short form of the Menippean satire is usually a dialogue or colloquy,

in which the dramatic interest is in a conflict of ideas rather than of character.

This is the favorite form of Erasmus, and is common in Voltaire. Here againthe form is not invariably satiric in attitude, but shades off into more purely

fanciful or moral discussions, like dte Imaginary Convmations of Landor or

dte "dialogue of the dead." Sometimes this form expands to full length, and

more than two speakers are used: the setting then is usually a Ctna or sympo-

sium, like me one that looms so large in Petronius. Plato, though much earlier

in me field than Menippus, is a strong influence on this type, which stretches

in an unbroken tradition down through those urbane and leisurely ronversa-

tions which define the ideal courtier in Castiglione or the doctrine and disci-

pline of angling in Walton. A modem development produces the country-

11~ple as mouthpieces of thedary lines can or should be

;ten with a similar characterice between the two forms.

um and Square have Menip-adition is the ridicule of theLst sees evil and folly as social

diseases of the intdlect, as a

r g/oriosus at once symbolizes

NordIrop Frye

>ltaire all use a loose-jointedIt differs from the romance,

romance in Rabelais), as it isICS, but relies on the free playlservation that produces cari-Nhich has the novel's interest

:oncentrated the Menippeanterms of a single intellectual1 the story makes for violente, though the appearance ofness of the reader or his ten-

If fiction.Ice times, meant either of twole) prose and the other verse.what we have called a mythos.rlg, the name of the form alsoude, satire is, we have seen, ale name of a form, the term..thos it may appear in any art,1 be either entirely fantastic or, may thus be pure fantasy, as

Ire perfect Menippean satires,enced by Rabdais. The purelyLe intellectual pattern, in other

house weekends in Peacock, Huxley, and their imitators in which the opinionsand ideas and cultural interests expressed are as important as the love-making.

The novdist shows his exuberance either by an exhaustive analysis ofhu-man relationships, as in Henry James, or of social phenomena, as in Tolstoy.The Menippean satirist, dealing with intellectual themes and attitudes, showshis exuberance in intellectual ways, by piling up an enormous mass of erudi-tion about his theme or in overwhelming his pedantic targets with an ava-lanche of their own jargon. A species, or rather sub-species, of the form isthe kind of encyclopedic farrago represented by Amenaeus' Deipnosophists andMacrobius' Saturnalia, where people sit at a banquet and pour out a vast massof erudition on every subject that might conceivably come up in a conversa-tion. The display of erudition had probably been associated with me Menip-

pean tradition by Varro, who was enough of a polymath to make Q!lintilian,if not stare and gasp, at any rate call him vir Romanorum erut/itUsimus. The

tendency to expand into an encyclopedic farrago is dearly marked in Rabelais,notably in me great catalogues of torcheculs and epithets of codpieces andmethods of divination. The encyclopedic compilations produced in the line of

duty by Erasmus and Voltaire suggest that a magpie instinct to collect facts isnot unrelated to the type of ability that has made them famous as artists. F1au-bert's encyclopedic approach to me construction of Bouvard et Pecuchet is quite

comprehensible ifwe explain it as marking an aflinitywith the Menippean tra-dition.,

This creative treatment of exhaustive erudition is the organizing ~cipleof the greatest Menippean satire in English before Swift, Burton's Anatomy of

Mellmchoiy. Here human society is studied in terms of the intellectual patternprovided by the conception of melancholy, a symposium of boob replaces dia-1oS\Je, and the result is the most comprehensive survey of human life in onebook that English literature had seen since Chaucer, one of Burton's favorite

~ors. We may note in passing the Utopia in his introduction and his "di-. ," which when examined turn out to be scholarly distillations of

of the marvellous journey; the digres-ironic use of erudition; the digression of me miseries of

The word "anatomy" in Bur-, accuratdy the in-

. We may as well adopt it as a convenientreplace the cumbersome and in modern times rather misleading

"usually a dialogue or colloquy,. ideas rather than of character.

Inmon in Voltaire. Here againJt shades off into more purely1)' ComJersahons of Landor orm expands to fun length, and

len is usually a lena or sympo-ius. Plato, though much earlier:e on this type, which stretches

urbane and leisurelyconversa-ione or the doctrine and disci-

)pment produces the country-

of course, eventually begins to merge with the novel, pro-

; including the romtm a these and novels in which theare symbols of social or other ideas, like the proletarian n~ of. this century. It was Sterne, however, the disciple of BurtOn and

. Tristram Shandy may be,beginning, a novel, but the digressing narratiw, the cata-

along "humor" lines, the marvellous journeynose, the symposium discussions, and the constant ridicule of

, , that belong to the anatomy.

traditions of the anatomy would

12make a good many elements in the history of literature come into focus. Boe-thius' Consolation of Philosophy, with its dialogue form, its verse interludes and

its pervading tone of contemplative irony, is a pure anatomy, a fact of consider-able importance for the understanding of its vast influence. The Compleat An-gier is an anatomy because of its mixture of prose and verse, its rural ceno set-

ting, its dialogue form, its deipnosophistical interest in food, and its gende

Menippean ~ of a society which considers everything more importantthan fishing and yet has discovered very few better things to do. In nearlyevery period of literature there are many romances, confessions, and anatomiesthat are neglected only because the categories to which they belong are unrec-ognized. In the period between Sterne and Peacock, for example, we have,

among romances, Melmoth the Wanderer; among confessions, Hogg's Confes-sions of a Justified Sinner; among anatomies, Southey's Doctor, Amory's John

Buncle, and the Nodes Amhrosianae.

GcnreTheory

To SUM UP THEN: when we examine fiction from the point of view offonn,

we can see four chief strands binding it togemer, novel, confession, anatomy,and romance. The six possible combinations of these fonDS all exist, and we

have shown how the novel has combined with each of the other dlree. Exclu-sive concentration on one fonn is rare: the early novels of George Eliot, for

instance, are infiuenced by the romance, and me later ones by the anatomy.The romance-confession hybrid is found, naturally, in the autobiography of a

romantic temperament, and is represented in English by the extrovertedGeorge Borrow and the introverted De Q\1incey. The romance-anatomy one

we have noticed in Rabdais; a later example is Moby Did, where the roman:tictheme of me wild hunt expands into an encyclopedic anatomy of the whale.Confession and anatomy are united in Sartor ResariUS and in some of Kierke-gaard's strikingly original experiments in prose fiction fonn, including Either!Or. More comprehensive fictional schemes usually employ at least three fonDs:we can see strains of novel, romance, and confession in Pameill, of novel, r0-mance, and anatomy in Don Quixote, of novel, confession, and anatomy in

Proust, and of romance, confession, and anatomy in Apuleius.I deliberately make this sound schematic in order to suggest the advan-

tage of having a simple and logical explanation for me fonn of, say, Moby Dic1or Ttittram Shandy. The usual critical approach to the form of such worksresembles that of the doctors in Brobdingnag, who after great wrangling fi-nally pronounced Gulliver a lusus naturae. It is the anatomy in particular mat

has bafRed critics, and there is hardly any fiction writer deeply infiuenced byit who has not been accused of disorderly conduct. The reader may be re-mindedhete of Joyce, for describing Joyce's books as monstrous has become a

nervous tic. I find "demogorgon," "behemoth," and "white elephant" in goodcritics; the bad ones could probably do much better. The care that Joyce tookto organize Ulysses and F;nnegans Wake amounted nearly to obsession, but as

they are not organized on familiar principles of prose fiction, the impression

of shapelessness remains. Let us try our formulas on him.If a reader were asked to set down a list of the things that had most im-

pressed him about Ulysses, it might reasonably be somewhat as follows. F1rst,~

13erature come into focus. Boe-form, its verse interludes and

re anatomy, a &ct of consider-t inftuence. The CompkII/.An-;e and verse, its rural una set-lterest in food, and its geoders everyd1ing more importantbetter things to do. In nearly:ea, confessions, and anatomies> which they belong are unrec-:acock, for example, we have,

tg confessions, Hogg's Ctmfts-outhey's Doctor, Amory's John

NordInIp F.,.

the clarity with which the sights and sounds and smells of Dublin come to

life, the rotundity of the character-drawing, and the naturalness of the dia-

logue. Second, d1e daborate way that the story and characten ale parodied bybeing set against aIChetypal heroic patterns, notably the one provided by the

Odyssey. Third, the revelation of character and incident through the sean:hinguse of the ~-of'-consciousness technique. Fourth, the constant tendencyto be encyclopedic and exhaustive both in technique and in subject matter,and to see both in highly intellectualized tenDs. It should not be too hard forus by now to see mat dtese four points deacribe elements in the book which

relate to the novel, romance, confession, and anatomy respectively. Ulysses,then, is a complete prole epic with all foul forms employcd in it, all of practi-

cally equal importance, and all essential to one another, so that the book is aunity and not an aggregate.

This unity is built up from an intricate scheme of parallel contrasts, Theromantic archetypes of Hamlet and myaes ale like remote ItaIS in a literaryheaven looking down quimcaUy on the shabby creatures of Dublin obediently

intertwining th~1ves in the patterns let by their influences. In the .Cy-clops' and "Circe- episodes particularly there is a continuous parody of realis-tic patterns by romantic ones which reminds us, though the irony leans in the

opposite direction, of M~ B~ The relation of nOYd and confessiontechniques is similar; the author jumps into his characten' minds to followtheir stream of consciousness, and out again to describe them externally. Ind1e nOYd-anatomy combination, too, found in the 8Jtbaca- chapter, the sense

of.1urking antagonism between the personal and intdlectual aspects of d1escene accounts for much of its pathos. The same principJe of parallc1 contrastholds good for the other three combinations: of romance and confession in~ausicaa- and -Pendope, - of confession and anatomy in "Proteus" and "The~toe-Eaters, - of romance and anatomy (a rare and fitful combination) in .Si-

~- and parts of-c'1n:e,-I In Fi,,1UgG1U Wale the unity of design goes far beyond this. The dingy

the sodden HCE and his pinched wife is not contrasted with d1e

-- -~-. As die setting is a dream, no contrast is possible between confes-

novd, between a stream of consciousness inside die mind and dieof other people outside it. Nor is the experiential world of die

from die intelligible world of die anatomy. The formsand which depend for dieir existence on the

- -fifth and quintessential form. This form is the one traditionally

and treats life in terms of the fall

I and apocalypse of nature.

the Egyptian Book of the Dead and

which have left deep imprints on Fintleps

rom the point of view of form,

.er, novd, confession, anatomy,)f these forms all exist, and weeach of the other three. Exclu-J"ly novds of George Eliot, forthe later ones by the anatomy.uany, in the autobiography of ain English by the extroverted:ey. The romance-anatomy oneMf1i1y Dici, where the romanticclopcdic anatomy of the whale.Res.rlJIS and in some of Kierke-e fiction form, including Either/laIly employ at least three forma:1&ssion in PQme/4, of novd, to-rd, confession, and anatomy inomy in Apukius.c in order to suggest the advan-n for the form of, say, Molly Did>ach to the form of such works.g, who after great wrangling fl-is the anatomy in particular that:non writer deeply inftuenced by::onduct. The reader may be Ie-lOOks as monstrous has become a11, - and ~te elephant- in good

1 better. The care that Joyce tookunted Dearly to obsession, but 185 of prose fiction, the impression!lulu on him.t of the things that had most im-

)ly be somewhat as follows. Fust,