Intertextuality and Urtextuality: Sade™s Justine Palimpsest
Transcription
Intertextuality and Urtextuality: Sade™s Justine Palimpsest
Intertextuality and Urtextuality: Sade’s Justine Palimpsest Will McMorran O nly relatively recently have all three incarnations of Sade’s story of Justine become available in print at the same time, and this availability raises a number of new issues for the prospective reader. Although Michel Delon’s Pléiade edition accommodates all three within a single volume, inviting the reader to begin with Les Infortunes de la vertu, continue with Justine, ou les Malheurs de la vertu, and end with La Nouvelle Justine, ou les Malheurs de la vertu , few readers, other than those engaged in academic research or with a particular enthusiasm for Sade, will ever read more than one of the three “Justines.” No single, authoritative text subordinates the others, and a strong sense of textual instability consequently permeates each of the variations of Justine’s story. Sade reverses the direction of the typical writing process: text reverts to paratext, finished article reverts to rough draft as one version is consumed by the next. Nor does La Nouvelle Justine mark the end of this evolutionary narrative. A copy of La Nouvelle Justine seized by police in 1801, and covered in authorial annotations, suggests the beginning of a process that would have led, as Delon puts it, to a “nouvelle Nouvelle Justine, comme si ce texte était infiniment voué à la réécriture.”1 The three versions of the Justine story offer three snapshots of a text in flux, written to be written over, and which ends only 1 Michel Delon, introduction to vol. 2 of Sade, Œuvres, ed. Delon, 3 vols. (Paris: Gallimard, 1990–98), 2:xiv. E I G H T E E N T H - C E N T U R Y F I C T I O N 19, no. 4 (Summer 2007) © ECF 0840-6286 368 ECF 19:4 MCMORRAN to begin again. The figure of the palimpsest, adopted by Gérard Genette in his studies in intertextuality, seems to represent perfectly this process of rewriting undertaken by Sade. Genette invokes “la vieille image du palimpseste , où l’on voit, sur le même parchemin, un texte se superposer à un autre qu’il ne dissimule pas tout à fait, mais qu’il laisse voir par transparence.”2 Genette uses the palimpsest, or hypertext, in relation to what he classes as a “littérature au second degré” that includes parodies, pastiches, adaptations, and continuations of existing “hypotexts.” While he suggests that hypertexts can offer prequels, sequels, or lacunaefilling additions to an existing hypotext, he does not allude to the kind of rewriting that Sade undertakes in the Justine narratives, which in many ways seems to conform more closely than any other to the figure of the palimpsest. Curiously, it is Les 120 Journées de Sodome, not the Justine narratives, that has previously attracted the label of palimpsest. Delon, in the Pléiade edition of Les 120 Journées, observes, “la réapparition, d’une partie à l’autre, de certaines figures, selon une méthode comparable à celle des personnages récurrents dont Balzac fera systématiquement usage, tend à superposer les quatre parties comme quatre versions d’une même histoire, quatre moments d’un palimpseste dont les gazes seraient progressivement levées pour atteindre une idéale nudité du texte, un impossible absolu de la cruauté et de la souffrance.”3 This article makes the case for exploring the three Justine narratives, rather than Les 120 Journées, as a palimpsest, and examines the questions of primacy, originality, and authorship posed by this highly unusual form of intertextuality. Although striptease, as Roland Barthes noted, is striking for its absence in Sadean fiction, Delon’s striptease narrative is suggestive here: it echoes Sade’s own use of the imagery of voile and gaze , but more importantly for this article it offers an interpretive model for the complex shifts in narration and focalization that take place from one version of the palimpsest to the next. Editors as Authors The same textual instability that allows for the creation of the Justine palimpsest also undermines the very status of one of its 2 3 Gérard Genette, Palimpsestes: La littérature au second degré (Paris: Seuil, 1982), 556. Delon, in Sade, Œuvres, 2:1125. INTERTEXTUALITY AND URTEXTUALITY 369 three texts as a text in its own right. Les Infortunes de la vertu, the first version of Justine’s story, only definitively acquires textual as well as paratextual status long after the arrival of the other two versions with its publication by Maurice Heine in 1930. It is both the first to be written and the last to be recognized as an autonomous text, and although its emergence has provided a significant addition to the Sadean oeuvre, it has not assumed the mantle of the definitive text—originality has not given it pre-eminence over its competitors. Just as La Nouvelle Justine cannot erase its predecessors, Les Infortunes cannot efface its successors; it is both urtext and text, a source as well as a product. The primacy effect (a term borrowed from cognitive psychology) plays a crucial role here, but not the one that it is typically associated with in studies of narrative. The primacy effect has in the past been invoked to describe the way in which the reader’s memory of a narrative will privilege the first impression made by the early stages of that narrative.4 This effect, however, need not be limited to a single narrative, but may be observed in the manner in which the reader’s reception of a series of texts will privilege the first text in the series. The reader with no knowledge of Justine or La Nouvelle Justine will read Les Infortunes as a text; a reading informed by the later texts is by contrast likely to perceive or invest urtextual qualities in Les Infortunes . For Guillaume Apollinaire, reading Les Infortunes after Justine, and reading it moreover in the form of an unpublished original manuscript as opposed to a published text, the order of reading has evidently influenced his response: “J’ai sous les yeux le manuscrit original [...] de la première version de Justine , le premier jet, le premier brouillon de cet ouvrage avec toutes ses ratures.”5 The emphasis is on Les Infortunes as a beginning rather than an end, a first draft of a later, definitive version. The over-determining telos for Apollinaire’s reading of Les Infortunes is provided by his prior reading of Justine, and the former text thus always seems to him to be aiming at the latter. The fact that Les Infortunes is only a manuscript while Justine is a published text at this point no doubt reinforces this retrospective and retroactive view, according to which the 4 5 See Manakhem Perry, “Literary Dynamics: How the Order of a Text Creates Its Meaning,” Poetics Today 1 (1979): 35–64; and Emma Kafelenos, “Not (Yet) Knowing: Epistemological Effects of Deferred and Suppressed Information in Narrative” in Narratologies: Perspectives on Narrative Analysis, ed. David Herman (Columbus: Ohio State University Press, 1999), 56–60. L’Œuvre du Marquis de Sade, ed. Guillaume Apollinaire (Paris: Bibliothèque des curieux, 1909), 21. 370 ECF 19:4 MCMORRAN manuscript connotes a paratextual phase of preparation while the published work constitutes a definitive end to the preparation. In a figurative as well as in a literal sense, the publication of Les Infortunes is what makes it a text of its own as well as a draft for another. This is confirmed by the comments of Heine, the editor of the first edition of Les Infortunes : the creator of the text—the first person to read it as a publishable text—is the first to recognize the double life he has created: “Le manuscrit des Infortunes de la vertu tient également lieu de brouillon pour Les Malheurs de la vertu.”6 The form Les Infortunes has taken as a printed text has also been teleologically influenced by an awareness of its successors. The version Delon offers of Les Infortunes in his Pléaide edition is, for example, determined by the collection of all three texts within the same volume: “Comme nous pouvons regrouper dans un même volume les formes successives prises par l’histoire de Justine [...] nous avons opté pour un retour plus scrupuleux au premier jet, matériau brut, parfois plus brutal qu’on l’a dit, que l’auteur a eu à cœur ensuite de polir stylistiquement, en même temps qu’il en élargissait et développait le propos.”7 Editors of single-work editions of Les Infortunes have conversely incorporated some of the corrections to the manuscript made by Sade in his preparation of the text of Justine . In so doing they have been guided, Delon suggests of Heine at least, by “un souci littéraire et une volonté apologétique” that further blurs the already indistinct line between Les Infortunes and Justine : by a curious inversion the second text thus appears to influence the first by its impact upon the editorial process.8 Ironically, Delon’s inclusion of the later texts within the same covers keeps them from encroaching too far upon the text of Les Infortunes . He thus notably includes in his edition Rodin’s extraction of two of Justine’s teeth and amputation of two of her toes, an episode omitted from the editions of Heine, and more recently those of Jean Marie Goulemot and Béatrice Didier. While Delon’s approach distinguishes his text from those of previous editors, he shares their perception of Les Infortunes as a primitive, raw version of what is to come.9 The temptation to impose 6 7 8 9 Maurice Heine, preface to Les Infortunes de la vertu by Sade (Paris: Fourcade, 1930), reprinted in the Œuvres complètes du marquis de Sade, 15 vols., 2nd ed. (Paris: Cercle du livre précieux, 1966–67), 14:322. Delon, in Sade, Œuvres, 2:1133. Delon, in Sade, Œuvres, 2:1133. Gilbert Lély confirms this view when he observes: “Heine est parvenu à dégager avec la INTERTEXTUALITY AND URTEXTUALITY 371 an evolutionary narrative upon this sequence of texts is apparently irresistible, although the sequence may just as easily be read as a narrative of decline, as an ostensibly civilized veneer peels away to reveal the naked savagery of the final text. The difference in editorial approaches to the establishment of Les Infortunes provides a reminder of the instrumental role played by a figure often forgotten in discussions of literary transactions between author, text, and reader. The editor, who is generally relegated to the role of midwife, delivering a fully formed text into the world rather than giving it shape himself, arguably rivals Sade as the author of Les Infortunes. Instead of authors masquerading as editors, a common topos of the French eighteenth-century novel (including, as we shall see below, La Nouvelle Justine), we here find editors with pretensions of authorship. As Delon observes, “Le texte des Infortunes de la vertu n’a jamais été publié du vivant de Sade. Son établissement même reste hypothétique, puisque nous possédons, dans les collections de la Bibliothèque nationale, un manuscrit de travail [...] abondamment corrigé, et qui superpose une première version du conte et plusieurs strates de corrections et additions.”10 It is the editor, not the author, who decisively transforms the manuscript of Les Infortunes into a text. While he adds no words of his own, the paratext of authorial notes and alterations becomes a collage from which he assembles and therefore institutes the text he desires. The selective editorial use of the notes made by Sade in the course of writing Justine further erodes any sense of Les Infortunes as a stable text, and each new edition thus appears as a less than definitive version of another less than definitive version of the Justine story, although the Pléiade edition has the distinct merit of refusing the temptation to make evaluative editorial choices on the basis of Sade’s notes. Delon’s striptease narrative offers an intriguing model in more than one way for an exploration of the “three Justines.” It could be applied to the editorial process by which, for example, Les Infortunes has been stripped of all its layers of corrections and ratures to reveal the original text. One could extend the analogy to include Justine and La Nouvelle Justine as further veils concealing the naked and primitive Infortunes. Or, in line with the kind of narrative model Delon suggests dernière rigueur la version primitive de Justine.” Lély, Vie du marquis de Sade, 2 vols. (Paris: Cercle du livre précieux, 1966), 2:477–78. 10 Delon, in Sade, Œuvres, 2:1133. 372 ECF 19:4 MCMORRAN for Les 120 Journées , Les Infortunes and Justine might constitute layers to be stripped away to reveal the naked ideal of La Nouvelle Justine, or at least an ideal to which La Nouvelle Justine comes closer than its predecessors. According to this scheme, the first text to be written is the first layer to be removed, and the palimpsest therefore reveals a chronology that reverses that of its own composition, but parallels the progress of the reader who begins with Les Infortunes and ends with La Nouvelle Justine . If, as a progressive narrative, the striptease is as vulnerable here to reversal as the evolutionary model mentioned above, this is itself revealing of the peculiar qualities of the Justine palimpsest (of Les Infortunes, Justine , and La Nouvelle Justine ) and the game of origins and endings that it invites.11 In a manner that ironically anticipates the editorial interference that will eventually lead to the publication of the “unauthorized” Infortunes, La Nouvelle Justine strikingly offers itself as a rival point of origin for the palimpsest: Le manuscrit original d’un ouvrage qui, tout tronqué, tout défiguré qu’il était, avait néanmoins obtenu plusieurs éditions, entièrement épuisées aujourd’hui, nous étant tombé dans les mains, nous nous empressons de le donner au public tel qu’il a été conçu par son auteur, qui l’écrivit en 1788. Un infidèle ami, à qui ce manuscrit fut confié pour lors, trompant la bonne foi et les intentions de cet auteur, qui ne voulait pas que son livre fût imprimé de son vivant, en fit un extrait qui a paru sous le titre simple de Justine ou les Malheurs de la Vertu, misérable extrait bien au dessous de l’original, et qui fut constamment désavoué par celui dont l’énergique crayon a dessiné la Justine et sa sœur que l’on va voir ici [...] Nous certifions, au reste, que dans cette édition tout est absolument conforme à l’original que nous possédons seul.12 Sade is here author, editor, and unfaithful friend. In contrast to his denial of the authorship of Justine on apparently moral grounds in the Idées sur le roman, there is a partial avowal. The authorship of Justine is no longer refuted, but the published text is presented as a truncated version that betrays the author’s original artistic vision. With Les Infortunes absent from the scenario, and Justine discredited, 11 12 Though concerning a different heroine, the Histoire de Juliette might be included as part of the palimpsest, because it adds an interpolation and an ending to La Nouvelle Justine . Sade, La Nouvelle Justine, ou les Malheurs de la vertu (1797), in Œuvres, ed. Delon, 2:393–94. References are to this edition, cited as NJ. References to Sade, Les Infortunes de la vertu (I), which was composed in 1787, and Justine, ou les Malheurs de la vertu (J), which was published in 1791, are also from vol. 2 of this edition. INTERTEXTUALITY AND URTEXTUALITY 373 the “editor” seeks to establish La Nouvelle Justine as the authoritative text. Originality is apparently a prerequisite of this claim to legitimacy, and Sade therefore attributes to it a date prior to the publication of Justine in 1791 (although a year later than the completion of Les Infortunes manuscript in 1787). Rather than confirm that La Nouvelle Justine is an amplification of Justine , Sade prefers to present the latter as an unauthorized extract of a complete text. Nevertheless, the link between the two texts is crucial to the marketing of this new (but ostensibly old) and exclusive “uncut” version, with Justine providing a teaser for the real thing.13 In contrast to the modern reading public, who may choose between all three available versions of Justine’s story but are unlikely to choose more than one, the reader apparently implied by this branding exercise is the former reader of Justine , whose appetite for more the editorial persona here promises to satisfy. Veiling and Unveiling While it has often been said that Sade wanted to say everything, Justine is, as a narrator in Les Infortunes and Justine , caught between wanting to move her audience and not wanting to reveal why they should be moved. Her attempts to implement a storytelling contract as old as the Odyssey—the exchange of a stranger’s story for a host’s hospitality and protection—may appear masochistic in a fictional universe virtually devoid of reciprocity. Her ordeals offer a catastrophic counterpoint to the experiences of an earlier orpheline , Marivaux’s Marianne, who enacts the same charitable model with contrasting success and transforms a succession of avid listeners into benefactors and benefactresses. With few exceptions in any versions of the Justine palimpsest, the typical response provoked by Justine’s tale of woe in her succession of male narratees is rape.14 She is both a compulsive and reluctant storyteller, desperate in her appeals to her listeners and ashamed at the role of historienne that she has to assume. Instead of attributing this to a masochistic impulse, 13 14 As John Phillips observes, “the new title has a ring of authorial pride about it and is clearly designed to maximise sales … and there are impertinent parodic echoes of Rousseau’s La Nouvelle Héloïse .” Phillips, Sade: The Libertine Novels (London: Pluto Press, 2001), 101. The only notably sympathetic audiences that Justine stumbles across in the course of her journey (other than Juliette and Corville in Les Infortunes and Justine) are Dubreuil, who figures in all three versions, and Mme Delisle, an innkeeper in La Nouvelle Justine . Both of these characters are predictably murdered for this transgression of Sadean inhospitality. 374 ECF 19:4 MCMORRAN as one might in a realist context, the reader is more likely to regard Justine as compelled rather than compulsive, the victim of her author as she is of her listeners. Accordingly, the contrary impulses of withholding and revealing may well be assigned by the reader to the narrator’s pudeur and the author’s libertinage respectively. The balance between the two may be seen to shift from Les Infortunes to Justine in a way that foreshadows Justine’s loss of voice in La Nouvelle Justine , as the reader increasingly perceives Justine as the puppet in an unconvincing act of narrative ventriloquism. In Les Infortunes, Justine seeks permission to limit the description of her initiation ceremony in Sainte-Marie-des Bois: “Vous me permettrez, madame, dit notre belle prisonnière en rougissant prodigieusement ici, de vous déguiser une partie des détails obscènes qui s’observèrent à cette première cérémonie” (I, 61). A curtain is ostensibly drawn to shield both the narrator and the listener from obscenity. In Justine , the curtain has already thinned to a veil, transparent enough to offer a glimpse of debauchery to her audience: Vous me permettrez, madame, dit notre belle prisonnière en rougissant, de vous déguiser une partie des détails obscènes de cette odieuse cérémonie; que votre imagination se représente tout ce que la débauche peut en tel cas dicter à des scélérats; qu’elle les voie successivement passer de mes compagnes à moi, comparer, rapprocher, confronter, discourir, et elle n’aura vraisemblablement encore qu’une faible idée de ce qui s’exécuta dans ces premières orgies bien légères sans doute, en comparaison de toutes les horreurs que j’allais bientôt éprouver. (J, 233–34) Justine still blushes, if not quite as much, but the invitation to the imagination of her audience is barely hidden beneath the thin pretence of censorship. She reveals where her stated aim is to conceal, first offering the image of the monks examining her and her companions, then a hint of the greater atrocities that lie ahead. The narrator’s grim prolepsis simultaneously reads like an authorial promise. It is moreover striking that Justine here, as elsewhere in both Les Infortunes and Justine , directs her story to Mme de Lorsange instead of M. de Corville—understandable, perhaps, given the typical response of her previous male narratees. The storytelling situation creates a double case of narrative transvestism, as both narrator and narratee appear as the barely concealed male author and reader in disguise. INTERTEXTUALITY AND URTEXTUALITY 375 The reader who is expecting the removal of Justine as a narrator in the transition from Justine to La Nouvelle Justine to entail the stripping of all veils and the filling of all gaps may be surprised to find the same rhetoric of voile and gaze in the latter text. The tension between revealing and concealing that characterizes the earlier incarnations of the Justine palimpsest is not erased by the change of narratorial voice. As John Phillips has observed, Sade builds “areas of secrecy” into his third-person narratives as part of a process of “self-censorship.”15 In La Nouvelle Justine , the former narrator’s constraining pudeur apparently gives way to a more pragmatically motivated restraint so that the reader should not be overwhelmed, or even bored, by the seemingly endless succession of scenes and tableaux he encounters. Here, as in Les 120 Journées (which also has its petits cabinets), textual gaps are represented spatially as the reader is denied admittance to a cabinet in Sainte-Marie-des-Bois: Ici Sévérino qui bandait ferme fut tenté d’un charmant giton de treize ans, dont les fesses ruisselaient de sang. Il le saisit, passe avec lui dans un cabinet, et le ramène, au bout d’un quart d’heure, dans un tel état, que l’assemblée resta convaincue que le supérieur venait, suivant son usage avec les garçons, d’employer des épisodes si cruels, que le jeune homme pourrait bien n’en pas relever. Jérôme, à l’exemple du supérieur, avait de même isolé ses plaisirs: il avait entraîné Aurore, et une autre fille de dix-sept ans, fort jolie, et les avait soumises, l’une et l’autre, à des humiliations si désespérantes, à des actes de férocité si monstrueux, que toutes deux furent encore remportées dans leurs chambres. Tous les yeux se portèrent alors sur les deux victimes. Qu’on nous permette de jeter un voile sur les atrocités qui terminèrent ces exécrables orgies. Notre plume serait insuffisante à les peindre, et nos lecteurs trop compatissants pour les écouter de sang-froid. Qu’ils se contentent de savoir que les supplices durèrent six heures, pendant lesquelles tout ce que la cruauté put imaginer de plus féroce fut employé, mêlé d’épisodes lascifs, d’un tel genre de monstruosité, que jamais les Nérons ni les Tibères ne purent rien inventer de semblable. (NJ, 813) The narrator’s ostensible concern for his reader here recalls that of Justine for Juliette and Corville, and is similarly open to ironic interpretation. There is a charade of bienséance as the details of what happens offstage in the cabinets are elided, and the curtains are then drawn across the main stage of the orgy.16 Sade’s side-rooms, whether 15 16 See Phillips, “Sade and Self-Censorship,” Paragraph 23 (2000): 108; and his earlier “Sade in the Corridor,” Nottingham French Studies 37, no. 2 (1998): 26–36. See Peter Cryle’s discussion of Sade’s use of ellipsis, and the theatrical curtain as a narrative metaphor, in chap. 5 of The Telling of the Act: Sexuality as Narrative in Eighteenth- and 376 ECF 19:4 MCMORRAN in the Silling of Les 120 Journées or in the Sainte-Marie-des-Bois of La Nouvelle Justine, reveal surprising limitations in their respective narrators that recall those of Justine. Whereas the narrator of Les 120 Journées is simply denied admittance from the cabinets in a manner that echoes the constraints of a first-person narrative, in La Nouvelle Justine the narrator has the access but not the power to express what he has seen. Peter Cryle describes the side-rooms of Silling as “a kind of narrative safety-valve” that allows “libertine behaviour of a kind that would be disproportionate in erotic intensity and perversity with the passions currently being rehearsed.”17 The episodic narrative of La Nouvelle Justine, however, does not share the overall scheme of controlled gradation that characterizes Les 120 Journées. Although there is a sense of escalation in the crimes committed against Justine up to the point at which she is raped by Saint-Florent, the same cannot be said of the remainder of the narrative. While the kind of intensification Cryle identifies may de detected within individual episodes in La Nouvelle Justine, the cabinet in Sainte-Marie-des-Bois cannot be said to perform the same function as its counterpart in Silling: it is not introduced at an early point in an orgy as a means of averting a premature narrative climax to the episode, but brings the description of the orgy to a close, as if the narrative were unable to sustain the intensity shown by the monks themselves, who continue their torture for another six hours. The same impression is given a little later, when an orgy led by Verneuil in Gernande’s mansion ends in a decidedly cursory fashion, and with an explanatory footnote: Verneuil encule son fils, qui, comme on vient de le dire, foutait Dorothée; Bressac fout son oncle; John sodomise Bressac; Marceline fouette ... encourage tous les acteurs de cette furibonde orgie, qui ne se ralentit que pour prendre de nouvelles formes, et pour se prolonger jusqu’au lever de l’astre qui devait éclairer enfin la séparation de ces scélérats.* * “On dit mieux les choses en les supprimant” (écrit La Mettrie quelque part); “on irrite les désirs, en aiguillonnant la curiosité de l’esprit sur un objet en partie couvert, qu’on ne devine pas encore, et qu’on veut avoir l’honneur de deviner.” Tels sont les motifs de la gaze que nous jetons sur les scènes que nous ne faisons qu’annoncer (NJ, 952) 17 Nineteenth-Century Narrative (London: Associated University Presses for University of Delaware Press, 2001). Cryle, 114. INTERTEXTUALITY AND URTEXTUALITY 377 Rather than the sense of a narrative pacing itself, along the lines of Cryle’s model, one has an impression of a narrative on the point of exhaustion, with the footnote an unconvincing rationalization of a fatigued imagination. Such a suspicion is confirmed when the secrets of the cabinets in Gernande’s mansion are revealed. Verneuil, crowned as the “autorité suprême” for an orgy and seated on “une espèce de trône,” makes the following ruling: “Si, pendant cette première tournée, dit Verneuil, il vous prend fantaisie de soumettre à des choses plus énergiques quelques-uns des objets qui vont s’offrir à vous, pour ne pas troubler l’ordre, vous irez à l’instant vous enfermer dans un cabinet; et votre passion une fois apaisée, vous ramènerez l’objet dans le cercle” (NJ, 906). The introduction of the side-rooms here appears at first to fit Cryle’s model well: the side-rooms are used at an early point in the orgy in order to defer scenes of disproportionate intensity. However, with Verneuil’s second ruling following the return of all from their respective rooms, the model collapses: Mes amis [...] comme l’aveu public des voluptés où l’on s’est livré ne peut que disposer à l’embrasement général des désirs, j’exige que chacun rende compte à haute voix, et le plus en détail possible, de toutes les luxures dans lesquelles il vient de se plonger. Parlez, Gernande; vos amis vous suivront: souvenez-vous surtout d’écarter les gazes, de peindre à nu, et d’employer tous les mots techniques. Gazons la vertu, si l’on veut; mais que le crime marche toujours à découvert. (NJ, 906) The concealment lasts only as long as it takes for Gernande’s guests, and Verneuil’s subjects, to return to the main room, but the secrets of the side-rooms prove, by Sadean standards, mundane. They are revealed, one is left to infer, because there is nothing particularly appalling to hide. Nevertheless, the banality of what is unveiled undermines the idea of the unwriteable that is suggested in the earlier cabinet episode in Sainte-Marie-des-Bois, suggesting instead that there is nothing behind the veil previously cast. While Phillips observes that these moments of ellipsis may be the deliberate ploy of a “consummate story-teller [who] has doubtless realized that every successful narrative contains elements of mystery,” he also persuasively argues that these may be read as symptomatic of an unconscious longing for what, in Lacanian terms, is the lost object of the mother’s body—“for Sade, the most hated of all bodies, the body that must be destroyed but cannot 378 ECF 19:4 MCMORRAN be described.”18 Phillips’s reading is compelling because it offers a more profound explanation for the narratorial declarations of ignorance than Cryle’s pragmatic approach, which unsatisfactorily reduces these to mere “Sadian whimsy.”19 It seems difficult, however, to reconcile these highly self-conscious moments of ellipsis with Phillips’s unconscious yearning. Sade, it seems to me, is very aware of what he is doing at such points, even if he may not be entirely in control. There is something almost Shandean in this regard of a narrator teetering on the brink of his own limitations, and, indeed, in the rhetoric that tends to accompany Sade’s use of the imagery of veiling and unveiling. Laurence Sterne’s Tristam Shandy, another narrator who wants to say everything but ends up saying much less, regularly drops a theatrical curtain across scenes when he has given up on making progress with them.20 Sade’s self-conscious intrusions into his narrative, in both his text and his footnotes, echo Sterne’s rhetoric of leaving something for the reader to imagine.21 In an authorial footnote, Sade observes, “Il y a sans doute beaucoup d’art à laisser ainsi des scènes sous le voile; mais combien de lecteurs avides et insatiables désireraient qu’on leur dise tout! Eh, Bon Dieu! si on les satisfait, que leur resterait-il donc à imaginer?” (NJ, 884). While there is a much clearer distinction to be made between Sterne and Tristram than that which more murkily operates between Sade and the narrator of La Nouvelle Justine , Sterne’s example suggests that the self-consciousness of La Nouvelle Justine is a playful solution to local imaginative crises. In these, the narrative requires a change of scene to engage afresh the author’s—and the reader’s—imagination. It appears that even Sade’s extraordinary sexual imagination had its limits, occasionally and temporarily leading him into dead ends that he resolved by moving onto the next scene. This indeed tallies with the insight into the writing process that an examination of the palimpsest reveals. 18 19 20 21 Phillips, Sade: The Libertine Novels, 108, 114. Cryle, 116. After failing for a number of chapters to get his father and uncle down a staircase, he notably performs a coup de théatre , dropping “a curtain at the stairs foot.” Laurence Sterne, The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman, ed. Melvyn and Joan New, 3 vols. (Gainesville: University of Florida Press, 1978–84), 3:343. He also repeatedly ends a chapter by dropping the curtain on a scene (see, for example, Sterne, 2:114, 169). “The truest respect which you can pay to the reader’s understanding, is to halve this matter amicably, and leave him something to imagine, in his turn, as well as yourself” (Sterne, 2:68). INTERTEXTUALITY AND URTEXTUALITY 379 If, for most of us, the process of rewriting seems laborious, for Sade it appears to have been a labour of love, or rather lust. In the Histoire de Juliette , the heroine offers her pupil in libertinage , Mme de Donis, advice on desiring beyond one’s means: N’est-il pas vrai, ma belle amie, que vous avez déjà trouvé vos désirs bien supérieurs à vos moyens [...] Je connais cet état affreux, il fait le malheur de mes jours; quoi qu’il en soit, voici mon secret.* *Soyez quinze jours entiers sans vous occuper de luxures, distrayez-vous, amusez-vous d’autre chose; mais jusqu’au quinzième ne laissez pas même d’accès aux idées libertines. Cette époque venue, couchez-vous seule, dans le calme, dans le silence et dans l’obscurité la plus profonde; rappelez-vous là tout ce que vous avez banni depuis cet intervalle, et livrez-vous mollement et avec nonchalance à cette pollution légère par laquelle personne ne sait s’irriter ou irriter les autres comme vous. Donnez ensuite à votre imagination la liberté de vous présenter, par gradation, différentes sortes d’égarements; parcourez-les toutes en détail; passez-les successivement en revue; persuadez-vous bien que toute la terre est à vous ... que vous avez le droit de changer, mutiler, détruire, bouleverser tous les êtres que bon vous semblera. Vous n’avez rien à craindre là: choisissez ce qui vous fait plaisir, mais plus d’exception, ne supprimez rien; nul égard pour qui que ce soit; qu’aucun lien ne vous captive; qu’aucun frein ne vous retienne; laissez à votre imagination tous les frais de l’épreuve, et surtout ne précipitez pas vos mouvements; que votre main soit aux ordres de votre tête et non de votre tempérament. Sans vous en apercevoir, des tableaux variés que vous aurez fait passer devant vous, un viendra vous fixer plus énergiquement que les autres, et avec une telle force, que vous ne pourrez plus l’écarter ni le remplacer. L’idée, acquise par le moyen que je vous indique, vous dominera, vous captivera; le délire s’emparera de vos sens, et vous croyant déjà à l’œuvre, vous déchargerez comme une Messaline. Dès que cela sera fait, rallumez vos bougies, et transcrivez sur vos tablettes l’espèce d’égarement qui vient de vous enflammer, sans oublier aucune des circonstances qui peuvent en avoir aggravé les détails; endormez-vous sur cela, relisez vos notes le lendemain, et en recommençant votre opération, ajoutez tout ce que votre imagination, un peu blasée sur une idée qui vous a déjà coûté du foutre, pourra vous suggérer de capable d’en augmenter l’irritation. Formez maintenant un corps de cette idée, et, en la mettant au net, ajoutez-y de nouveau tous les épisodes que vous conseillera votre tête. Commettez ensuite, et vous éprouverez que tel est l’écart qui vous convient le mieux, et que vous exécuterez avec le plus de délices. Mon secret, je le sens, est un peu scélérat, mais il est sûr, et je ne vous le conseillerais pas si je n’en avais éprouvé le succès.22 22 Sade, Œuvres, 3:753. 380 ECF 19:4 MCMORRAN As Lucienne Frappier-Mazur has observed, “Le caractère autobiographique de cette ‘recette’ ne ferait aucun doute, même si une note en bas de page, attribuée au scripteur, ou à Sade, ne l’accompagnait.”23 While this passage has attracted considerable commentary, no critic has noted its obvious pertinence to the writing and rewriting of the Justine story.24 Like the palimpsest, it reveals, as Barthes observes, an essentially cumulative process of composition.25 The libertine author becomes his own reader, and his reading, punctuated crucially by periods in which he removes himself from his material, allows him to supplement his original text. In the Justine palimpsest, the casting of a veil, either to ease the monotony of a particular episode or to hint at unnameable horrors, provides a break in the narrative—a change that is as good as a rest to its author’s imagination, and an opportunity for the next phase of the palimpsest to exploit. The Rape of the Text It is striking that Sade does not simply limit himself to the natural spaces and lacunae of the former version when he is writing the next version of the palimpsest according to the striptease model outlined above, but also chooses to engineer and fill new gaps of his own.26 Rape, rather than striptease, offers a more appropriate analogy for these moments in which La Nouvelle Justine in particular forces itself with increasing violence upon the text of its antecedents. An example of this is aptly enough provided by Sade’s addition of a rape scene 23 24 25 26 Frappier-Mazur, Sade et l’écriture de l’orgie (Paris: Nathan université, 1991), 91. The footnote in question reads: “Toutes les personnes qui ont quelque penchant au crime voient leur portrait dans ce paragraphe; qu’elles profitent donc soigneusement de tout ce qui précède, et de tout ce qui suit, sur la manière de vivre délicieusement dans la genre de vie pour lequel les a créées la nature, et qu’elles se persuadent que la main qui donne ces avis a l’expérience pour elle” (Œuvres, 3:752). Frappier-Mazur describes the passage only within the immediate context of the Histoire de Juliette . Among the other notable critical discussions of this passage are those in Roland Barthes, Sade, Fourier, Loyola (Paris: Seuil, 1971), 167–68; Marcel Hénaff, L’Invention du corps libertin (Paris: Presses universitaires de France, 1978), 102–11; and Annie Le Brun, Soudain un bloc d’abîme, Sade (Paris: Pauvert, 1986), 300–2. Barthes argues that in “l’écriture sadienne la correction n’est jamais une rature, elle n’est pas castratrice, mais seulement augmentative” (168). The Histoire de Juliette contains some of the more extreme examples of this creation of new gaps in the palimpsest when Noirceuil is revealed as the murderer of the parents of Justine and Juliette (Œuvres, 3:310). There is a further twist when the Histoire de Juliette rewrites the parentage of the two sisters, transforming them into the products of an affair. Bernole, their real father, is introduced only to be seduced and murdered by Juliette (Œuvres, 3:594–602). INTERTEXTUALITY AND URTEXTUALITY 381 to the Bressac episode of the palimpsest. The calculated escalation that Sade seems so carefully to observe up to this point is abandoned here as Bressac’s rape of his mother is inserted as an isolated episode that reduces the impact of his matricide a few pages later. In Justine, Bressac’s anti-religious diatribe is followed by a pause (“Il y avait quatre ans que j’étais dans cette maison” [J, 187]) as the buildup to the episode’s climax, his matricide and savage assault of the heroine, begins. In La Nouvelle Justine , Bressac’s rape is inserted shortly after a now expanded tirade, but returns to the slightly amended thread of Justine’s narrative in the following chapter (“Il y avait deux ans que Justine était dans cette maison” [NJ, 499]). The narrative then proceeds as if no rape had taken place—it is a crisis with no aftermath, no repercussions in the ensuing narrative.27 Thus, when Mme de Bressac learns from Justine that her son is preparing to commit an atrocity against her, she assumes, as she did in Justine, that “il ne s’agissait ici que de quelques extravagances ordinaires à son fils” (NJ, 512). The earlier rape is irreconcilable with the “extravagances ordinaires” that La Nouvelle Justine inherits from Justine , as is Mme de Bressac’s disbelief that her son could be capable of such a crime against her. The wound opened in the narrative of La Nouvelle Justine by the inserted rape scene is not healed by its careful integration, but, untended, leaves a visible scar. Although La Nouvelle Justine appears at first to sew up the loose threads of Les Infortunes and Justine , closer inspection reveals that this process is not limited to filling in a mystically non-textual space in the text but writing over the text itself. It is thus not the case that in La Nouvelle Justine we find out what “really” happened to Mme de Bressac and Rosalie in Justine . Sade does not exploit the third-person voice to reveal all that Justine, as a first-person witness obliged to leave these characters behind, could not tell the reader in an earlier version. In La Nouvelle Justine , the conclusions to the Bressac and Rodin episodes are rewritten, and place Justine as a witness to the murder of both Mme de Bressac and Rosalie. Even though her services as a narrator are not required, her services as a witness continue to provide a focus to the narrative. When Henri Coulet, expressing a preference for Les Infortunes in his survey of 27 In this respect it resembles its heroine, whose remarkable powers of recovery are repeatedly called upon to erase the traces of her former torturers from her body. 382 ECF 19:4 MCMORRAN the Justine palimpsest, complains that Justine “n’est qu’une victime entre les autres”28 in La Nouvelle Justine , he fails to take into account her crucial double role: Justine is both focalizer and focalized on numerous occasions throughout the novel, a seeing subject as well as a watched object.29 She may be deprived of her voice, but her eyes and ears continue to determine a significant proportion of what the reader of La Nouvelle Justine is allowed to see and hear. In a scene that parallels the author’s elimination of Justine’s storytelling function, but his retention of her as a focalizer, Rosalie confides in her new ally but promises her to secrecy when she reveals an opportunity for eavesdropping upon her father: “On peut tout observer du cabinet de notre chambre, voisin de ses expéditions; rendons-nous-y sans bruit; et garde-toi surtout de jamais ouvrir la bouche de tout ce que je te dis et de tout ce que je te fais voir” [...] elle suit les pas de Rosalie, qui la place entre près d’une cloison assez mal jointe pour laisser, entre les planches qui la forment, un jour suffisant à distinguer et à entendre tout ce qui se dit et tout ce qui se fait dans la chambre voisine. (NJ, 524). The narrator then explicitly limits his description to Justine’s experience of the scene unfolding in the next room: “Nous allons rendre le compte le plus exact de tout ce qu’ils se disent, du moment où Justine put les entendre” (NJ, 524). While Justine is no longer the narrator, she is retained as the mediating point of view for the reader. Similarly, when Bressac leads Justine home following their initial encounter, the change effected by the transition from firstto third-person voice is minimal. The heroine in Justine tells her audience, “Jasmin et son maître causaient bas ensemble, et je les suivais humblement sans mot dire” (J, 178),30 but the narrator of La Nouvelle Justine states simply, “Jasmin et son maître causaient bas ensemble; Justine les suivait humblement” (NJ, 472). Whereas the reader here is no wiser than Justine as to the exchange between Bressac and his servant, this is not the case throughout La 28 29 30 Coulet, “La Vie intérieure dans Justine ,” in Le Marquis de Sade (Paris: Armand Colin, 1968), 93. Shlomith Rimmon-Kenan, following Genette, states that “The subject (the ‘focalizer’) is the agent whose perception orients the presentation, whereas the object (the ‘focalized’) is what the focalizer perceives.” Rimmon-Kenan, Narrative Fiction: Contemporary Poetics (London and New York: Methuen, 1983), 74. See also Genette, Figures III (Paris: Seuil, 1972); and Mieke Bal, Narratologie: Essais sur la signification narrative dans quatre romans modernes (Paris: Klinksieck, 1977). The equivalent passage in Les Infortunes is virtually identical (I, 28). INTERTEXTUALITY AND URTEXTUALITY 383 Nouvelle Justine . On several occasions Justine resembles the unwitting victim of a candid camera show, as the implied author and reader share a joke at her expense. Perhaps the most striking of these moments is her interview with Dom Sévérino. In the equivalent episode in Justine, she notices the monk’s interest is sexual rather than charitable, but not quickly enough; in the latter, she is no longer required as a witness: quelques mouvements, quelques paroles le trahirent pourtant: hélas, ce ne fut qu’après, que j’y réfléchis mieux; quand je fus plus calme sur cet événement, il me fut impossible de ne pas me souvenir que le moine s’était plusieurs fois permis sur lui-même plusieurs gestes qui prouvaient que la passion entrait pour beaucoup dans les demandes qu’il me faisait. (J, 227) Alors arriva dans l’église, par le chœur, un jeune garçon de quinze ans, de la plus jolie figure du monde, et vêtu d’une manière si indécente, que Justine en eût conçu quelque soupçon, si elle l’eût observé [...] si Justine eût été moins aveugle, aux mouvements du père, à ses soupirs entrecoupés, au bruit assez violent qu’il fit en courbant le jeune homme pour l’enculer, assurément elle eût cessé d’être dupe. (NJ, 594) The difficulty in the former passage is evident, as the first-person narrator is required to narrate an event without being wholly aware of it. Justine sees Sévérino masturbate, but only registers this retrospectively in order to make her entrance to the monastery appear credible. A gap is thus created in her consciousness, represented by quelques mouvements, then filled after the event by plusieurs gestes. The passage from La Nouvelle Justine fills the same gap in a different way, as masturbation gives way to concealed sodomy, and in so doing dramatically rewrites the original scene. Justine now provides a form of anti-focalizer, as the emphasis of the narrative shifts from what she saw to what she should have seen. The implausibility of her delayed perceptual decoding in Justine is pushed to a farcical extreme in La Nouvelle Justine , as Justine’s failure to notice Sévérino having sex with a boy is followed by her failure to notice his sexual assault on her own body as she offers penitence in the following scene: “Justine n’entend rien, ne voit rien, et se prosterne [...] son esprit était tellement élevé vers les choses célestes, que le bourreau l’eût déchirée, sans qu’elle eût seulement osé s’en plaindre” (NJ, 596). The emphasis is once again upon the failure of Justine’s ability to bear witness, as the narrative 384 ECF 19:4 MCMORRAN abandons her as a focalizer in order to retain her as the focalized object of the narrative. By drawing attention to the limitations of Justine’s powers of perception, the narrator of La Nouvelle Justine implies that Justine’s view of the world is compromised in a very basic manner by the problems she has viewing at all. The failure of her ideological position is thus attributed, according to a materialist logic, to a physical cause—because she cannot process what she sees, she cannot understand the world as it really is. This inability, the narrative suggests, is why she cannot learn from her experiences. Shlomith Rimmon-Kenan, in her study of narrative poetics, expresses reasonable concern at the limiting “optical-photographic connotations” of such terms as “perspective,” “point of view,” and indeed “focalization,” and argues instead for this “purely visual sense ... to be broadened to include cognitive, emotive and ideological orientation.”31 There are, however, good reasons in the case of the Justine palimpsest for limiting the sense of focalization precisely to its visual aspect. In La Nouvelle Justine , for example, it is entirely appropriate to limit the concepts of point of view and focalization to their optical or photographic connotations, for the reader sees what Justine does but not as she does. At certain moments, she captures the world in a way that recalls a camera rather than a human agent, as she relays images without being able to invest them with meaning.32 It is thus not simply when she is focalized that she is reduced to an object, but also at times when she is the focalizer. While the Justine narrating Les Infortunes and Justine may have just about enough psychological credibility to constitute a speaking subject, the Justine focalizing La Nouvelle Justine is often reduced to a seeing object. She possesses the perceptual but not the psychological or cognitive facets that Rimmon-Kenan attributes to the figure of the focalizer.33 On occasion, she is even deprived of her perceptual facet, as her temporal and spatial situation provides no more than an approximate marker for the insertion of the narrator’s own focalization. Thus, when Justine spends her first night in Sainte-Marie-des-Bois, the narrator seizes the opportunity to provide a more complete picture than the heroine’s limited perceptions could offer: “Continuons de peindre à grands traits: Justine se repose; les moines soupent; nous avons 31 32 33 Rimmon-Kenan, 71. Compare Suzanne’s descriptions of lesbianism throughout Diderot’s La Religieuse (1796). Rimmon-Kenan, 79–81. INTERTEXTUALITY AND URTEXTUALITY 385 le temps de finir quelques tableaux” (NJ, 603).34 Soon after, when Omphale briefs Justine on their directrice , Victorine, the narrator substitutes his own portrait: “Profitons du moment où Omphale met Justine au fait du caractère et de la figure et cette directrice, pour la peindre nous-mêmes au lecteur” (NJ, 632). The narrative thus respects the timing of the portrait offered by Omphale to Justine, but not the portrait itself. The narrator of La Nouvelle Justine, in exchanging his own focalization for that of Justine, makes explicit processes that remain implicit throughout the earlier versions, as Justine appears to see with the eyes of a libertine. The portrait of Mme de Gernande in Justine , a passage that attracts Coulet’s attention, demonstrates these processes clearly: Mme de Gernande, âgée de dix-neuf ans et demi, avait la plus belle taille, la plus noble, la plus majestueuse qu’il fût possible de voir, pas un de ces gestes, pas un de ses mouvements qui ne fût une grâce, pas un de ces regards qui ne fût un sentiment: ses yeux étaient du plus beau noir, quoiqu’elle fût blonde, rien n’égalait leur expression, mais une sorte de langueur, suite de ses infortunes, en en adoucissant l’éclat, les rendait mille fois plus intéressants; elle avait la peau très blanche, et les plus beaux cheveux, la bouche très petite, trop peut-être, j’eusse été peu surprise qu’on lui eût trouvé ce défaut [...] Ses bras, sa gorge, sa croupe, étaient d’un éclat ... d’une rondeur faits pour servir de modèle aux artistes; une mousse légère et noire couvrait le temple de Vénus, soutenu par deux cuisses moulées; et ce qui m’étonna, malgré la légèreté de la taille de la comtesse, malgré ses malheurs, rien n’altérait son embonpoint: ses fesses rondes et potelées étaient aussi charnues, aussi grasses, aussi fermes, que si sa taille eût été plus marquée et qu’elle eût toujours vécu au sein du bonheur. Il y avait pourtant sur tout cela d’affreux vestiges du libertinage de son époux, mais, je le répète, rien d’altéré ... l’image d’un beau lys où l’abeille a fait quelques tâches. (J, 294) As Coulet observes, “Justine peint les personnages, Mme de Gernande par exemple, tels que les libertins les voient, non pas tels qu’elle a 34 The same device is employed upon Justine’s arrival in Bandole’s chateau: “Pendant que [...] cette pauvre créature cherche à trouver un peu de repos au milieu des nouvelles horreurs qui l’environnent, développons ce qu’il faut qu’on sache de cette aventure, pour y prendre un peu d’intérêt” (NJ, 573). What is most striking about this self-conscious metalepsis is that it suggests another parallel with the early modern comic novel. In Jacques le fataliste et son maître , Diderot’s narrator also takes advantage of sleeping characters: “Tandis que Jaques et son maitre reposent, je vais m’acquitter de ma promesse, par le récit de l’homme de la prison, qui raclait de la basse, ou plutôt de son camarade, le sieur Gousse.” Diderot, Jaques le fataliste et son maitre, ed. Simone Lecointre and Jean Le Galliot (Paris: Droz, 1976), 120. 386 ECF 19:4 MCMORRAN pu les voir.”35 Although Justine does provide the point of view in a strictly visual sense here, as Coulet suggests, the cognitive aspect of the focalization implies a libertine perspective. The reader has the impression of a mask slipping, as the initially sentimental language of the narrator’s portrait soon slides into the more eroticized language of the implied author. The transition is signalled by the libertine attention to detail in the curiously detached focalization on the subject’s mouth, although this coolness soon gives way to an increasingly heated tone signalled by the use of both ellipsis and the sexual emphasis in the physical description of this “figure enchanteresse.” La Nouvelle Justine reproduces the same portrait with only one or two minor (yet predictable) deviations,36 but the transition from one focalizer to another explicitly takes place before the portrait is allowed to begin: “c’est l’instant où elles s’observent, où elles s’examinent toutes deux, que nous allons choisir pour donner à nos lecteurs une idée de cette femme intéressante” (NJ, 859); we see Mme de Gernande when Justine sees her, but not as she sees her.37 In episodes that have direct precedents in Les Infortunes and Justine , there are occasions when the narrator of La Nouvelle Justine seems to forget that he is not limited by Justine’s own sense of pudeur. Justine retains her focalizing role for the scene that opens the Bressac section of the narrative, as she witnesses Bressac and his servant Jasmin having sex in a thicket. The earlier first-person accounts of the scene provide the model for the third-person account of La Nouvelle Justine , as the scene is anchored in the protagonist’s sensory experience: “elle a pourtant le courage de prêter l’oreille,” and that “aucun de leurs propos, aucun de leurs mouvements ne peut lui échapper” (NJ, 468). While Justine therefore offers an unrestricted view of the sex scene unfolding before her, the narrator seems inhibited at first by the depth of her imprint on the scene, as if she were still its narrator, not just its focalizer. He seems about to cut short his narration of the scene only to think again: 35 36 37 Coulet, 93. The “temple de Vénus” becomes “le plus joli con du monde,” while “ses fesses” becomes “son cul” (NJ, 859). This is the focalizing equivalent of the narratorial hijacking that takes place on the aforementioned occasion when the narrator replaces Omphale’s portrait of Célestine with his own. Once again this self-conscious procedure is reminiscent of the tradition of comic fiction: in Scarron’s Roman comique , a story told by the character Ragotin is stolen by the narrator: “Ce n’est donc pas Ragotin qui parle, c’est moy.” Scarron, Roman comique, in Romanciers du XVIIe siècle, ed. Antoine Adam (Paris: Gallimard, 1958), 552. INTERTEXTUALITY AND URTEXTUALITY 387 La scène est longue ... scandaleuse, remplie d’épisodes ... entremêlée de luxures et de saletés bien faites pour scandaliser celle qui gémit encore d’outrages à peu près semblables. Mais quelles étaient ces infamies? Nous voyons d’ici quelques lecteurs, plus curieux de ces obscénités que des détails vertueux de l’intéressante Justine, nous supplier de leur dévoiler ces horreurs: eh bien, nous leur dirons, pour les satisfaire, que le jeune maître, nullement effrayé du dard monstrueux dont on le menace, l’excite, le couvre de baisers, s’en saisit, s’en pénètre, se pâme, en l’introduisant dans son cul. (NJ, 468–69) In a scene that explicitly engages with its earlier counterpart in Justine , the narrator is apparently led into further exposition by his readers, and thus offers a textual equivalent to Justine’s narratorial submission to the wishes of Corville. The unveiling of the libertine readership thus parallels the unveiling of the narrator as a libertine voice in La Nouvelle Justine . While this Bressac episode suggests that the third-person narration of La Nouvelle Justine carries a trace of the first-person narration of its precedents, the description of Mme de Gernande suggests a converse influence, as the mask of the female first-person voice slips to reveal an ur-third-person maleness in its focalization of its subject. The illustrator of the first edition of La Nouvelle Justine makes a focalizing slip of his own, when he depicts the aforementioned scene in which Justine eavesdrops upon Rodin’s orgy. In this engraving (NJ, 527), Justine has a smile on her face, as if no distinction were necessary, or tenable perhaps, between the virtuous focalizer and the libertine narrator. In contrast to the engraver’s graphic (con)fusion of focalizer and narrator, the text of La Nouvelle Justine multiplies its focalizers, although Justine remains pre-eminent among these. As we have already seen, the narrative repeatedly creates situations in which Justine is either compromised or rendered entirely unavailable as a focalizer. The freedom of perspective offered by third-person narration is apparently exploited with initial reluctance on such occasions, as if the narrator were left with no choice but to resort to another point of view. Not until the appearance of Saint-Florent, in the third chapter of La Nouvelle Justine , is the reader given more than a cursory insight into the thought processes of another character. When Justine offers him a chance to escape from Cœur-de-fer and his brigands, the narrator switches focalizer in order to add to the sense of impending danger faced by Justine: “On rendrait mal l’état 388 ECF 19:4 MCMORRAN dans lequel se trouvait Saint-Florent” (NJ, 461) begins the narrator, as if Saint-Florent’s thoughts were a far more daunting prospect to transcribe than those of Justine. The reason for the honour conferred on Saint-Florent becomes clear when he renders Justine unconscious with “un vigoureux coup de canne, qui l’étend sans connaissance aux pieds d’un arbre” (NJ, 465). Justine’s loss of consciousness, reflected in a divine sensory failure (“Les dieux furent sourds” [NJ, 465]), occurs immediately prior to her rape, leaving her unable to focalize what is both the defining and undefining moment of her loss of virginity—undefining because it constitutes the removal of the physiological sign of her virtue. In Justine , tied to its focalizing and narrating heroine, this apparent gap in the text can only be filled by a second encounter with Saint-Florent, who later reveals to Justine what he did to her (J, 312–13). Although Sade deliberately misleads his readership as to the order in which his texts are composed, those who do arrive at La Nouvelle Justine having read previous incarnations of the palimpsest may well feel that, of the three texts, it is the most consistent. The change in narratorial voice and an uncompromising ending almost entirely erase the tension that exists in both Les Infortunes and Justine between the ostensibly moralizing frame and the “immoralizing” narrative that it is ostensibly designed to contain. While the narrator of the opening of Les Infortunes warns the reader not to listen to the “sophismes dangereux” (I, 4) of the libertines, and his counterpart in Justine apologizes for them (“nous demandons au lecteur de l’indulgence pour les systèmes erronés qui sont placés dans la bouche de plusieurs de nos personnages” [J, 133]), the equivalent point in La Nouvelle Justine claims to strip away the moral disguise: “C’est, nous ne le déguisons plus, pour appuyer ces systèmes, que nous allons donner au public l’histoire de la vertueuse Justine” (NJ, 396; emphasis added). The clear suggestion is that Justine , and by implication, Les Infortunes, are disguised versions of this true original—the veracity of which is literally revealed in capital letters as the work of an “homme de lettres, assez philosophe pour dire le VRAI” (NJ, 396). Nevertheless, the use of plus (as opposed to pas) here, in positioning La Nouvelle Justine in relation to an antecedent, INTERTEXTUALITY AND URTEXTUALITY 389 identifies the implied reader as the former reader of Justine , and thereby undermines its very assertion of textual autonomy. In so doing, it offers a persuasive argument for reading each version of the Justine story against the others, and focusing on the palimpsest rather than the single text. Once again, a palimpsestic approach offers some insight into the limits upon the nakedness of the truth offered in La Nouvelle Justine , as another veil survives the transition from the earlier Justine : although the authorial voice of the opening pages of La Nouvelle Justine no longer maintains the moral pretences of his precedents, the editorial voice of the Avis de l’éditeur cited above retains the vestiges of the ostensibly moral position occupied by his counterpart in the equivalent Avis in Justine . The anti-libertine frame, an (editorial) outer shell without its (authorial) inner casing, weakened and heavily loaded with irony, has not entirely evaporated: “il n’y a que les sots qui se scandalisent; la véritable vertu ne s’effraie ni ne s’alarme jamais des peintures du vice, elle n’y trouve qu’un motif de plus à la marche sacrée qu’elle s’impose. On criera peut-être contre cet ouvrage; mais qui criera? ce seront les libertins, comme autrefois les hypocrites contre le Tartuffe ” (NJ, 393).38 While the chronology of composition given by the éditeur of La Nouvelle Justine may be false, its positing of La Nouvelle Justine as a point of origin in some respects seems credible. The order of reading creates its own order of composition, and the reader turning (or returning) to Justine after La Nouvelle Justine is likely to feel that it does read like the sanitized extract suggested in the Avis of the latter. A reading of Les Infortunes that followed either Justine or La Nouvelle Justine will produce a similar reversal in the reader’s sense of the sequence that is not reducible to explanation by the primacy effect alone. If we accept that Les Infortunes and Justine can seem like expurgated versions of a text that has yet to come into existence at the time they were written, then La Nouvelle Justine, not Les Infortunes, would come closest to constituting the urtext of the palimpsest.39 It is two steps closer to its origin and telos, its source and ideal—a 38 39 As Delon notes, the comparison with Tartuffe has a precedent in the Dédicace to Justine : “Le procès du Tartufe fut fait par des bigots; celui de Justine sera l’ouvrage des libertines” (J, 129). Coulet suggests something like this position when he argues, “Nous pouvons comparer, dans ces trois versions, trois expressions d’un sadisme qui, dès la première version est impliqué dans sa totalité, mais qui devient de plus en plus organisé et systématique dans la seconde et la troisième version” (89). 390 ECF 19:4 MCMORRAN hypothetical Justine with an infinite number of “Nouvelle ”s before it (or Nouvelle n Justine). Each successive version of Justine’s story goes further than the last, and in aiming to complete its predecessor also aims to incomplete it, to create by its own amplification the impression of an incomplete original. Even if the general reader will inevitably continue to choose one of these texts over its sibling rivals, no critical reading of any of the three versions of Justine’s story could ever be complete without its being read with and against the others. Queen Mary, University of London