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  • Research, Essay, Failure (Flaubert’s Itinerary)
  • Stathis Gourgouris (bio)

The enigmatic Argentine, who has rightfully gained the sole honor of being Master Librarian of the twentieth century, recognized once that Flaubert’s singular destiny was determined by the invention of silent reading as a mystical art form, which led (in its eventual profane expression) to the conception of the Book as an abyssal end-in-itself. 1 Borges’s genealogical placement of Flaubert within the long legacy of the Cult of Books, albeit quaintly figured, cannot be disputed on his terms. No doubt, Flaubert was an avid bibliophile and a voracious consumer of the printed word. But whether Flaubert was indeed a fan of the art of silent reading remains unclear. On the other hand, we know for certain that he was particularly fond of loudly pronouncing his written sentences over and over again until they materialized in suspension, as it were—the state of perfection that disregards the differences between the mystical and the profane. In this respect, Flaubert confirms Borges’s genealogy, while absenting himself from his historical account that sees a progression from the cult of the spoken word to the cult of the written through that remarkable mediation of silent reading. Because Flaubert made his mark precisely by being attuned to the intricate path that language forges out of its incessant repetition, a path particularly intriguing when this repetition characterized the entire domain of social and cultural utterance. This latter path was sketched out, quite appropriately, in lexicographic form, making up the famous Dictionnaire des idées reçues (Dictionary of Received Ideas), an early text that arguably served as the map for Flaubert’s future writing, the antecedent inventory of his oeuvre, and thus the projected itinerary for his travels across the errant ways of thought.

In the Dictionnaire des idées reçues, pertaining to the entry TRAVELING, we come upon a rather curious statement: “Should be done fast.” I say curious because in regards to a time still dominated by the great luxury and leisure associated with the so-called Grand Tour, one scarcely thinks of the activity of traveling as a hurried affair. Yet, we know that the “truths” of the Dictionnaire were sought in and collected from the great Babel of platitudes in Flaubert’s day, that vast ensemble of aporias, exclamations, and witticisms in oral or printed form which were revered as the body of public knowledge in nineteenth-century France. We also [End Page 343] know that for Flaubert this body of knowledge was quite simply the representation of collective idiocy: la bêtise as he sweepingly called it from his youngest days, an apt witness being his very first piece of known correspondence at the age of nine.

In this respect, the explication for the notion of TRAVELING in the Dictionnaire may be said to stand precisely opposite the meaning attributed to traveling by all those who actually practiced it (which would most certainly include Flaubert): namely, that the activity of traveling, beyond its reputation for luxury, was ultimately associated with duration, with taking up time—which is an essential precondition to taking one’s time. This point is elucidated by an otherwise unassuming cross-reference in the Dictionnaire, indeed one of the very few cross-references that Flaubert has not taken the care to indicate himself. If we look under the entry for WRITING, we see in Italian the phrase currente calamo, that is, in effect, “Pen in ceaseless motion” followed by the complementary explanation: “Excuse for errors in style or spelling.” 2 By this very specific notation, implying the inevitable prescription of haste, the two activities of traveling and of writing come to an interesting significational co-incidence.

For Flaubert, of course, this co-incidence between the time of traveling and the time of writing is definitely carried over into their actuality, albeit marked with the exact opposite meaning. This reversal is perfectly in line with Flaubert’s own early indication regarding the nature and purposes of the Dictionnaire: “it would be the historical glorification of everything approved . . . full of quotations and proofs (which would prove the opposite)” (Corr. III, 66). As such, anyone who has...

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