In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:

Starting at the End in Eugénie Grandet John T. Booker E UGÉNIE GRANDET, surely among the most popular and widely read of Balzac’s novels, would seem to illustrate quite nicely Barthes’ category of the “ lisible,” the sort of work which relegates the reader to the relatively passive role of “ consommateur.” 1This image of the reader “ consuming” the text (rather than participating in a more active way in its “ production”) corresponds after all to the stereotypical view of what it is like to read a Balzacian novel. Our expectations shaped by a deliberate exposition, and guided along the way by the narrator’s unfailing insights, we have only to follow the story in its seemingly inexorable progression toward an end which provides the sense of closure characteristic of realist fiction, that “ sentiment satisfaisant,” as Armine Kotin Mortimer describes it, “ que toutes les données du récit ont abouti à leur fin plus ou moins nécessaire, que les problèmes posés par la narra­ tion sont résolus, qu’aucun bout de fil narratif ne reste flottant, que les signes composant l’univers narratif sont épuisés, en somme, que ce qui a été ouvert est clos.” 2 Even in the most traditional narrative, of course, the movement toward that inviting sense of closure is never as uninterrupted or as uni­ linear as the scenario above might suggest. “ For we also read back­ wards,” argues Victor Brombert, “ and there is such a thing as the memory of the text.” 3As we work through a novel, we periodically find that what we are reading at the moment echoes something earlier in the text, or (to turn the perspective around), that an earlier feature now appears, from hindsight, to have prepared what is presently before us. Beginnings, Brombert goes on to emphasize, are particularly important in this respect: “ Literally speaking, even if in a subliminal manner, the first word of a text remains longest with the reader along the textual tra­ jectory, and by this virtue alone acquires a privileged status.” 4 It is in terms of this play between the “ linearity” of a narrative and its “ memory” —and in this case, more particularly between beginning and ending,—that Eugénie Grandet turns out to be surprisingly complex and interesting. At first glance, the novel appears to open in a very conventional way, with one of those “ longues énumérations de commissaire-priseur,” in 38 F a l l 1991 B ook er Zola’s colorful phrase, “ dont Balzac obstruait le début de ses romans.” 5 In fact, however, the exposition consists of two distinct parts, marked by different tenses: a single (but lengthy) paragraph in the present tense,6 followed by a long section (1030-44) in the past tenses of traditional nar­ ration. In the opening paragraph, the narrator moves quickly from an overview of provincial life—“ Il se trouve dans certaines villes de province des maisons. . .” —to a specific example—“ . . . un logis situé à Saumur. . .” (1027). Before describing that house in more detail, he assumes the role of guide, pointing out to the reader (cast in the role of first-time visitor) the characteristic features of the street leading up to it: “ Ici . . . Là . . . Plus loin. . .” (1028). Focusing on “ les rez-de-chaussée commerçants” (1028), he depicts a typical interior—“ Entrez? . . . Vous verrez. . .” (1029)—and then an iterative “ scene” : “ Le samedi, vers midi, dans la belle saison. . .” (1029). Once this brief tour has been com­ pleted, our attention is redirected to the particular house “ où se sont accomplis les événements de cette histoire” (1030), now identified for the first time as “ la maison à M. Grandet.” Everything to this point, given in the present tense, is understood to exist at the moment of narration itself, and must therefore postdate the outcome of the eventual story. It is to explain the phrase “ la maison à M. Grandet” that the narrator then shifts to past tenses to introduce the material which fits the more restricted definition of “exposition” proposed by Meir Sternberg, name­ ly, everything which precedes (in the underlying fictional chronology) a novel’s first true scene.7 In the case of Eugénie Grandet, the...

pdf

Share