Melmoth
3

a Journal of Victorian Gothic, Decadence and Sensation Literature

 

Article: “Theorising the Fantastic”  by Sophie Geoffroy             

 

Introductory Note:

The article that follows on theoretical figurations of the fantastic also picks up on aspects of Henry James’s fiction, his use of the fantastic, and poses several insightful questions about what I’m sure the reader will agree is a notoriously slippery genre. As well as drawing together the work of James, Sophie Geoffroy considers Vernon Lee and Angela Carter’s use of the fantastic. The article concludes with a reading of Enki Bilal’s futuristic film Immortel (ad vitam). Readers may prefer to read the article in its original French language edition  (‘Théories du fantastique (1980-2005) : construction, déconstruction, reconstruction) by clicking here or here.

I would like to thank Sophie for allowing us to publish this article and also for providing an English language translation of it.

Editor

‘Theorizing the fantastic: construction/deconstruction/reconstruction’[1]

On account of its evanescent, polymorphic nature and of the various texts that relate to the genre, the fantastic represents a challenge for literary theory. Unless one thinks of it as a mere set of coldly implemented techniques and recipes, its effects leading to climax and its imperviousness to the mind make analysts eager to theorize, as demonstrated by the passionate debates that have been held about the essence of the fantastic. Whenever theorists believed they had grasped the concept at last, their definition proved limited, not general enough to take account of the diversity of fantastic texts, authors, literary trends, etc. Therefore, this paper aims at defining an epistemology of fantasticology. The theoretical references that I have made use of are most likely typical tools for researchers of my generation. I have been influenced by Vax, Caillois and Fabre, but also owe much to the research of Todorov, Genette, the contributions of psychocriticism (C. Mauron), psychoanalysis (Freud and his notion of “the uncanny”, Lacan, Green and Anzieu), textanalysis (Bellemin-Noël) and sociocriticism. My theoretical research initially concentrated on two major questions: is the fantastic a genre? If so, what are the stages of its genesis? An in-depth analysis, partly focusing on case studies, partly dealing with theories ranging from structuralism and formalism to deconstruction, led me to certain monographs. I also came up with more general theories concerning modelling (proposals for the study of the fantastic according to the different categories of texts from ellipsis-based fantasy such as that of Henry James to gore texts by Stephen King); typology (to distinguish the gothic from the fantastic, the marvellous, science fiction, heroic fantasy, magic realism, gender-based fantasies, iconic fantastic, musical fantastic, fantastic and film); and other methods (thematic criticism, narratology ; textanalysis and psychoanalysis applied to literary texts, hermeneutics, deconstruction, reader-response criticism, phenomenology, etc…). By using case studies, the paper aims at modelling the specific type of fantastic that characterizes our times: the intermedial fantastic.

The lowest common denominator

Instead of trying to find some ideally universal concept that is abstract enough to encompass all possible occurrences under the banner of one theory gathering all the fantastics, whether they be effective, potential or virtual, one is often led to adapt the theory to the object. This limits the task to defining various forms of the fantastic: in other words defining the fantastics or defining the lowest common denominator to those fantastics. Indeed, what is the lowest common denominator shared by texts as different from one another as those of Henry James, the gore texts of Stephen King (characterized by excess, exaggeration, bombast, monstrous exhibition), Vernon Lee’s aestheticist and baroque fantastic, Angela Carter’s Magic Realism (in which carnivalesque elements mix with poetry and eroticism), and the fantastic graphic novels and films of Enki Bilal  that can be situated in between fable, science fiction and surrealism?

Despite their diversity, these texts all do share a lowest common denominator : the subject is seized by something (passive voice) that he cannot himself grasp (negative form) and that will hinder him/her from ever grasping anything else. The ontological nature, the essence of that which is happening is of little consequence. The only thing that matters is the subject’s traumatizing face to face encounter with some opaque chunk of the Real: that which can neither be absorbed by the logos, nor evacuated, forgotten, or denied. Overwhelmed by this emotional experience, the individual can not understand/make sense of express, or describe an experience that questions the fundamental categories of human experience (time, space, sense of self) as well as the fundamental logical categories (either/or ; neither/nor) that could have enabled him/her to perceive it. This unspeakable and unforgettable experience (it can not have happened yet I cannot pretend it never has happened) is characterized by an immediacy that reduces the subject to powerlessness. The absolute discrepancy between what the senses persuade him/her of and what his/her knowledge and experience make him/her aware of results in a state of alienation and anxiety that can be compared to experiences reminiscent of childhood, nightmares, drugs, psychosis, vertigo, or dissociation. Not unlike borderline states, fantastic writing is under the mode of “saisissement” (rapture) and dissociation. The fantastic experience is characterized by its immediacy and its irremediable aspects; the individual is unhinged, as much as the world around him/her. What distinguishes the fantastic from other genres is not only the violence of such affects and the paradoxical belief-system that they bring about but also its quintessential characteristic – im-mediacy – which verges on mythical thought or pure perception (that of childhood or lunacy). Hence, it has been said that, even though its forms are extremely diversified, the fantastic feeling is a universal experience (Bozzetto 65). This is also the reason why the fantastic and the sacred do not exclude each other.[2]

However, though a necessary condition for an artwork to be viewed as fantastic, is this lowest common denominator enough to distinguish the fantastic from other forms of writings that do not share its immediacy? The validity and functionality of this hypothesis is generally tested through comparison with other genres: that which is fantastic is consequently not that which is the marvellous, realism, gothic, mysticism, dream, or fantasy. Even though its themes or structures play an important role in the fantastic, it must not be regarded only as the sum or product of them. As a result, the fantastic is rather to be inferred or deduced: the fantastic is what remains. Reductio ad absurdum?

Evanescent structures

The wide range of privative prefixes is the starting point (a substantially negative one) from which the fantastic is tentatively defined as the antithesis of realism, and even the antithesis of reality or of the real at large. Im/possible, im/probable, in/comprehensible ; un/likely, un/earthly, un/thinkable, un/assimilable ; for/closed ; il/logical, ab/ject, ; u/topia, u/chronia, u/glossia ; ex/cluded ; dis/possessed; dif/ferent, dif/fered ; di/gressed, di/verted ; de/formed… How could one conceive a definition other than negative with such bases during pre-postmodern years? 

In facing the uneasiness this theoretical negativity triggered with the solid elements borrowed from the most strict theories, as if to structure the fantastic by its very theory, as if to provide some kind of jellyfish with a skeleton, thus keeping at some reasonable distance its – assuredly stinging – effects (the only certainty if any!). Actually, where does the power of the fantastic originate?    The subtractive phenomenology mentioned above is only relevant as far as the character’s experience is concerned. However intense the degree of self-identification may be, what the reader experiences is not the event itself, but a text, an artefact which presents itself as a trace of an event that is indescribable, impossible (Terramorsi), inconceivable (Bozzetto), but nonetheless efficient. Is this efficiency an effect of writing (intention auctoris)? Of the text (intentio operis) ? Of the process of reading (intention lectoris)? [3] Different answers have been suggested throughout the 20th century which have influenced the evolutions of literary theory in general, and that of fantastic theory in particular. As Martine Joly specifies concerning literary criticism at large, the questioning in the 1960s of classic criticism related to the study of intentio auctoris by analysts that concentrated on the way a text functions (intentio operis), authorial initial intentions set aside, has given birth to a “first semiology” which aims at setting up a unanimous and universal typology of signs (referring to Peirce, Saussure and Hjemlev) and that allows immanent analysis of the text, either structural or textual (Joly 2). In the 1970s, a “second semiology” – and specifically the semiotic branch – applied its semio-pragmatic method to the study of the under-lying meaning (what happens “behind” signs) or the meaning resulting from interconnectedness (what happens in-between signs), taking into account differences in meaning and the smallest variations that relate to it. The Paris School of Semiotics and the greimasian semiotics, the semiological research of Barthes or Odin belong to that theoretical movement (Joly 203-4).  The third step took into account the interaction between author/artwork/receiver, its influence on historical contextualization of interpretation, and the interrelation of the three intentions : intentio auctoris, intentio operis and intentio lectoris (Joly 2).

To get back to the fantastic, theoretical investigations that are attached to these questions either rely on the theory of immanence that is typical of 1970s pan-structuralism and 1980s “tout-narratologique” (narratological set) or contextualization relative to a historical setting. These two different tracks resulted in alternating between synchronic and diachronic approaches, between theories related to form (formalism) or content, and produced three types of work : some which concentrate on typology (what is the frontier, the threshold between closely related genres? the marvellous, the gothic, the fantastic, science-fiction, heroic fantasy, magic realism, the grotesque, the carnivalesque, the baroque?); some are dedicated to theme-related questions : themes, motifs, specific characters as in aberration stories (“histoires d’aberrations”), or stories about the Devil (“histoires démoniaques”), about nightmares (“histoires de cauchemars”), about monsters, delirious stories and evil spell stories as they are referred to in the Grande Anthologie du fantastique (Pocket) ; there is also “the theme of” the doll, the golem, the automaton, the mirror, the portrait, etc. This is the most popular approach among encyclopaedias and dictionaries of literatures of imagination, one of which is the Dictionnaire encyclopédique by Jacques Goimard and Serge Manfredo (to be published soon). The third trend in critical theory focuses on the analysis of the different modes of expression that can be found in fantastic texts : this theory lays the emphasis on the specificity of the techniques, by studying not only macro-structures, but also micro-structures : framing, focalization, optical effects (phantasmagoria, anamorphosis, specularity, mise en abyme), first-person narrative, modality, dialogism, “non-dit” (what is left unsaid) associated with the dialectic of excess and deficiency, intertextuality: the fantastic seems to belong to experimental writing and to be at the same time the height of literature. [4]  

One of the best examples of this most “classic” type of fantastic is certainly the tremendously abstract, elliptic hence enigmatic Jamesian fantastic. If most of the writings by Henry James – because, among other reasons, of their “psychological realism” – belong to mainstream and canonical literature, the analysis of his fantastic texts requires a combination of formal criticism and psychocriticism. Maurice Lévy having advised me to resort to the “semio-pragmatic” method of analysis that is characteristic of “second semiology”, I applied the greimasian theoretical model to Henry James’ fantastic. My aim was to identify the fantastic on the actantial model. In a corpus including all of James’s fantastic texts, that have been contrasted to the realistic texts of the same author, one recurring element stood out: the illustration of the ablative power of the ghost, who is capable, on the ground of his presence only, to annihilate the subject and the world around him, but also the ablative power of the victim.[5] The Jamesian “phantom” – whose fundamentally paradoxical nature is always an impediment to a true fantastic meeting – is undoubtedly the locus of this Jamesian fantastic, as it is the element that invalidates and annihilates the initial actantial scheme to replace it with other actantial schemes that are simultaneously functional. The text gradually inflects the initial axis of desire until it brings about the decisive change in the narrative, through which a new actantial scheme emerges, which turns out to be totally perverted and inverted when contrasted with the generic model. [6]  In other words, the Jamesian delusions keep challenging the hermeneutic codes of traditional ghost stories, so that the Greimas square and “simple forms” (Jolles) that have been developed by myth and folk-tale structuralist criticism cannot be exclusively relied on, as they lack the tools to give a fair account of the complexity of the Jamesian fantastic texts. When combined with narratology, the Greimasian approach shows how the contradictions between the implicit actantial schemes and the explicit model strengthen an ambiguity that already stems from the author’s ambivalent choices as far as narration is concerned (focalization, temporality, modality). As a matter of fact, more than dealing with structures, the author concentrates on the discrepancy between the apparent actantial structure(s) and the numerous and substantial sub-structures that are enigmatic, contradictory, diverted, which entails that the narrative is fundamentally based on a double ellipsis. [7] The Jamesian fantastic leads the reader, while progressing in the story, to experience void locations on both sides of his path: on the one hand, the real – idiotès – resists the mind, and on the other hand, the logos is postponed, incomplete. The Jamesian fantastic is characterized by the active notion of ellipsis: a lack and an absence (of structure) which must be viewed both as writing strategy and reading path (itself determined by dissociation and double bind). We must remember that according to the double bind theory, as it was conceived by the Palo Alto researchers, the receiver of a message that contains a meta-message he does not have access to is not given the means to appropriately react.[8] The fantastic text offers no cathartis.  

The conclusions drawn from the analysis of the Jamesian fantastic can be extended to the fantastic in general. The structural divisions and voids may not be used by the fantastic genre exclusively, nor are they the only ingredients of the fantastic. Still, they bring about tension and pleasure[9], which necessarily derive from the fantastic. [10]   

I hence replaced the Todorovian subjective and empirical notion of hesitation with that of discrepancy and suggested it could be applied to all aspects of the fantastic text. Being at the same time historical, epistemological and cultural,[11] diegetic,[12]narratological (more precisely dialogical)[13] and phenomenological[14], this discrepancy is fruitful and can be regarded as the keystone in defining the fantastic not as a structure – deconstructed and dealt with by the text as lacunary – but as a hyperbolic itinerary between two blank spaces or ellipsis (deficiency and absence). One is empirical and relates to experiencing the “real,” and the other concerns the way the logos (i.e. reason and language) deals with the aforesaid experience. 

A deceptively indexical artefact : indexical illusion/ referential illusion[15]

The fantastic text presents as an authentic trace (index) what is actually an artefact (symbol) that has been built, and that mimics (icon) what can not have happened. It gives material evidence of what it shows as impossible and irremediable at the same time. It reverses the illusion on which realism is based – indeed, the very existence of the text allegedly proves that the event did occur. The fantastic stems from double illusion: indexical illusion (trace) and referential illusion (real). The writing is deceptive for two reasons: it gives evidence and at the same time denies it; it exhibits the trace and calls into question written evidence – maybe even the possibility of it; it maintains the receiver in a double bind scheme, as it stipulates the text should be read as factual account, but at the same time, casts light upon its fictive dimension. For it is paradoxically the exhibition of this fictive dimension, which may often include the process of writing itself, which is delusively indexical, that makes the text convincing. 

However receptive, the reader is not deceived and experiences pleasure[16] through those illusions that participate in a “genre-related effect” (Odin). He has a pre-comprehension (Ricoeur) of the artefact. Though the character does not know what is happening, the reader does know what he is reading (a piece of fantastic literature); he knows that he enjoys playing with his own fear, that he nonetheless believes in what he is reading, because he wishes to believe (and is aware of that desire). [17] The effect emerges from a “call” or a radiation that emanates from the text, but also requires some responsiveness from the receiver, according to Jauss, who shows, along with the Ecole de Constance, that meaning is the result of intersubjective dialectical relation (Jauss 246), which makes the reader the author’s accomplice.   

As was true about the Jamesian corpus, the paradigmatic axis of the text itself is built through the interaction between networks of meaning relating to themes, genres and history (chronological or spatial aberrations, incarnation of Evil under any shape, hypotyposis of the different aspects of human character, eg. the double, the ghost, the vampire), and a wide range of personal obsessions and key biographical elements (about the author, the character and readers). The fact that so much has been written about “The Turn of the Screw” – this text that is essentially made of “blanks”, that anticipates and integrates, in its very narrative and plot, interactions with the interpretative instance – gives evidence that the artefact is born when reception comes into contact with the text (Wolfgang Iser)[18] and when the text is open to the greatest extent – when in fictions indetermination is conceived so as to encourage the active reader to make use of his imagination. Each new reception is based on some expected meaning or some meaning that exists prior to the reading process which in either realizing itself or failing to do so betrays the implicit question the reader had in mind and triggers reinterpretation (Jauss 113). When the reader can no more make sense of the “ambiguous complexity” of the text, then the initial question which the narrative has failed to answer or refused to answer[19] stimulates new readings and new theories of the fantastic. The “new interpreter” can no longer be satisfied with the answer or meaning that he has been given and starts looking for a new answer to the question that is inherent to the text or that has been communicated to him (Jauss 113). Through this process, new forms are created, which might induce that readers fail – even temporarily – to fully grasp the text.

The study of syntax, or of narrative schemes and models, from a narratological and structuralist view, does not suffice when one deals with major questions such as meaning and effect. Given that the fantastic is a “cultural fact” that is to a large extent determined by the “horizon of expectation” of readers who may deliberately not take into account or even fail to detect the “virtual meaning” that is inherent to the text, how do forms and systems of representation relate to intercultural exchanges and interaction between aesthetic codes? (Jauss 219) This is the question that I looked into in my studies of folklore fantastic and of the fantastic of “minorities”, that can be defined as a pocket of resistance within mass / mainstream culture or like a unifying factor when different cultures interact and that addresses the issue of the relation between the fantastic as a genre and gender (concerning the transmitter as well as the receiver), intertextuality, homosemiotic or heterosemiotics. 

The fantastic as para-doxa : an example of feminine fantastic (Angela Carter)

As they are rooted in oral culture and folklore (folk-lore) and because they mix genres, Angela Carter’s fantastic tales – which borrow from the gothic, grotesque realism, carnivalesque and Magic Realism – must be analyzed with theoretical tools that are at the crossroads of different épistémè (relating to such various fields as folklore studies, structuralism, narratology and comparative literature), as only a combination of multiple viewpoints can give a fair account of the author’s writing.

In the collection of short stories The Bloody Chamber, for instance, Angela Carter revisits the canons of childhood literature, taking a psychoanalytical viewpoint on them, and uses them as inspiration for her poetical, surrealist and feminist re-writing. She ends up with adult tales that combine oral literature, classic literature and para-literature. Thanks to narratology (the use of tenses and pronouns), structuralism, folklore analysis (motifs, types of tales) and comparative literature, one can identify the changes that those tales have undergone and the consequences of this transformation from oral to written form, on to the status of piece of literature, and from folklore to feminine and poetic fantastic[20] while her text still remains close to folklore culture (proverbs, old wives’ tales, legends, feminine knowledge). The fact that her writings are deeply rooted in folklore culture and as such tend to a re-appropriation of feminine imaginary (femininity) and even of feminine identity can be linked with hypertextuality (as in “The Erl-King”), a mixture that in my view characterizes the works that do not belong to mainstream literature. Consequently, the approach is not only structuralist. Attention must also be given to historical context and socio-criticism must be applied that takes into account historical conditions during creation, distribution and reception, as they influence effects. 

The hypertextual dimension that is inherent to feminine fantastic characterizes both the fantastic of minorities and marginal literature that have been too long and too often regarded as “paraliterature”. The effective presence of a text within another (Genette) and more precisely the presence of mainstream literature within a text – either used as a legitimation factor, [21] or under the forms of carnivalesque parodic effects and the derealisation of the magic realist text – is always linked with the fantastic when authors belong to minority groups. Those texts revolve around the crucial question of identity and authors oscillate between the need to be recognized by male-dominated society and the feeling of not belonging or even of being unworthy of notice. This observation comes from socio-semiotic analysis of the impact of editorial strategies and commercial practice on reception and effect (Wirkung), hence on identification of text genre. Folklore literature typically varies and its readers are particularly sensitive to the interaction between text and paratext: to analyze folklore fantastic, special attention must be granted to the interaction between text/context/co-text. [22] 

Para-doxa and paratext

The link between transmediatic and trangeneric transformation can be illustrated by the evolution of Ray Badbury’s science fiction. He started as a popular author among pulp magazine readers and other fanzines and ended up as a classical author published in deluxe edition and paperback, whose best-sellers have been adapted into plays, movies and comic books (that have become classics in Europe) and translated in many languages. To a large extent, the reading process depends on the interaction between the institutional context of production, direction and distribution, on inherent style and contribution of the interpreter. [23]  In other words, the meaning of a work of art is no more conceived as transtemporal but as a whole set that is built throughout history (Jauss 213). Yet contextual and co-textual analysis, when combined with textual analysis, call into question what was until now taken for granted. Some go as far as concluding a failure of interpretation, of “unlimited semiosis” or “blurred semiotics”. Imagination is characterized by the multiplicity of its objects and confusion, each new object being an additional attempt at making order out of chaos, while it actually adds to confusion. Literary organisation, as obvious as it claims to be, is always a source of obscurity.[24]  

Theoretical limits and theory of the limits : non-textuality and non-verbality

Doesn’t such a remark imply that the very notion of structure should actually be rejected? Shouldn’t it be admitted that, to a certain extent, the structuralist/neo-structuralist strategy failed, violently criticized by deconstructionist theorists inspired by the Derridean inheritance that took the lead in the theoretical field? How is it possible to reconcile different approaches that were until then regarded as incompatible?      

As far as conceptualisation is concerned, a jubilatory feeling of helplessness followed, adding to general scepticism and theoretical vagueness concerning the object of analysis which had itself changed. If any text can be deconstructed, is it possible to conceive a theory that relates to the fantastic only? Is it useful? To begin with, does the fantastic only emerge from writing, from its written form, from its status as a piece of literature? How can one give a fair account of contemporary fantastic in particular, as it almost transcends the limits of verbal form?

At that stage, these questionings resulted in a relative dilution of theory through practice (Max Duperray) – i.e. pedagogical practice: after the 1990s ambitious and exacting theoretical reflections, a pedagogical book was produced, which privileged a minimalist but consensual definition (as the result of a compromise with the publisher), in which the fantastic in literature is presented as an effect triggered by the reading process that stems from a particular system of representation and writing mode, which is often experimental, based on the dialectic of excess and deficiency (it should also be noted that the “fantastic effect” can also be induced by texts that are not labelled as “fantastic”), and has a great potential for producing forms. [25] Therefore, this definition evolved towards more undetermined associations (of which the texts of Vernon Lee, that had been rediscovered around that period of time, are quite representative) that make me think of the dynamic image of wave and fold, an aesthetic scheme which integrates movement, and which complements the concepts of discrepancy and fantastic ellipsis that have previously been described. The fluidity that characterizes waves and the malleability that characterizes folds are key-elements to understand how Lee’s text proceeds to make its way towards the fantastic, through lap dissolve of palimpsests and accumulation of hypotiposes.   

Frontiers of the fantastic and writing frontiers

This led to a new stage, that focused entirely on technical questions, on the relations between the fantastic and some related aesthetical categories: the fantastic and the baroque; the fantastic and the grotesque; [26] the sacred and the spectacular; and the strategies of special effects, excess, and exhibition. At that stage, the focal point of my theoretical analysis was the limits of writing and my attention was drawn to the relationship between two arts that centre on the limits of representation and the “voices of silence”: music – which is typically non-representational art – and the fantastic – writing what is by definition non-figurative.

Transartistic fantastic that characterizes the texts of some 19th century authors and that prevails today generated a renewed interest in theories, more particularly in interactions between intertextuality, interculturality and heterosemiotic sets. In combining image semiotics and phenomenology one may investigate the relations between the imaginary, the fantastic, the iconic and the virtual, to reflect on theories and apply them to case studies that focus on the relation between text and music, or text and image.  This reflection ended up with the notion of heterosemiotic fantastic or intermedial fantasy. 

I then came back to the hypothesis of the fantastic as the height of literature, and tried to analyze the relation between text and music in musical adaptations of fantastic texts, as for example “The Turn of the Screw” by James that was adapted as an opera play by Benjamin Britten. Can the fantastic be submitted to adaptation or translation from one mode of expression, or from one code to another? Does this transposition imply any generic change? What are the consequences on the effect (Wirkung) that is, according to Jauss, determined by the text, and on the reception that is, according to the same author, determined by the receiver? Is there a “musical fantastic”? To what extent does this masterpiece of fantastic literature lose – or keep – its fundamentally enigmatic and ambiguous characteristic when transposed from one medium (in the literal sense) to another, while in the process the Jamesian equivoque is vocalized and becomes audible, while the non-verbalized and the unspeakable become articulate language? 

The analysis of the changes of codes applies to the transposition from the Jamesian piece of literature to the libretto, from writing to staging, from text to music and aims at determining the relation between transmediatic and potential generic changes. Some of the hypotheses have been verified:  music implies changes in the text, yet it abides by generic conventions and rules of composition that favour expressivity and ideological faithfulness to the text. Britten resumes the endeavours of James in experimental art, and his music uses modes of writing that generate the fantastic. The very structure of the opera play itself revolves around the musical theme of the screw, which generates suspense in the manner of literary suspense[27]. As they both stem from the screw motif, the musical motif that relates to the governess and the one that characterizes Quint make the audience wonder at the governess’s allegedly redemptive plan. Those characters consequently appear as doubles. The fundamental ambiguity of the text is thus left unscathed and the ambivalence of characters (the governess, Quint, Jessel, the children) is echoed as a musical equivalent can be found for the literary themes of the double and the mirrored image.  

Conversely, James, though he has often been said to know nothing of music and to be indifferent to it, seems to apply musical techniques in “The Private Life” (1982). The fugue is not only the musical background to the story and the main topic of conversation, but also the thematic and narrative technique on which this whole story about disappearance is based, in which James makes the text and character vanish, in which he associates fugue, fold and mise en abyme, and, more generally, the fantastic and music. [28]

In the same perspective, other works centre on literary transposition of musical elements, on composition forms, structures and effect of musical fantastic texts and effect. This is illustrated within the text in Vernon Lee’s writings. Indeed this author ventures to put in parallel semiotic codes an equivalence that relies on and is justified by the homology of the effects that each of these codes produces: a perceptive synesthesia which takes shape in her transartistic aesthetics, and which is transversal to pictorial, musical and literary art forms. Because of the recurring presence of indexical artefacts, her texts that exhibit numerous ekphraseis and her imaginary museums have a strikingly homological structure; this overabundance of cultural references in the text results in tangible presence of the past and favours the emergence of the “genius loci”.  These texts are made of an accumulation of verbal, iconic and musical signs that refer to listless sources (and thus justify genetic and intertextual research) but that are also created by the writing process. Semiology and narratology allow the analyst to determine the status of the works of art that are mentioned, that may vary according to the way they are presented in the text: collage and montage, or collage of collage. As relates to the voice, to its effects and representations that are at the core of all her texts, Lee transcends the fundamental apory that there is in telling the voice by inscribing, in-between sound and letter, a visual space. She mediatises the voice with the inclusion of image. Indeed, the voice – that becomes a character (voice picturalization) – is incarnated when the fantastic paintings are brought to life. Beyond the sheer musical fantastic, these case studies illustrate transartistic writing and intermediality.    

Next comes the crucial theoretical question: in what ways is the fantastic literal and to what extent is it linked to the literary world? Shouldn’t it be associated with representation and image at large? We have to get back to the basics to be able to take into account the recent evolution of fantastic production itself that is clearly influenced by the technical innovations (in such various fields as cinema, television, photography and visual arts in general),[29] and above all by the elaboration of new images and the development of a new relation to reality (to the virtual) that conveys a new ideology regarding some special kind of “communication” which leads to virtual reality, which does not refer to the real as its basis, but relies on fantasy and desire instead.[30]  We have to get back, beyond adaptation theories that are linked with rewriting (e.g. parodic rewriting) and intertextuality, to the relation between image and the imaginary.

A reflection on intermedial fantastic

Since the very beginning, according to Bozzetto, the pictorial fantastic has provided the literary fantastic with images and characters, as image would be the most appropriate medium to represent a hallucinated scene.[31] Optical effects and pictural techniques suited to literary form (like anamorphosis for instance) have afterwards contributed to the evolution of fantastic. Based on techniques – special effects, image editing, hallucinations – as well as content or themes,[32] the evolution of the media gives evidence of the strong connection between image, media and mediumness. As Derrida summed up in his famous jest: the television era is profitable to ghosts. Can we expect that postmodern times, that lay the stress on (tele)vision, will turn out to be the era of pan-fantastic, inaugurating the era of generalized spectralisation?  

It is true that media turn the invisible into something that is visible and visual – Swedenborg’s dream has become true! The spectral becomes visual while the real becomes virtual, while, conversely, in the view of a certain type of audience – the numerous spectators of “reality shows” – what is visual is real, or even what is visual is the only thing that is real.[33] Does that mean that any represented object or any image must be viewed as fantastic? What is this new heterosemiotic and intermedial fantastic made of, that merges signs of various origins and connects them in different ways (signs coexist, interact) which entails that codes influence one another and that phenomenology and semiotics must both be used in textual analysis? Is it not time to combine “immanent” analytical methods to “historical” approaches (utterance theories, semiotics, sociocriticism) and phenomenology to analyze this new fantastic?

The Nikopol Trilogy,[34] a collection of three comic books by Enki Bilal, that has been adapted as a movie entitled Immortels ad vitam (March 2004)[35], is an ideal study case to put our hypotheses to the test. The story takes place from year 2023 to 2034,[36] and the setting is either futuristic megalopolis (New York, Paris, Berlin, London), the archetypes of Western developed countries, or deserted places (Egypt), the epitome of a more natural, archaic, primeval world. However, those two civilizations have one thing in common : dictatorship, tribal wars and armed struggles between militia and Mafia. The plot centres around an improbable love story featuring a mutant journalist (Jill Bioskop), the Egyptian God Horus and Alcide Nikopol, a human protester whom the powerful Eugenic Firm “Globus” has cryogenized Nikopol has accidentally been defrosted and has been forced to leave his heavenly hypothermic space capsule, like another Adam who is twice punished and has to endure the Fall for the second time in his life, to eventually land in a terrifying world, which he tries to escape by reading Baudelaire’s most morbid poetry.

In shooting the movie, Bilal deconstructs his own comic book: he selects, summarizes and interprets the most important elements and then reconstructs and transposes the trilogy – which is a classic for a new genre which is not yet considered as such – in another medium that is likely to meet the expectations of the targeted audience (young adults who expect to see a cult film).  

Bilal teamed with computer graphic designers who are renowned for their video clips to create an original work of art and an original medium that mixes genres a lot as it alternatively uses original shots – that have sometimes been coloured or altered –, computer-generated images, photographs, cartoons, animated movies. These technical evolutions entail a change in genre and a change in reception (from a comic book which has become a classic to cult movie).  

The result of transfer and condensation is a long dream-like video clip, which is in between surrealism, science fiction and the fantastic. The Bilalian network of images typically revolves around representations of postmodern urban reality which – though dysphoric – betray a deep concern for aesthetics, and which can be characterized by two major aspects: its violent aesthetics and its aesthetics of violence.

The rough, marble-like, strangely fascinating beauty of his characters who are either ventriloquist or nearly mute, whose facial expression hardly change, whose eyes are fixed and who, like masks or idols live among crowds of automata physically testify that the people is politically and intellectually enslaved by the aesthetical dictatorship of Ferdinand Choublanc (image manipulation and fragmentation being recurring themes in Bilal’s work).

Using an expressionist range of colours, Bilal benefits from the psycho-physiological effects of images through the tactile sensations they evoke,[37] through the semiotic system he uses regarding shapes and colours – the connotations and symbolical surdeterminations that are connected to them. He contrasts the non-organic existence of opaque, glossy objects endowed with a smooth, cold and hard metallic texture symbolizing absolute beauty and nobility, to soft, elastic, malleable, warm textures with a mat complexion, which is the typical consistency of human kind – or rather what is left of it – pushing triviality to the excremential, as incarnates Nikopol who is haunted by the most obscene poems of The Flowers of Evil, which he recurrently quotes from.   

This movie combines the canonisation effect of literary and poetic intertextuality, and the cult effect brought about through references to art forms that are familiar to the audience and which “genre effect” Bilal fully uses. The fact that Bilal borrows elements from other codes – iconic, plastic or linguistic codes – [38] and assimilates them to his own typical visual and intertextual codes is flattering for the audience: spectators feel gratified to find that their own “horizon of expectation” has been taken into account and encoded in the work of art. Homo- or heterosemiotic intertextuality can be viewed as a code, which creates complicity between the author and the receivers and thus participates in the dialectical transposition from a comic book considered as a classic to a cult movie.

Cinema is at the very heart of the third volume of the trilogy, which starts with the projection of rushes from the fictive movie Amour/Amore. The comic strips of the comic book are to a certain extent the storyboard of the movie that has not been finished because the actors (Nikopol and Jill) have disappeared, and that is shown image after image, like a series of photographs that are almost identical except for slight differences (types of shots, framing, definition of the off-camera space that is more or less visible or implicit). This results in a spectacular mirror-effect : the mise en abyme of the shooting sequence in the comic book is echoed by the mise en abyme that is inherent to the movie – a movie which is inevitably regarded as the one that was shot… in the comic book.

Bilal’s graphical type of writing, which is already cinematographic, predisposes such a case of specularity. He resorts to camera movement to compensate for the expressionless faces of his characters; the composition of each panel is like that of paintings, photographs or shots, and he shows a preference for “affection-image” (when panels are saturated with close-ups and medium close-ups) ; he draws and composes his landscapes (urban wastelands, waste grounds, deserts destroyed by wars) like panoramic shots. The way he deals with dialogues (characters are presented in shots and reverse shots) bears some resemblance with classic Hollywoodian rhetoric. Bilal also uses duplication and repetition (the very same scene is represented more than once, according to different perspectives), which gives the impression that the off-camera space is gradually disclosed. The effects of framing/deframing[39] as well as the different options in collage (which can be either homogeneous or heterogeneous) and editing (alternate editing, expressive or productive editing, “sideshows” editing[40]) endow some images with the status of meta-images.

Those techniques that have something in common with collage, have a similar function. They connect two heterogeneous elements thanks to a third element that replaces and hides what has been cut and erased. It is important to notice that there is a striking structural and formal equivalence between these technical choices and the two major themes that are developed in the work, that are strangely interrelated : on the one hand, the solder or graft theme, and on the other hand the perverse relation to History.  The predominant motifs of disintegration, of dismemberment with bodies chopped up in numberless parts, fragments, grafts, stumps, portions, have to be linked to the schemes of mutilation (war, torture, bloody sports) and graft (plastic surgery, organ transplants, the soldering of Nikopol’s metallic leg). Fragmentation, laceration, reconstruction, remembrance, the random occurrences of graft, collage, suture and solder motifs must be connected to a morbid relation (forclusion, censorship or denial) to the traumas that have been generated by History. There is a homological relation between those “drive-images” (Deleuze) and the predation scheme that is at the basis of the relations between characters and the whole work of art, that is embodied by Horus – the height of hybridity: a hawk-headed deity with a human body, that fuses with Nikopol’s body.[41] 

The incongruous presence in the sky above New York city of a flying pyramid in which the Egyptian Gods live can be equated in meaning with the apple – which being out of place, is absurd – that replaces and hides the “Son of Man” ’s face in Magritte’s surrealistic painting. Suddenly and illegally appearing in the sky of New York, the pyramid is the tangible materialisation of screen memory (the collective memory that is built from history books, from an obsolete past, from a fundamentally different history) that covers up the trauma of recent history that has been censored and forgotten (the civil war in Sarajevo, where Bilal spent his childhood, that haunts him). It points to the past of another world, which obliterates and conceals an alienating memory blank. It symbolizes the collective memory, which – as any memory-related machine – is a machine that creates oblivion as it is the antagonism of subjective memory and as its aim is to replace subjectivity with collective/consensual speech. (Alain Brun, in Joly 163). Characters may thus cling to protective amnesia and keep on denying the metamorphoses and mutations that History displays; memory rhymes with madness, and this is precisely what Jill, like Nikopol when he quotes from Baudelaire, tries to escape in taking pills,. 

The access to the real is not possible, which is even shown through the paradoxical use of newspaper articles, which are physically present, literally pasted in the comic book’s panels and the fake issue of the newspaper Libération which is included with the comic book. The reality effect that is expected to result from the referential elements (a plausible date, “Thursday, the 14th of October 1993”, and a real editorial writer, Serge July) is toned down by the derealizing effect of obviously science-fictional elements, like some headlines: “The Day when the Future telescripted”, “Today the 3rd of February 2025 and the 14th of October 1993 meet”. The ontological status of the pseudo-photographs that have been drawn and pasted is particularly ambiguous: they are traces, hence they reveal[42] and give evidence of “what-has-been” (Barthes) ; yet they illustrate impossible scenes. They play the role of indexes (Peirce) that refer to unreal objects and fantastic epiphanies. The genre and ontological status of this work that Bilal views as poetic, fantastic, oniric, fantasmatic and surrealistic is problematic. The label “intermedial work” seems to give a fair account of the plurality of techniques that are borrowed by the movie – a medium that, contrary to the comic book, centres around its reality effects – and that triggers numerous effects. When discussing the technical aspect of his movie,[43] Bilal simply claims that the movie has nothing to do with the real. But what about reality effects?

Intermediality entails uncertainty in interpretation, ties up the audience in double bind in giving both documentary-oriented and fiction-oriented reading instructions. Reality effects are constantly in interaction with hyperreality effects (insertion on a neutral and homogeneous background of shots, virtual images or characters,[44] of video games or retouched images), [45] irreal effects (use of drawings, colourings, backgrounds that are painted then animated, [46] cartoons,[47] pencil portraits) and surreal effects (coloured sequences or characters, superimposed images like that of the pyramid above New York city). [48] The choice of those particular techniques – which aim at generating surreal, unrealistic and hyperreallistic effects from heterogeneous editing and collage is structurally and formally coherent with Bilal’s vision of a painful and repressed reality.

According to Jauss, when a piece of literature calls into question the established order given by the institutions and traditions of some society, when it frees itself from the boundaries of social standards and conventional literature, and when a diachronic dimension is restored within a civilization, the synchronic structure of the aforesaid society and the forms of its literature can no longer be reflected by the homogeneous substance of the same logos… (Jauss 116).               The fiction-oriented reading (the “genre effect” that relates to SF) that is induced by unreal effects constantly calls into question any documentary-oriented reading (that is based on the reality effects) ; at the same time, the creative process – linked to the adaptation of the comic book into a movie – is deconstructed through the derealisation effect – disappearance of the real, aphany – that are generated through the paradoxical effects of hyperreality that are brought about by intermediality and mediatic representations (heterosemiotic and homosemiotic intertextuality).

Such fantastic goes far beyond the freudian notion of “the uncanny”. It relies on a paradoxical semiotic chain, as it is based on a reality effect that gives the illusion that the symbol (a convention) is an index (a trace) or even an icon (implying some analogical relation with) of some particular kind of real… that is presented as impossible[49] through the fantastic effect that lays the emphasis on the deficiency of the symbol (the ellipsis as a void : there is no word to phrase “that”) and of the icon (the ellipsis as a lack). Not only does the fantastic produce some out of vision space at the very heart of the image it generates, but it also pictures the real as some out of vision space[50] and the gaps, the blanks and voids can only be filled through the reader’s imagination.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Barthes, Roland. La chambre claire. Paris: Gallimard, 1980.

Berenson, Bernard. The Florentine Painters of the Renaissance, New York: G. P. Putnam’s Sons, 1896.

Bonitzer, Pascal. “Décadrages”, Cahiers du cinéma, N° 284, janvier 1978.

Bozzetto, Du fantastique iconique, pour une approche des effets du fantastique en peinture. Paris: E C éditions, 2001.

Deleuze, Gilles, Cinéma : I. L’image-mouvement, Paris : Minuit, « Critique », 1983.

Umberto Eco, Les limites de l’interprétation, trad. Française. Paris: Grasset, 1992.

S. Geoffroy-Menoux, “Angela Carter’s Bloody Chamber: Twice-Harnessed Folk-Tales”, in Paradoxa, Studies in World Literary Genres, Vol. 2, N°2, Washington, May 1996, pp. 249-62.

S. Geoffroy-Menoux, « Du statut actantiel du spectre jamesien ». Cahiers de Narratologie, N° 6, « Le personnage romanesque ». Presses Universitaires de Nice, 1995, pp. 221-232 ;

S. Geoffroy-Menoux, « Eléments pour une géométrie actantielle de la fantasmagorie ». Cahiers du CERLI, N° 6, « Mélanges Maurice Lévy », 1995, pp. 67-80 ;

S. Geoffroy-Menoux, « Eléments pour une théorie narratologique du fantastique moderne: du fantastique comme ellipse », Cahiers du CERLI, N° 7 & 8, « Fantastique et science-fiction: théorie, modernité et renouvellement », pp. 51-58.

S. Geoffroy-Menoux, « Le fantastique de Vernon Lee au tournant du siècle: entre baroque et grotesque », La littérature fantastique en Grande-Bretagne au tournant du siècle, Max Duperray ed., Presses Universitaires de Provence, 1997, pp. 147-170.

S. Geoffroy-Menoux, Introduction à l’étude du fantastique dans la littérature anglo-américaine, Paris : éditions du temps, 2000.

S. Geoffroy-Menoux, « The Turn of the Screw, de James à Britten », in Ecritures du fantastique ; la littérature et les arts, vol. 2, Florent Montaclair ed., Besançon : Presses du Centre Unesco, 1998, pp. 29-38.

S. Geoffroy-Menoux, « 'The Private Life', ou l'art de la fugue », Henry James ou le fluide sacré de la fiction, Paris: L'Harmattan, 1998, pp. 191-202.

S. Geoffroy-Menoux, « L’esthétique trans-artistique picturo-musico-littéraire de Vernon Lee », Narratologie n° 6, CNA, Presses Universitaires de Nice, 2004 .

S. Geoffroy-Menoux, « Images, textes, voix: fonctions respectives et interactions dans la création littéraire de V. Lee », Journée d’Etude du CRLH, Université de la Réunion, 1er décembre 2001. CRLH, Travaux et documents, Université de la Réunion, juin 2002.

S. Geoffroy-Menoux, « Détours et hybridations : mystères fin-de-siècle, intermedial fantasy et phénoménologie du subliminal », sous presse, F. Dupeyron-Lafay (ed.), Aix-en-Provence, Presses Universitaires de Provence, 2005.

S. Geoffroy-Menoux, « Intermedial Fantasies and the Blurring of the Real : from Comic Book to Cartoon and to Film » : Enki Bilal’s Immortel (ad vitam) ». In Film and Comic Books. Ian Gordon, Mark Jancovitch, and Matthew P. McAllister eds. University Press of Mississipi, 2005.

Jauss Hans Robert, Pour une esthétique de la réception. Trad française. Paris : Gallimard, 1978.

Joly, Martine. L’image et son interprétation, Paris: Nathan “Cinéma”, 2002.

Joly, Martine. Introduction à l’analyse de l’image. Paris : Nathan Université, « 128 », 1993.

Maurice Lévy, RANAM, n°4, 1973.

ODIN, Roger, « Film documentaire, lecture documentarisante », Cinémas et réalités, St Etienne, CERTIEC, 1972.

Peirce, Charles Sanders. Ecrits sur le signe. Rassemblés, traduits et commentés par G. Deledalle. Paris : Seuil, 1978.

Sophie Geoffroy

Université de La Réunion (France)

sophiegeoffroy632@yahoo.fr

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[1] My heartfelt gratitude to Alice Mussard, who made it possible for this text to find its way out of the confines of my teaching practice.

[2] S. Geoffroy-Menoux, « Détours et hybridations : mystères fin-de-siècle, intermedial fantasy et phénoménologie du subliminal », in F. Dupeyron-Lafay (ed.), Aix-en-Provence, Presses Universitaires de Provence, 2005.

[3] More about this in Umberto Eco, Les limites de l’interprétation, trad. Française. Paris: Grasset, 1992.

[4] S. Geoffroy-Menoux, Introduction à l’étude du fantastique dans la littérature anglo-américaine, Paris : éditions du temps, 2000.

[5] For more information, see : « Du statut actantiel du spectre jamesien ». Cahiers de Narratologie, N° 6, « Le personnage romanesque ». Presses Universitaires de Nice, 1995, pp. 221-232 ; « Eléments pour une géométrie actantielle de la fantasmagorie ». Cahiers du CERLI, N° 6, « Mélanges Maurice Lévy », 1995, pp. 67-80 ; « Eléments pour une théorie narratologique du fantastique moderne: du fantastique comme ellipse », Cahiers du CERLI, N° 7 & 8, « Fantastique et science-fiction: théorie, modernité et renouvellement », pp. 51-58 ; as well as the conclusion to Miroirs d’Outre-Monde ; Henry James et la création fantastique. Paris: L’Harmattan, 1996.

[6] “The Turn of the Screw” provides a good example of this strategy, as it can be viewed as a paradigm set of these actantial schemes.

[7] This might be compared with multilinear representation in speech in linguistics.

[8] Martine Joly, L’image et son interprétation, Paris: Nathan “Cinéma”, 2002, p. 175.

[9] This pleasure is at least felt by this particular type of reader that Bozzetto, in Du fantastique iconique, calls the “fantastic reader” : a reader who is willing to accept the heterogeneous nature of what he is given to see and to understand (19) and who will apply to the text his desire to interpret even if he knows that his attempt will necessarily fail (19-20).

[10] The core of the trauma (the void location left by the ellipsis) has the very same effect on the text as black holes around which space is curved ; this terminology which borrows from geometry (the mathematical notion of point) and astronomy (curved space, black hole) hints at a partly similar functioning.

[11] In relation to the loss of the sacred, the fantastic revives – while taking another stance – the original folklore, the folk-tales and dead myths. Maurice Lévy, RANAM, n°4, 1973.

[12] All researchers (among whom Castex, Vax, Caillois, Grivel, Terramorsi, etc.) have laid stress on the disturbing aspect of the extra-ordinary event which contrasts with an ordinary, natural and realistic setting.  Divisions, splits, sudden and undesirable occurrences of phenomena : the fantastic is based on this discrepancy between events and diegetic levels.

[13] Permanent contact is established between the author and the reader through the character or narrator, who are often intradiegetic incarnations of the reader (implied author/encoded reader). This corresponds to a discrepancy in narration, any fantastic text being dialogical. This dialogism acts as strategy (favouring identification) ; it also mirrors the author’s idea on the intra-psychological discrepancies that occur within the psyche of the characters.

[14] There is also a discrepancy at the very heart of the act of reading : it is not related to hesitation, but to ambivalence, because of the ambiguity of some fantastic texts (either modern or postmodern).

[15] Reference to Peirce’s semiotics.

[16] The reader experiences pleasure as if he/she felt emotionally involved in this lacunar reading. Bozzetto, op. cit, p. 19.

[17]The fantastic lasts as long as this belief and this playful relation to belief may last… but not within the period of time when the reader hesitates between various interpretations, contrary to what Todorov has asserted.

[18] As quoted by Jauss, footnote n°47, p. 246.

[19] Jauss observes that Racine’s tragedies tended to be reduced to bourgeois theatre when their intricacies concerning religion or authority were no more understood – when the initial question they were supposed to address, or had refused to address, was no more perceived or considered as valid (Jauss 226).

[20] I have shown that the written tale is an oral tale that has been deprived of its initial communicational setting and that must hence compensate for this loss through excessive writing so as to retrieve the dynamism of oral communication thanks to figures of speech, tones, titrology and specific printing devices so as to meet with the “horizon of expectancy” of receivers. Cf. “Angela Carter’s Bloody Chamber: Twice-Harnessed Folk-Tales”, in Paradoxa, Studies in World Literary Genres, Vol. 2, N°2, Washington, May 1996, pp. 249-62.

[21] I refer the reader to Ray Badbury’s early science-fiction texts or Stephen King’s novels.

[22] Style, medium and institution (the text, context and co-text of the communicational scheme) provide readers with prevailing instructions to be applied to the reading process: they tend to have either a fictionalizing or documentarizing effect. (Joly 125, refers to Roger Odin, “Film documentaire, lecture documentarisante”, art. cit.).

[23] M. Joly, p. 132, refers to Roger Odin, “Du spectateur fictionnalisant au nouveau spectateur. Approche sémio-pragmatique.” Iris N° 8, Cinéma et narration, Vol. 2, Paris, Corlet, 1989.

[24] Dictionnaire Larousse des Littératures, art. « entropie ».

[25] S. Geoffroy-Menoux, Introduction à l’étude du fantastique dans la littérature anglo-américaine. Paris: éditions du temps, 2000.

[26] « Le fantastique de Vernon Lee au tournant du siècle: entre baroque et grotesque », La littérature  fantastique en Grande-Bretagne au tournant du siècle, Max Duperray ed., Presses Universitaires de Provence, 1997, pp. 147-170.

[27] S. Geoffroy-Menoux, « The Turn of the Screw, de James à Britten », in Ecritures du fantastique ; la littérature et les arts, vol. 2, Florent Montaclair ed., Besançon : Presses du Centre Unesco, 1998, pp. 29-38.

[28] S. Geoffroy-Menoux, « 'The Private Life', ou l'art de la fugue », Henry James ou le fluide sacré de la fiction, Paris: L'Harmattan, 1998, pp. 191-202.

[29] So much that the text anticipates on potential adaptation, and is adjusted to cinema and television : most of the time, the texts are written so as to match a future script (and not the contrary). 

[30] M. Joly talks about « dereistic aesthetics », in which the old problematic putting into perspective the real and image is no more relevant. Virtual images that are clearly disconnected from the real and that do not have the possibility of taking place have to be linked with the modality of desire. Joly 87.

[31] R. Bozzetto, Du fantastique iconique, referring to a letter by Raymond Perrot, note 14 page 14.

[32] Archetypal characters and traditional motifs stemming from the fantastic and the “Literature of Power” make a noticeable come back (especially in the United States).

[33] The visual and the visible must not be mixed up.

[34] Featuring Charlotte Rampling, Linda Hardy and Thomas Kretschmann.

[35] La Foire aux immortels (1980), la Femme piège (1986) and Froid Equateur (1992).

[36] S. Geoffroy-Menoux, ‘Intermedial Fantasies and the Blurring of the Real: from Comic Book to Cartoon and to Film  : Enki Bilal’s Immortel (ad vitam)”. In Film and Comic Books. Ian Gordon, Mark Jancovitch, and Matthew P. McAllister eds. University Press of Mississipi, 2007, pp. 268-95.

[37] Cf. Bernard Berenson and his famous theory about « tactile values ». The Florentine Painters of the Renaissance, New York: G. P. Putnam’s Sons, 1896.

[38] Surrealist pictural models (Dali, Magritte) ; cartoons (Roland Topor’s Fantastic Planet) ; applied arts (fashion, design).

[39] Pascal Bonitzer defines deframing (décadrage) as a viewpoint with an anomaly that does not correspond to oblique perspective nor to a peculiar camera angle, but that refers the viewer to another dimension of the image. Pascal Bonitzer, “Décadrages” in Cahiers du cinéma, N° 284, janvier 1978, quoted in Deleuze, L’image-mouvement, p. 27-8.

[40] When special images are inserted – whether they be theatre plays or stage design, sculptures or plastic art –which seem to interrupt the action. Deleuze, L’image-mouvement, p. 247.

[41] The other Gods are not any different : made from superimposed images, with the head of an animal and a human body, they seem to be born from a fusion between comic book characters, drawn characters and photographed human beings.

[42] Cf. Blow Up by Antonioni.

[43] Bilal, interview made on the 24th of March 2004, France Inter.

[44] Such characters as Dr Froebe or John.

[45] Some characters seem to be sketched or to have their contour drawn in pencil (Jill).

[46] Coloured backgrounds like the sequence when the water which is drawn comes to life thanks to the lap dissolve.

[47] As in Roger Rabbit; e.g. the bloodthirsty Dayaks.

[48] Computer-modified photograph that is superimposed upon the handmade painting of the sky of New York.

[49] According to Peirce, the three forms of signifiers are the symbol (convention), the icon (mimetism) and the index (the trace).

[50] Lacan has shown that when contrasted with fantasy, reality is put on the fringes.