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Abstract
Taking as a point of departure the long-standing debate on the forms and function of description in realist writing, I reflect on the status accorded to details within literary descriptions in early nineteenth-century fiction. I argue that, in the movement towards realism, details—especially in character descriptions—acquire a new evidential function. They act as clues to be deciphered or symptoms to be interpreted by the reader within a system of signification that can be associated with the evidential paradigm, as defined by Carlo Ginzburg. The first section of the essay focuses on the changing function of details within literary descriptions between the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries and discusses, from different disciplinary perspectives, three examples of the epistemic shift that was brought about by the rise of the evidential paradigm. The second section of the essay takes Manzoni as a case study and focuses on the evidential function of details in I Promessi Sposi.
Disclosure Statement
No potential conflict of interest was reported by the author(s).
Notes
1 I reproduce the passage in its entirety here, since I will return to it several times throughout the essay: “[Lucia] vide una finestra d’una forma singolare, con due grosse e fitte grate di ferro, distanti l’una dall’altra un palmo; e dietro quelle una monaca ritta. Il suo aspetto, che poteva dimostrar venticinque anni, faceva a prima vista un’impressione di bellezza, ma d’una bellezza sbattuta, sfiorita e, direi quasi, scomposta. Un velo nero, sospeso e stirato orizzontalmente sulla testa, cadeva dalle due parti, discosto alquanto dal viso; sotto il velo, una bianchissima benda di lino cingeva, fino al mezzo, una fronte di diversa, ma non d’inferiore bianchezza; un’altra benda a pieghe circondava il viso, e terminava sotto il mento in un soggolo, che si stendeva alquanto sul petto, a coprire lo scollo d’un nero saio. Ma quella fronte si raggrinzava spesso, come per una contrazione dolorosa; e allora due sopraccigli neri si ravvicinavano, con un rapido movimento. Due occhi, neri neri anch’essi, si fissavano talora in viso alle persone, con un’investigazione superba; talora si chinavano in fretta, come per cercare un nascondiglio; in certi momenti, un attento osservatore avrebbe argomentato che chiedessero affetto, corrispondenza, pietà; altre volte avrebbe creduto coglierci la rivelazione istantanea d’un odio inveterato e compresso, un non so che di minaccioso e di feroce: quando restavano immobili e fissi senza attenzione, chi ci avrebbe immaginata una svogliatezza orgogliosa, chi avrebbe potuto sospettarci il travaglio d’un pensiero nascosto, d’una preoccupazione familiare all’animo, e più forte su quello che gli oggetti circostanti. Le gote pallidissime scendevano con un contorno delicato e grazioso, ma alterato e reso mancante da una lenta estenuazione. Le labbra, quantunque appena tinte d’un roseo sbiadito, pure, spiccavano in quel pallore: i loro moti erano, come quelli degli occhi, subitanei, vivi, pieni d’espressione e di mistero. La grandezza ben formata della persona scompariva in un certo abbandono del portamento, o compariva sfigurata in certe mosse repentine, irregolari e troppo risolute per una donna, non che per una monaca. Nel vestire stesso c’era qua e là qualcosa di studiato o di negletto che annunziava una monaca singolare: la vita era attillata con una certa cura secolaresca, e dalla benda usciva sur una tempia una ciocchettina di neri capelli; cosa che dimostrava o dimenticanza o disprezzo della regola che prescriveva di tenerli sempre corti, da quando erano stati tagliati, nella cerimonia solenne del vestimento. Queste cose non facevano specie alle due donne, non esercitate a distinguer monaca da monaca […]” (Manzoni Citation2018, IX, 319-21).
2 “The realm of affect,” as Jameson calls it, refers to a mobilization of the senses and of the body that resists language and naming.
3 As Jameson himself puts it: there is “a tension between plot and scene, between the chronological continuum and the eternal affective present which, realized in quite distinct ratios in the various great realists, nonetheless marks out the space in which realism emerges and subsists, until one of the two antithetical forces finally outweighs the other and assures its disintegration” (Jameson Citation2015, 83). So, early nineteenth-century novels, such as those by Honoré de Balzac and Stendhal, succeed in reconciling storytelling and scenic elaboration; later realist works, for example by Gustave Flaubert and Émile Zola, register a turn toward affect as the scenic impulse and the narrative maintain their tension; the modernist novel sees realism dissolve as either one of the two antithetical forces outweighs the other.
4 Ginzburg surely had in mind Gilles Deleuze’s Proust et les signes (1964).
5 See Moretti (Citation2005). More recently Dainotto has written on the same topic in “Littérature monde: il caso dell’indizio scomparso” [unpublished essay]. Dainotto was very generous in sharing his work-in-progress with me as I prepared this article.
6 In describing the evidential method as rooted in “popular” and “low-intuition” forms of enquiry, Ginzburg underscores its conjectural and empirical aspects. This same idea informs Manzoni’s engagement with the evidential paradigm as the ability to use lived experience and common sense to read the various aspects of reality. At the same time, Ginzburg is also acknowledging how structured and recognized forms of scientific inquiry have appropriated intuitive and conjectural practices of interpretation, such as tracking and divination. One example is fingerprinting, which was developed on the basis of practices adopted by Bengali peasants.
7 Such rules include, for example, the notion of style as rule-bound, the ars rhetorica, and the normative idea of style as lexis. For theoretical treatment of the concept of style in literature, including its historical evolution, see Testa (Citation2022).
8 It is useful to keep in mind Richard Wollheim’s distinction in painting between general style and individual style, where the latter originates “internally” in the artist and the former is learned and refers to certain schools, movements, or periods, such as the School of Giotto, Mannerism, or Neoclassicism. See Jenefer Robinson (Citation1984), 147.
9 Clearly, Cuvier considers his own positivist method to be fully scientific and therefore even more trustworthy – more “certain” – than that represented by Zadig, which is nonetheless at the basis of Cuvier’s approach.
10 On the so-called “historiens-résurrectionnistes” who, like Cuvier, thought of historical reconstruction as a piecing-together of fragments of the past, see Blix (Citation2010).
11 I am focusing here on Balzac’s strategy of description, but his debt to Cuvier and to the natural sciences had a more profound conceptual significance. Balzac’s ultimate goal was to undertake a sociological study of humanity similar to the zoological classifications developed by naturalists. See Somerset (Citation2002).
12 On the impact of Lavater’s physiognomy on European culture, see Rodler (Citation2000) and the comprehensive Percival and Tytler (Citation2005). More specifically for its impact on literature, see Tytler Citation1982.
13 Physiognomy and pathognomy were largely undifferentiated in the eighteenth century and, although Lavater sought to distinguish between them, they continued to overlap throughout the nineteenth century (Shortland Citation1986, esp. 389). On the relationship between pathognomy and physiognomy in nineteenth-century thought, see Hartley (Citation2001), 36-37.
14 On physiognomy in Goethe, see, for instance, Donougho (Citation2020); in Balzac and Zola, see Rivers (Citation1994). On physiognomical concerns in Manzoni’s works, see note 15 below.
15 On the importance that Manzoni attached to the semantics of the body in his novel, see Magli (Citation1989); Pupino (Citation2003); and Contarini (Citation2011).
16 On physiognomy in Manzoni, see Perotti (Citation2014). As pointed out above, Manzoni’s comment betrays a certain skepticism about physiognomical analysis. When he describes the physical characteristics of the Milanese bystanders, among whom Renzo is trying to determine the most reliable, the result is a true physiognomical catalogue à la Lavater. Manzoni, in fact, seems to be pointing to the limits of such modes of inference, according to which the essential nature of an individual can be established on the basis of visible traits. As Perotti notes, in I Promessi sposi Manzoni does not provide many physiognomical descriptions of characters. Rather, he places the emphasis on the subtle details of body language and on how such details express a character’s emotions and attitude.
17 The examples of Gertrude and Lucia both raise the question of the problematic status of details, which has been noticed by several critics, when they are deployed to typify variables such as gender, as in this case, or race. On the bias and objectification inherent in details that parse and disaggregate the gendered and racialized body, see Zhang (Citation2023) and Lee (Citation2023). On the gendered structuration to which Manzoni’s female characters are subjected, see Valisa (Citation2014) and Trigg (Citation2022).
18 It is in the fictional representation of other people that, according to Manzoni, one is able to “considerare…il mistero di se stesso” (Manzoni Citation1991, 7). When it comes to characterization, then, the detail in Manzoni does not typify; rather, it points to the universality of human nature.
19 As Hamon notes regarding Flaubert, details in a realist description appeal directly to the reader and, in virtue of their incompleteness, they elicit interpretation (Hamon Citation1992, 116).
20 On the centrality of illustrations to Manzoni’s editorial project and his tight collaboration with the illustrator Francesco Gonin, see Barelli (Citation1991); Mazzocca (Citation2000); Alfano, et al. (Citation2018); and Brogi (Citation2018).
21 See the images reproduced on pp. 666; 925; 949; and 951 in Manzoni Citation2018.
22 On Renzo’s experience at the osteria della Luna piena and on the important role played in this episode by the signic mechanism of communication, see Corti (Citation1989). Corti, like Eco, emphasizes the opposition between orality and writing and on Renzo’s different attitudes toward the two forms of communication.
23 Peter Brooks, in Realist Vision, makes a similar observation about Flaubert’s initial presentation of Emma Bovary: “In retrospect, you can say that these glimpses of Emma all suggest her sensuous nature—the extent to which she will live, and die, by her senses. But as we read them they are details that we have yet to recover for meaning—to recuperate, as the French would say. They are simply there, as precise notations of what has been seen” (Brooks Citation2005, 55). In the case of Manzoni’s description of Gertrude, however, the details are there to be examined, as is made clear by the allusion to what a careful observer might infer. Incidentally, Brooks draws attention to another topic that would be interesting to explore in depth in relation to the question of description and details in literary realism. I am referring to the objectification of female characters that defines the realist gaze. Hyper-detailed depictions of things, which characterize realist fiction, are all too often applied to women, who are positioned as “objects” to be understood. On the problematic status of Gertrude as a character shaped by gender and ideology, see Valisa (Citation2014).
24 Microhistory places great historical narratives on the back burner in order to give space to everyday life, prioritizing the experience of common people. It is interesting that, in Manzoni’s arguments against the historical novel, a position emerges that focuses on the question of narrativization, similarly to what happens in the historiographical debates of the twentieth century. For both the novelist and the historian the objective is to construct a narrative that discloses an unknown aspect of reality. Fiction and history, though, remain distinct. In a historical narrative, as Levi notes in his essay on microhistory, it is necessary to state openly one’s methodology and the possible lacunae and biases of one’s sources. This is not always the case in a fictional rendition of reality – however “realistic” it purports to be (Levi Citation1991, 106). The historian’s reconstruction of history, then, can and often does remain incomplete, whereas fictional realism can and often does offer a closure in which the truth is imagined rather than ascertained. This is exactly the paradox that Manzoni exposes in his essay on the historical novel. Codebò also points out the analogy between Manzoni’s approach to historiography and fiction and the modern approach to history as embodied by Carlo Ginzburg (Codebò Citation2006, 192). For some interesting considerations on Manzoni’s essay on the historical novel in connection with the relationship between historical fiction and historiography, see Ginzburg (Citation2006), esp. pp. 305–308. For an original and theoretically-informed reading of Manzoni’s approach to history and historical reconstruction, see Weber (Citation2013).
25 For a recent general introduction to the Storia della Colonna infame, see Raboni (Citation2020).
26 For a reading of the Storia della Colonna Infame that problematizes the role of the judges by highlighting the “contamination” process that makes them complicit with the “masses,” see Trigg (Citation2022).
27 On these topics, see Codebò (Citation2006); Fichera (Citation2011); and Weber (Citation2013).
28 Martin Wagner has written about “literary observation” as a main device of the literature of realism. The emphasis, though, is not on the reader’s role as an interpreter. Observation is presented as a way for writers to carry the narrative visually and to have readers “experience the text as if they were visually exploring the world” (Wagner Citation2018, 1). In fact, in the final chapter devoted to Arthur Conan Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes stories, Wagner argues that Holmes’ investigative method is not based on “observation” as he has discussed it, but rather that it relies on his ability to “classify” the details of a case and compare them to what he already knows. In this sense, Holmes’ observations do not produce new knowledge, so Wagner sees this as the endpoint of realism and literary observation (Wagner Citation2018, 143-164).
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Sabrina Ferri
Sabrina Ferri is a scholar of Italian and Comparative Literature. After reaching the rank of Associate Professor with tenure in North America in 2016, she recently returned to Italy where she is continuing her research independently. Her work centers on the intersection of philosophy and literature in the period between the mid-18th and early 19th centuries known as the “Tournant des Lumières.” She is the author of Ruins Past: Modernity in Italy, 1744–1836 and of various articles on authors such as Vico, Casanova, Alfieri, Pietro Verri, and Leopardi. Her current projects include a study of vision and point-of-view in Leopardi and a long-term research project that addresses the question of the spread of the novel in 18th-century Italy from the point of view of translation, transnationalism, and multilingualism.