The structuralist resistance to character, and the resistance to that resistance, may stem from the nostalgia for the sense of core identity like that conveyed by Renaissance Drama of Nineteenth-century novel.

Barbara Pym’s novels of the 1950s are generally devoted to the representation of the life of educated single gentlewomen, but when she does choose to depict men, they do not conform to contemporary ideas of masculinity. This paper demonstrates Pym’s ambiguous treatment of several types of male characters and the traditional association between homosexuality and the Anglo-Catholic faction of the Anglican Church. Although in her presentation Pym refers to popular cultural attitudes and clichés, which were clear to her target audience but have to be explicated today (more than 50 years later), this use of stereotypes does not amount to moral judgment or condemnation. On the contrary, in a decade when homosexuals were outlawed and demonized, Pym represents them sympathetically and their lifestyle as a legitimate and somewhat intriguing choice.

Wolfgang Iser (1926-2007) is author of The Implied Reader: Patterns of Communication of in Prose Fiction from Bunyan to Beckett (1974); The Act of Reading: A Theory of Aesthetic Response (1978); Lawrence Sterne’s Tristram Shandy (1985); Walter Pater: The Aesthetic Moment (1987); Prospecting: From Reader Response to Literary Anthropology (1989); The Fictive and the Imaginary: Charting Literary Anthropology (1993), The Range of Interpretation (2000), and How to Do Theory (2006).

Updated in December 2007

The category of narrative space, which was side-stepped by classical narratology and narrative theory in general, has recently become a center of interest for a growing number of literary scholars. Using Bakhtin’s insights with regard to the “interconnectedness” of spatial and temporal relations in literature, the paper attempts to define a category of a “negative” chronotope which structures trauma narratives, suppressing time and foregrounding space. Ida Fink’s short story “traces” serves as an example for the workings of such a chronotope.

The relationship between a critic and a living writer, these "opposite shareholders" of the same art, can lead to scenarios of all sorts. In her introduction to A Glance beyond Doubt: Narration, Representation, Subjectivity, Shlomith Rimmon-Kenan states that she “endeavor(s) to theorize through literature, to use the novels as, in some sense, the source of theory,” and that this process “can be seen as a fruitful dialogue or interaction between literature and theory.” My long friendship with Shlomith Rimmon-Kenan was indeed such a privileged, on-going interaction.

In the core of our multi-layered relationship lies the shared belief in narrative structures as an unveiling of consciousness and as a powerful means of its shaping. The tumultuous Israeli reality, the loaded Jewish legacy, and not least the changing circumstances of life and disease all kept challenging our notion of narrative. In the intimacy of our “laboratory” I would bring my novels and my writing-dialogue with literary genres, with sacred texts, or with CNN snapshots, and she would be the ideal performative reader. At the same time, Shlomith Rimmon-Kenan’s deep theoretical considerations culminating in her revelatory exposure of illness narratives were for me a constant source of artistic inspiration, and a stirring reminder of the responsibility of narratives as an access to a changing self and world.

Alice Munro’s “Prue” (1984) is a formally innovative short story that eschews epiphany or any other sign of change or movement on the part of its protagonist and that nevertheless offers its audience a highly moving experience. I attempt to account for the story’s effective unconventionality by examining the interrelations between its form and its ethical dimension. I locate those interrelations in the interactions of narrative judgment and narrative progression. More specifically, I identify three main kinds of narrative judgment — interpretive, ethical, and aesthetic, and their connections to three main kinds of progression — those we associate with narrativity, lyricality, and what I call portraiture.  Portraiture is a mode, familiar in the dramatic monologues of Browning, in which the main goal is the representation of character. By examining the interaction of judgment and progression in “Prue,” I argue that it is both a highly successful hybrid form, one that synthesizes narrativity and portraiture, and that this understanding leads us to its ethical dimension. I close with some observations about larger implications of the analysis for our understanding of both other hybrid forms and the utility of this rhetorical approach to form and ethics.

Leon Trotsky’s account of his birth and childhood in his autobiography reverses the pattern of Freud’s “family romance.” If, according to this pattern, when the child fantasizes that his parents are not his real parents, the fantasy entails the image of the “real parents” as being of higher social standing, the symbolic undercurrents of Trotsky’s autobiography, implicitly downgrade his Jewish wealthy-farmer father and replace his actual origins by a transnational proletarian affiliation, more exalted in terms of his ideology. 

The Conservationist is widely regarded as constituting a transition in Nadine Gordimer’s work, from her earlier realistic fiction with its detached stance to the kind of prose which has earned her a respected place as an engaged African writer: fully identified with the materials she is dealing with and, through the delineation of her protagonist, Mehring, exposing the inevitable demise of the white capitalist class in South Africa and the reclamation of the land by the blacks. Moreover, her shift to a more experimental technique, and especially the use of stream of consciousness, has been seen as one of the markers of that transition. Through a close analysis of Mehring’s internal monologue, this paper aims to show that embedded in her prose there can still be found a universalist humanist quest for wholeness which is not subsumed in the ideological and political reading and which exists side by side with it, thus making for a more complex, richer reading.

Following Aristotle’s Rhetoric, the figure of the “enthymeme” is understood as a syllogism in which one of the premises is missing or non-valid. Much of the wit of Sterne’s Tristram Shandy is based on this figure, and in Stuart Gilbert’s scheme, the technique of the Aeolus episode on Joyce’s Ulysses is listed as “Enthymemic.” But are there narrative phenomena that can be regarded as enthymemes? The paper argues that the notion of the enthymeme is a useful tool for the analysis of reference and signification. In Joyce’s “The Sisters,” in particular, it is a mechanism through which the external and the internal fields of reference enrich each other.

Leona Toker, editor of Partial Answers, is Professor Emerita in the English Department of the Hebrew University of Jerusalem. She is the author of Nabokov: The Mystery of Literary Structures (1989), Eloquent Reticence: Withholding Information in Fictional Narrative (1993), Return from the Archipelago: Narratives of Gulag Survivors (2000), Towards the Ethics of Form in Fiction: Narratives of Cultural Remission (2010), and articles on English, American, and Russian writers. She is the editor of Commitment in Reflection: Essays in Literature and Moral Philosophy (1994); and co-editor of Rereading Texts / Rethinking Critical Presuppositions: Essays in Honour of H.M. Daleski  (1996) and of Knowledge and Pain (2012). Her book Gulag Literature and the Literature of Nazi Camps: An Inter-Contextual Reading is coming out in the fall of 2019.

As with most narratives of catastrophe, the touchstone and point of departure of the narratives of persecution is a state of equilibrium disrupted by an act of violence. Persecution is a disruption of the normal orbit of history and the rituals of any given social body of social state of mind. In a passage from his major post-World War I novel A Guest for the Night (1939), which predicts World War II and the Holocaust, S. Agnon describes this transition from normalcy to the insecure state of the victims of a historical catastrophe.

            Agnon confronts the potentially idyllic normal narrative of bourgeois and Jewish life with the real state of affairs after the catastrophe: the narrative of normalcy is disrupted by the crisis of war and persecution. The time gets out of joint, and life ceases to accommodate the major stations of the process of human change. The narrative has two permanent actants: the persecutor (singular or plural) as victimizer and the persecuted (singular or plural) as victim. The struggle between them creates a diversity of typologies of persecution, but basically it is the conflict between the powerful and the weak. The moral evaluation of the two sides is not uniform. The cat-and-mouse game is not the only legitimate plot; the conflict can be ambiguous – when, for instance the so-called criminal and an innocent victim are one (Jean Valjean in Hugo’s Les Misérables). In some instances the same plot could be interpreted differently by different witnesses: the representative of justice can be justified by one party and accused of cruelty and injustice by another. Shylock in The Merchant of Venice provides a good example of the diversity of interpretations in different times and under different social circumstances. The archetypes of Cain and Ahasuerus, traditionally understood as the fugitive victims of their sins, were reinterpreted as positively by Byron and Stephan Heym. This paper examines the different aspects of the topos and narrative of persecution.

Born in Vienna, Gershon Shaked (1929-2006) was Professor at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem and one of the leading experts on Hebrew literature. 

Assuming that the “ontological homogeneity” principle is inherent to the literary work and that the fictionalization of literary referents is its logical derivation, I have coined the concept of “pseudo-real referents” and I show how these referents function in two contemporary Chilean novels: Santa María de las flores negras [Holy Mary of the Black Flowers], by Hernán Rivera Letelier, a text that is consistent with an “aesthetics of totality,” and Amuleto [Amulet], by Roberto Bolaño, a work that on some levels displays an “aesthetic of decentralization or instability.”

In the aftermath of 9/11, dystopian nightmare has become a fact, no longer a cautionary tale of the imagination. But fantasy of destruction is embedded in Western culture, and apocalyptic disaster becomes a re-visioning of familiar cultural paradigms and scenarios. Indeed, postwar America as satirized by Don DeLillo was a site of catastrophe before the planes struck the WTC. The attacks on New York can be seen against the background of postmodern aesthetic theory expounded by Jean Baudrillard and Paul Virilio. Frédéric Beigbeder, Ian McEwan, and Jonathan Safran Foer respond to 9/11 in novels that grapple with the implications of that event and its aftermath for representation and for the novel form. What 9/11 has shown is that the relation of the real and the imagined in dystopian fiction has been reversed, as both lived experience and hypermediated image.