Monstrous Anatomies
Transcription
Monstrous Anatomies
V Academic Interfacing Science, Literature, and the Humanities / ACUME 2 Volume 10 Edited by Vita Fortunati, Università di Bologna Elena Agazzi, Università di Bergamo Scientific Board Susan Bassnett (Warwick University), Andrea Battistini (Università di Bologna), Andreas Blödorn (Westfälische Wilhelms-Universität Münster), Wolfgang Braungart (Universität Bielefeld), Michele Cometa (Università di Palermo), Susan Fairweather-Tait (University of East Anglia), Vincenzo Ferrone (Università di Torino), Claudio Franceschi (Università di Bologna), Susan Friedman (University of Wisconsin-Madison), Brian Hurwitz (King’s College), Giovanni Levi (Muséum National D’Histoire Naturelle), Ansgar Nünning (Justus Liebig Universität Giessen), Vera Nünning (Universität Heidelberg), Giuliano Pancaldi (Università di Bologna), Stefano Poggi (Università di Firenze), Stanley Ulyaszeck (Oxford University) Editorial Board Raul Calzoni (Università di Bergamo), Valeria Cammarata (Università di Palermo), Zelda Franceschi (Università di Bologna), Guglielmo Gabbiadini (Università di Bergamo), Gilberta Golinelli (Università di Bologna), Andrea Grignolio Università di Roma La Sapienza), Federica La Manna (Università della Calabria), Micaela Latini (Università di Cassino), Alessandro Nannini (Università di Bologna), Greta Perletti (Università di Bergamo), Massimo Salgaro (Università di Verona), Aurelia Santoro (Università di Bologna) Raul Calzoni / Greta Perletti (eds.) Monstrous Anatomies Literary and Scientific Imagination in Britain and Germany during the Long Nineteenth Century With 17 figures This book is published with the support of the University of Bergamo, “Dipartimento di Lingue, Letterature Straniere e Comunicazione”, Italy. Bibliographic information published by the Deutsche Nationalbibliothek The Deutsche Nationalbibliothek lists this publication in the Deutsche Nationalbibliografie; detailed bibliographic data are available in the Internet at http://dnb.d-nb.de. ISSN 2197-1390 ISBN 978-3-8471-0469-8 ISBN 978-3-8470-0469-1 (E-Book) ISBN 978-3-7370-0469-5 (V&R eLibrary) You can find alternative editions of this book and additional material on our website: www.v-r.de © 2015, V&R unipress GmbH, Robert-Bosch-Breite 6, 37079 Göttingen, Germany / www.v-r.de All rights reserved. No part of this work may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without prior written permission from the publisher. Printed in Germany. Cover image: Francisco Goya, El sueño de la razón produce monstruos, 1797 Printed and bound by CPI buchbuecher.de GmbH, Zum Alten Berg 24, 96158 Birkach, Germany. Printed on aging-resistant paper. Contents The Body of the Monster between Science and Literature: An Introduction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 7 Elisa Leonzio Deformity and Monstrosity : Jean Paul between Embryogenesis and the Concept of Life . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 25 Raul Calzoni Liminal Figurations of the Vampire in the German Enlightenment, Sturm und Drang and Romanticism . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 41 Lorella Bosco A ‘Mosaic Work’: The Poison Mixer’s Body between Monstrosity and Deception . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 61 Micaela Latini Angels and Monsters: On Stifter’s Turmalin . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 81 Anna Cappellotto Creating Life Artificially : Robert Hamerling’s Homunculus . . . . . . . . 95 Francesca Di Blasio The Monstrous Gaze: Exotic/Subaltern/Female. Omai in Eighteenth-Century Fin de Si{cle London . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 121 Sharon Ruston Has Man “Paid Too Dear a Price for His Empire”? Monsters in Romantic-Era Literature . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 133 6 Flora de Giovanni Displaying the Anomalous Body. Wilkie Collins’s Freak Show Contents . . . . . . 149 Alessandra Violi Dead pro tem.: Suspended Animation and the Monstrosity of Death-Counterfeits . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 169 Laura Di Michele Nineteenth-Century London as Monstrous Body . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 193 Maria Teresa Chialant ‘The Thing’. Unidentified Monstrous Objects in Victorian Fiction . . . . 217 Francesca Guidotti The Dis-Appearance of the Body in an Age of Science: H. G. Wells’s Invisible Man . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 235 Sara Damiani Unthinkable Hybrids: The Somatic Unconscious of the Transplanted Body . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 255 Daniela Crocetti Taming Gender : How Hermaphroditism Became Pseudo and Gender Fled the Body . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 273 Michele Cometa The Survival of Ancient Monsters: Freud and Baubo . . . . . . . . . . . . 297 The Authors . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 311 The Body of the Monster between Science and Literature: An Introduction This book explores the significance and dissemination of ‘monstrous anatomies’ in British and German culture by investigating how and why scientific and literary representations and descriptions of abnormal bodies were proposed in the late Enlightenment, during the Romantic and the Victorian Age. Since the late Enlightenment, the emphasis on reason and the desire to prevail over nature have paradoxically brought to light the aspects of life that elude categorization, thus paving the way for a new interest in the abnormal and the monstrous.1 This is especially true in the light of the investigations of late eighteenth-century natural sciences, when the interest in monstrous anatomies becomes functional to scientifically understand the physiology and anatomy of the human being, although this scientific approach to the abnormal body is often mingled with the survival of alchemical, mystical and supernatural aspects.2 This is part of the cultural movement that Terry Castle has famously described as the ‘turning inwards’ of the supernatural, when the mysteries of the human mind 1 On the monster as a natural and philosophical ‘error’ that had a decisive influence in revolutionary debates on political identity and national history during the Enlightenment, see David William Bates, Enlightenment Aberrations: Error and Revolution in France (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 2002). On the Enlightenment, its historical development and its legacy in the following centuries, see Vincenzo Ferrone, The Enlightenment: History of an Idea (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2015). 2 As it is demonstrated, with reference to the influence of alchemical sources on literature, in Eva Horn, ‘Abwege der Forschung. Zur literarischen Archäologie der wissenschaftlichen Neugierde (Frankenstein, Faust, Moreau)’, in Literatur als Philosophie – Philosophie als Literatur, hrsg. von Eva Horn, Bettine Menke und Christoph Menke (München: Fink, 2006), pp. 153–171. On Paracelsus’ influence on European culture and science, see Die Alchemie in der europäischen Kultur- und Wissenschaftsgeschichte, hrsg. von Christoph Meinel (Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz Verlag, 1986), and on the two sides of his thought, i. e. speculative and theological as well as medical and scientific, see Andrew Weeks, Paracelsus. Speculative Theory and the Crisis of the Early Reformation (Albany : State University of New York Press, 1997) and Charles Webster, Paracelsus. Medicine, Magic and Mission at the End of Time (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2008). 8 Raul Calzoni / Greta Perletti become increasingly more fascinating than the magical and the mystical intended as aspects coming from some kind of ‘other world’.3 Monstrous Anatomies in German Culture The fascination with the monstrous demonstrated by the investigations of natural philosophers found in the German culture of the 1770s a peculiar approach in Johann Caspar Lavater’s pathognomical and physiognomical studies on physical ‘diversity’, published in his well-known Von der Physiognomik (‘Physiognomy’, 1772) and Physiognomische Fragmente zur Beförderung der Menschenkenntnis und Menschenliebe (‘Physiognomic Fragments for the Purpose of Promoting the Knowledge and Love of Mankind’, 1775–1778) rapidly translated into the major European languages.4 Literary descriptions of monstrous bodies in the last decades of the eighteenth century were mostly influenced by Lavater’s analysis, whose final goal was to trace and describe the physiognomy of the genius and of the criminal as well as the physiognomy of Jesus. While it was scientifically impossible to delineate the latter, the former were sketched out by Lavater, who would become influential for later theories of degeneration, and in particular for Lombroso’s criminological studies.5 This was also the time when the rays of light of the Enlightenment began to be obscured in Germany by the rising irrationality of Sturm und Drang that – to refer to Tzvetan Todorov’s analysis of the ‘fantastic’ in literature – eventually turned into the poetics of the ‘marvelous’ developed by the Frühromantiker in Jena, of the ‘fantastic-marvelous’ in the Romantic circle of Heidelberg and, finally, of the ‘fantastic-uncanny’ during the late Romanticism of Berlin.6 Such authors as Georg Christoph Lichtenberg – an adversary of Lavater’s “physiognomical frenzy” –7 and Johann Wolfgang von Goethe were actually funda3 See Terry Castle, ‘Spectral Technology and the Metaphorics of Modern Reverie’, Critical Inquiry, 15 (1988), pp. 26–61; Terry Castle, The Female Thermometer : Eighteenth-Century Culture and the Invention of the Uncanny (New York: Oxford University Press, 1995). 4 On the influence of Lavater’s works on European culture, see Physiognomy in Profile: Lavater’s Impact on European Culture, ed. by Melissa Percival and Graeme Tytler (Newark: University of Delaware Press, 2005). 5 See Carsten Zelle, ‘Physiognomie des Schreckens im achtzehnten Jahrhundert. Zu Johann Caspar Lavater und Charles Lebru’, in Lessing Yearbook, XXI (1989), pp. 89–102 and Carsten Zelle, ‘Soul-Semiology : On Lavater’s Physiognomic Principles’, in The Faces of Physiognomy, ed. by Ellis Shookman (Columbia: Camden House 1993), pp. 40–63. 6 See Tzvetan Todorov, The Fantastic: A Structural Approach to a Literary Genre, trans. by Richard Howard (London: Case Western Reserve University, 1973). 7 When the first book of Lavater’s Fragments appeared, Lichtenberg actually spoke of a “Raserei für Physiognomik”, i. e. a “physiognomical frenzy […] which lasted until well into the following century”, see Melissa Percival, The Appearance of Character : Physiognomy and Facial The Body of the Monster between Science and Literature 9 mental during the late Enlightenment (Spätaufkläung) for the sedimentation of a scientific and epistemological method that influenced the perception of the monstrous in both Romantic literature and aesthetics.8 Yet, the Romantic interest for the monstrous, the abnormal and the paranormal began under the aegis of Lichtenberg’s epistemological theory (Wissenslehre),9 mainly contained in his Südelbücher (‘Scrapbooks’), that is to say the author’s notebooks written between 1765 and 1799. While it emphasises the importance of experimental evidence in physics, Lichtenberg’s method reveals to be critical and analytical at the same time, as the most famous Aphorism 1602 of the collection reveals: Je mehr sich bei Erforschung der Natur die Erfahrungen und Versuche häufen, desto schwankender werden die Theorien. Es ist aber immer gut sie nicht gleich deswegen aufzugeben. Denn jede Hypothese die gut war, dient wenigstens die Erscheinungen bis auf ihre Zeit gehörig zusammen zu denken und zu behalten. Man sollte die widersprechenden Erfahrungen besonders niederlegen, bis sie sich hinlänglich angehäuft haben um es der Mühe wert zu machen ein neues Gebäude aufzuführen.10 The fundamental role played by Lichtenberg in the interfacing between science and literature at the end of the eighteenth century is not by chance underlined by Jean Paul Richter at the beginning of his Unsichtbare Loge (‘Invisible Lodge’, 1793). Published only three years after Lichtenberg wrote his theoretical Aphorism 1602, this work represents in a sense the application of the physicist’s Expression in Eighteenth-Century France (Leeds: Modern Humanities Research Association, 1999), p. 13. See further, on the debate on physiognomy, August Ohage, ‘Über “Raserei für Physiognomik in Niedersachsen” im Jahre 1777. Zur frühen Rezeption von Lavaters Physiognomischen Fragmenten’, in Das Antlitz Gottes im Antlitz des Menschen: Zugänge zu Johann Caspar Lavater, hrsg. von Karl Pestalozzi und Horst Weigelt (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1994), pp. 233–242 and Federica La Manna, Sineddoche dell’anima. Il volto nel dibattito tedesco del Settecento (Milan: Mimesis, 2012). 8 On Goethe’s experimental method and on its influence on Romanticism, see Raul Calzoni, Greta Perletti, ‘Experiment and its Travelling in German and British Romanticism’, in Travelling Concepts, Metaphors, and Narratives: Literary and Cultural Studies in an Age of Interdisciplinary Research, ed. by Sybille Baumbach, Beatrice Michaelis and Ansgar Nünning (Trier : Wissenschaftlicher Verlag, 2011), pp. 69–94. 9 Elena Agazzi, ‘Die Blitzartigkeit der kleinen Form. Gedanken über die Metapher im Bezug auf die Wissenslehre bei Georg Christoph Lichtenberg’, in Tropen und Metaphern im Gelehrtendiskurs des 18. Jahrhunderts, hrgs. von Elena Agazzi in Zusammenarbeit mit Ulrike Zeuch unter Mitwirkung von Guglielmo Gabbiadini (= Archiv für Begriffsgeschichte, Sonderheft 10, Hamburg: Felix Meiner, 2011), pp. 69–80. 10 Georg Christoph Lichtenberg, Aph. 1602 (1790/91), in Sudelbücher II, in Schriften und Briefe, hrsg. von Wolfgang Promies (München: Carl Hanser Verlag, 1971), vol. 2, Heft J, pp. 294–295: “The more experience and experiments are accumulated during the exploration of nature, the more faltering its theories become. It is always good though not to abandon them instantly. For every hypothesis which used to be good at least serves the purpose of duly summarizing and keeping all phenomena until its own time. One should lay down the conflicting experience separately, until it has accumulated sufficiently to justify the efforts necessary to edifice a new theory”. 10 Raul Calzoni / Greta Perletti experimental theory to literature and, at the same time, the impossibility to apply it to the writing process without degenerating into the monstrous. Thus, while Lichtenberg is explicitly named at the beginning of the Unsichtbare Loge as a tutelary deity of Jean Paul’s novel, the author himself reveals with his words the failure of his literary experiment. The transfer of Lichtenberg’s scientific method from physics to literature and Jean Paul’s confrontation with it represent in this instance a turning point for the author, i. e. the moment when he became a ‘Romantic’: Der Verfasser der unsichtbaren Loge hatte von Lichtenberg so starke Bußpredigten gegen die Menschenunkunde der deutschen Romanschreiber und Dichter gelesen und gegen ihre so große Unwissenheit in Realien ebensowohl als in Personalien, daß er zum Glück den Mut nicht hatte, wenigstens früher als im 28ten Jahre das romantische Wagstück zu übernehmen. Er fürchtete immer, ein Dichter müsse so gut wie ein Maler und Baumeister etwas wissen, wenn auch wenig; ja er müsse (die Sache noch höher getrieben) sogar von Grenzwissenschaften (und freilich umgrenzen alle Wissenschaften die Poesie) manches verstehen, so wie der Maler von Anatomie, von Chemie, Götterlehre und sonst.11 Significantly, it is five years before the outbreak of the Frühromantik in 1798 that Jean Paul confessed his Romantic turn and insisted in a syncretic method of knowlegde, stimulated by Lichtenberg, that eventually turned into the Symphilosophieren, the ‘philosophizing-together’ typical of the self-reflexive discourse of the Jena Romantics. Thus, the confrontation with Lichtenberg was essential for the sedimentaion of the early Romantic epistemology in Germany and for its conception of poetry as ‘universal progressive’, according to the famous ‘Fragment 116’ from Athenaeum: Die romantische Poesie ist eine progressive Universalpoesie. Ihre Bestimmung ist nicht bloß, alle getrennte Gattungen der Poesie wieder zu vereinigen, und die Poesie mit der Philosophie und Rhetorik in Berührung zu setzen. Sie will, und soll auch Poesie und Prosa, Genialität und Kritik, Kunstpoesie und Naturpoesie bald mischen, bald verschmelzen, die Poesie lebendig und gesellig, und das Leben und die Gesellschaft poetisch machen, den Witz poetisieren, und die Formen der Kunst mit gediegnem Bildungsstoff jeder Art anfüllen und sättigen, und durch die Schwingungen des Humors beseelen. Sie umfaßt alles, was nur poetisch ist, vom größten wieder mehre 11 Jean Paul, Die unsichtbare Loge, in Jean Paul: Sämtliche Werke, 6 vols., hrsg. von Norbert Miller and Gustav Lohmann (München: Hanser, 1959ff), vol. 1, Appendix I, p. 16: “The author of the Invisible Lodge had read so many of Lichtenberg’s strong penitential sermons against the lack of anthropological knowledge of most German novelists and poets and against their ignorance in natural sciences and personal characters that luckily he didn’t dare before his 28th birthday to undertake this Romantic feat. He always feared that a poet should know something so well as a painter or a carpenter, although maybe not so many things like them; yes, he even should (to go to the extreme) understand something of fringe-sciences (and all sciences fringe poetry) like the painter of anatomy, chemistry, theology and so on”. The Body of the Monster between Science and Literature 11 Systeme in sich enthaltenden Systeme der Kunst, bis zu dem Seufzer, dem Kuß, den das dichtende Kind aushaucht in kunstlosen Gesang. Sie kann sich so in das Dargestellte verlieren, daß man glauben möchte, poetische Individuen jeder Art zu charakterisieren, sei ihr eins und alles.12 The place where Romantic poetry loses itself is exactly the place where the monstrous is generated in its different meanings and manifestations, as Jean Paul demonstrates before the Romantic circle of Jena settled. In this sense, Elisa Leonzio’s contribution to this book is telling, since it retraces the scientific influences on Jean Paul’s literary works by focusing on his Philosophische Untersuchungen (‘Philosophical Inquires’), written between 1790 and 1821, and on the Unsichtbare Loge in order to show how deformity and monstrosity in these oeuvres can be read at both a philosopohical, i. e. aesthetical, and scientific level. Leonzio actually traces back the philosophical and scientific background of the novel, revealing how Paracelsus’ medicine, Frany Anton Mesmer’s magnetism, Johann Christian Reil’s and Johann Friedrich Blumenbach’s physiology as well as Lavater’s physiognomy converge with Immanuel Kant’s Kritik der Urteilskraft (‘Critique of Judgement’, 1790) in the author’s handling of the monstrous. Thanks to an embriogenetic perspective, the author reads Jean Paul’s works in the wake of these influences and succeeds in legitimating the monster and its manifestations with respect to Reil’s studies, since it was thanks to them that the abnormal began to be no longer regarded as a disturbing element contradicting an epistemological model, founded on the assumed perfection of God’s creation. Thus the monster was considered by Jean Paul as the manifestation of the many possible directions that nature can follow in its development. The presence of the monster in nature and its legitimation would encourage the growth of ‘monstrous’ figures and styles in Romantic literature, perceived as uncanny, perverted and even fatal. Nevertheless, if the form of early Romantic literature tended from an aesthetical point of view to become itself ‘monstrous’, because of its universal and progressive inclination, it should not be forgotten 12 Friedrich Schlegel, ‘Fragment 116’, in Athenaeum, in Kritische Friedrich-Schlegel-Ausgabe, hrsg. von Ernst Behler (München/Paderborn/Wien: Schöningh, 1967), vol. 2, Friedrich Schlegel. Charakteristiken und Kritiken I (1796–1801), pp. 182–183: “Romantic poetry is a progressive universal poetry. Its destiny is not merely to reunite all of the different genres and to put poetry in touch with philosophy and rhetoric. Romantic poetry wants to and should combine and fuse poetry and prose, genius and criticism, art poetry and nature poetry. It should make poetry lively and sociable, and make life and society poetic. It should poeticize wit and fill all of art’s forms with sound material of every kind to form the human soul, to animate it with flights of humor. Romantic poetry embraces everything that is purely poetic, from the greatest art systems, which contain within them still more systems, all the way down to the sigh, the kiss that a poeticizing child breathes out in an artless song. Romantic poetry can lose itself in what is represented to the extent that one might believe that it exists solely to characterize poetic individuals of all types”. 12 Raul Calzoni / Greta Perletti that the appearance of monsters in German literature is not so common in the works of the authors belonging to the circle of Jena: Novalis, the brothers August Wilhelm and Friedrich Schlegel, but even Friedrich Schleiermacher and August Ludwig Hülsen did not actually offer literary representation of the monstrous.13 The inclination to magic and to the ‘marvelous’ – i. e. “the supernatural accepted” –14 of their poetry actually prevented them from representing monsters and this differentiates the poetry of Fruhromantik from that one of the so-called Spätromantik. In both Heidelberg and Berlin, the centres of German late Romanticism, the marvelous got respectively the traits of the ‘fantastic-marvelous’ and the ‘fantastic-uncanny’.15 In the first case, it is already the title of Achim von Arnim and Clemens Brentano’s collection of Volkslieder (‘popular songs’) published between 1805 and 1808 to vehiculate the importance of the ‘fantasticmarvelous’ for the Heidelberg Romantic circle: Des Knaben Wunderhorn: Alte deutsche Lieder (‘The Boy’s Magic Horn: Old German Songs’). As far as the monster is concerned, it is well known that it also was in Heidelberg that the brothers Grimm profited from their philological and ethnographical researches to write the Kinder- und Hausmärchen (‘Children’s and Household Tales’, 1812–1815). In this collection of fairy tales, directly influenced by Arnim and Brentano’s Magic Horn, the brothers Grimm wanted to preserve from oblivion an entire German oral tradition within the programme of the Romantic nationalism. Nevertheless, in the first edition of their anthology, the Grimms included Charles Perrault’s tales, published in Paris in 1697 and written for the literary salons of an aristocratic French audience. It is incidentally in the different ‘use’ of the monster in the Grimms’ and Perrault’s tales that the Romantic turning point from ‘fantastic-marvelous’ to ‘fantastic-uncanny’ took place, since Perrault and his contemporary women writers keep a light touch throughout, even when they delight in producing shivers and thrills. But in the Grimm Brothers’ later, seminal anthology, the tally of blood-drinking, child-stealing, omophagous assailants cannot be made, and the mood turns sinister. Besides the familiar stories ‘The Juniper Tree’ and ‘Hansel and Gretel’, many more introduce ravening ogres and flesh-eating witches; only occasionally will a Mother Holle perform an act of kindness.16 13 With respect to this point we can speak of a ‘physiology of poetry’, mainly developed by Novalis in the Circle of Jena and based on John Brown’s Elementa medicinae (1780), as Ethel Matala de Mazza does in Der verfaßte Körper : Zum Projekt einer organischen Gemeinschaft in der Politischen Romantik (Freiburg im Breisgau: Rombach, 1999), p. 144. 14 Todorov, The Fantastic, p. 42. 15 Todorov, The Fantastic, p. 42. 16 Marina Warner, Monsters of Our Own Making: The Peculiar Pleasures of Fear (Lexington: The University Press of Kentucky, 2007), p. 310. The Body of the Monster between Science and Literature 13 This sinister imaginary was fundamental for the “development of the so-called black Romanticism”17 and the disposition for the ‘fantastic-uncanny’ that characterised it. It is not by chance that Tzvetan Todorov explicitly referred to the ‘uncanny’ in order to understand the ‘fantastic’ as an aesthetic category, since it was over the literary works of German late Romanticism that Sigmund Freud elaborated psychoanalysis. It is in particular with regard to E.T.A. Hoffmann’s Der Sandmann (‘The Sandman’, 1812) that Freud elaborated the theory of the uncanny, because it is in the works of this German Romantic writer that the monster manifests its liminal condition as an abnormal body able to interrogate man on human nature and mind. It this book Raul Calzoni’s contribution focuses therefore on the figure of the vampire, its birth and its religious, social and literary meanings between the Enlightenment and Romanticism. Suspended between life and death and therefore able to embody the innest fears of the human soul, the vampire proves to be an abnormal body and, like many of the monsters that feature in this book, it is essentially a mixture […] of two realms, the animal and the human: the man with the head of an ox, the man with a bird’s feet – monsters. It is the blending, the mixture of two species: the pig with a sheep’s head is a monster. It is the mixture of two individuals: the person who has two heads and one body or two bodies and one head is a monster. It is the mixture of two sexes: the person who is both male and female is a monster. It is a mixture of life and death: the fetus born with a morphology that means it will not be able to live but that nonetheless survives for some minutes or days is a monster. Finally, it is a mixture of forms: the person who has neither arms nor legs, like a snake, is a monster.18 But the monster is also a metaphor for the writing process itself, which like a vampire takes nourishment from other corpora; thus Hoffmann has reenacted with his tale Vampirismus (1821) an uncanny literary tradition, which began with Bürger’s Lenore (‘Ellenore’, 1773) during the Sturm und Drang and then with the contribution of Goethe’s Braut von Korinth (‘The Bride of Corinth’, 1798), the Brothers Grimm and Ludwig Tieck, ended up in the late Romanticism with Tieck’s own works and Heinrich von Kleist’s theatre, novellas and journalism.19 Another suitable methaphor for the writer is therefore the monstrous 17 Monika Schmitz-Emans, ‘Theories of Romanticism: The First Two Hundred Years’, in Nonfictional Romantic Prose: Expanding Borders, ed. by Steven P. Sondrup and Virgil Nemoianu (Amsterdam: John Benjamins, 2004), p. 24. 18 Michel Foucault, Abnormal: Lectures at the Collwge de France, 1974–1975, ed. by Valerio Marchetti and Antonella Salomoni, trans. by Graham Burchell (New York: Picador, 2003), p. 63. 19 On Ludwig Tieck’s importance for the Romantic ‘fantastic’ and its relapses on Hoffmann, Freud and Todorov, see Marc Falkenberg, Rethinking the Uncanny in Hoffmann and Tieck (Frankfurt am Main-Berlin: Peter Lang, 2005). 14 Raul Calzoni / Greta Perletti ‘poison mixer’ as it is portrayed in Kleist’s play Kätchen von Heilbronn oder Die Feuerprobe (‘Katie of Heilbronn or The Trial by Fire’, 1807–1808) to which Lorella Bosco devotes her contribution to this book. Kunegunde’s sexual desire and the monster as a tempting and erotic body are the main topic of this play – and all of these are incidentally features belonging to Hoffmann’s and Goethe’s vampiric bodies as well. Allowedly based on the commixture between fact and fiction typical of Kleist’s literary oeuvres, this play shows the body of the monster as a manifestation of the moral decline, i. e. as a death process, in which life becomes a mask, a mere simulacrum. Kunigunde is therefore a monstrous conglomerate of body parts of different origins and she owes her beauty to well applied concealment make-up and to costuming. She simulates life even though her body is made out of anorganic, dead materials like metals. She is indeed a combination of metal, flesh and humanoid prostheses, a sort of ‘female Golem’. The reference to the Golem made by Bosco in her essay opens up a perspective on the monster that leads to a literary handling of the monster as a tool to prove the limits of human creative power and at the same time to overcome melancholia and eventually death. In her essay on Adalbert Stifter’s Turmalin (‘Tourmaline’, 1853), Micaela Latini actually shows how the central theme of the story is an obscure pain that infects mind and soul with melancholia and manifests itself in the primitiveness of the protagonist of the tale. Tourmaline’s enormous head represents the demonic power of imagination that cannot be totally translated into form, and this confirms that poetry does not reproduce the world, but produces it. During Realism, Stifter used the abnormal to criticize the Romantic tendency to take distance from the real world that eventually turned into insanity. Stifter’s criticism of the Romantic ‘fantastic’, which he believed to be a degeneration of reason, is typical of the time when he produced his works, i. e. a period when Positivism and empirical evidence prevailed over Romanticism and imagination. And yet, in another Austrian author of the second half of the nineteenth century, the monster re-emerges as an aestethical, ethical and even psychological device able to criticize the unilateral exercise of empirical methods in science and to assert the human need for creative power and imagination. As in the case of Mary Shelley’s modern Prometheus, Frankenstein (1818), Anna Cappellotto deals in her essay with the attempt to produce human beings in a laboratory, which in German tradition dates at least back to Paracelsus, who theorized in his treatise De generatione rerum naturalium (1537) the receipt of his man-made man: a little creature having the appearance of a newborn, the so-called Homunculus. Starting from Rudolf Steiner’s reading of this figure, according to whom modern science intended the Humanities as “fantasy and dreaming”,20 Cappellotto demonstrates that in such works as 20 Rudolf Steiner, Homunkulus, public lecture, Berlin, March 26, 1914, in Geisteswissenschaft The Body of the Monster between Science and Literature 15 Goethe’s Faust (1831) and Robert Hamerling’s Homunculus. Moderne Epos in zehn Gesängen (‘Homunculus. A Modern Epic in 10 Cantos’, 1888), this little creature is “a symbol, presumably containing within himself multiple, if not inexhaustible semantic ambiguities”.21 Rather than belonging to the ‘fantastic’, this creature actually becomes in Goethe’s and Hamerling’s works an instrument of criticism of the Positivistic attitude of the natural sciences, which purported to have a complete comprehension of the human being. The Homunculus thus confirms the belief that monstrosity has to do less with diversity in kind than with the profusion of forms which qualifies nature itself. Monstrous Anatomies in British Culture Also in British culture, the years between the late eighteenth and the early nineteenth century are widely recognized as pivotal for the emergence of new epistemologies of monstrosity. This is the moment when the monster’s body most fully foregrounds the importance of its anatomy, turning the monster into an interesting specimen that invites the gaze of natural philosophers, anatomists and practitioners of medicine. It is in this way that the body of the monster seems a privileged site to observe the entrance of what Rosemarie Garland Thomson calls the ‘extraordinary body’ into the domain of science: By the eighteenth century the monster’s power to inspire terror, awe, wonder, and divination was being eroded by science, which sought to classify and master rather than revere the extraordinary body. The scientist’s and philosopher’s cabinets of curiosities were transformed into the medical man’s dissection table. The once marvelous body that was taken as a map of human fate now began to be seen as an aberrant body that marked the borders between the normal and the pathological.22 Garland traces here a familiar line of argument for the scholarly investigation of monstrosity, one that turns monsters from prodigies – indicating or showing (as in the etymology of the term ‘monstrum’, from ‘monstrare’, ‘to show’) the divine will or prefiguring divine punishment – to wonders to be collected and shown in the Wunderkammern of many European countries between the fifteenth and sixteenth century, and then to the naturalized objects used for scientific inquiry. While this linear narrative dominated Lorraine Daston and Katherine Park’s als Lebensgut (Dornach: Rudolf Steiner Verlag, 1959), p. 12. 21 Latimer Dan, ‘Homunculus as Symbol: Semantic and Dramatic Functions of the Figure in Goethe’s Faust’, MLN, 89, German Issue (1974), p. 812. 22 Rosemarie Garland Thompson, Extraordinary Bodies: Figuring Physical Disability in American Culture and Literature (New York: Columbia University Press, 1997), p. 57. 16 Raul Calzoni / Greta Perletti seminal work on monsters,23 which first sparked the interest of historians of science, authors tend today to demystify what Daston and Park themselves call, in their later masterpiece Wonders and the Order of Nature, a “teleological model, organized as a progress toward rationalization and naturalization”.24 This is especially true for the period of time that is the focus of this volume; a time which it has become established practice in Anglophone criticism to label ‘the long nineteenth century’, and which spans between the late eighteenth century and the late nineteenth century, between the works of the first Romantic generation and the Victorian age. As Stephen Pender notes, throughout the eighteenth century, rather than being kept separated, “the marvelous and the scientific coexisted in the reception and study of monsters and continued to do so long after the monster’s absorption by legitimate science”.25 This is not surprising, if we keep in mind that ‘the marvelous’ was by no means perceived to be an antagonist of ‘the scientist’: as the title of Richard Holmes’s fine book reminds us, the years that witnessed the encounter between the Romantics and the new developments of what (from 1833 onwards) would be termed ‘science’ might be defined “the age of wonder”,26 thereby foregrounding the very aspect connected to the monster’s body which, according to the linear and telic narrative describing the trajectory of monsters in the history of science, would be supplanted by the desire for classification and naturalization. While the effort to systematize knowledge about monsters and to debunk their supposedly supernatural value can be traced as early as in Sir Francis Bacon’s New Atlantis (1627), the taste for the ‘fantastic’ continued to thrive (as was the case with German culture), albeit under different guises. If the supernatural as such was dismissed as a vestige of superstition, British culture displayed a fascination with the exotic, the grotesque, and the aberrant throughout the Enlightenment and post-Enlightenment years. As Francesca Di Blasio’s contribution to this volume shows, the arrival of Omai on the British soil in the 1770s is an example of this fascination with what deviates from the norm: as the ‘noble savage’ is soon turned into an object of display, Omai becomes the monstrous other, a freakish subaltern self that can be subjected to the dominant white gaze. While novelist Fanny Burney provides a counter-narrative to the 23 Lorraine Daston and Katherine Park, ‘Unnatural Conceptions: The Study of Monsters in Sixteenth- and Seventeenth-Century France and England’, Past and Present, 92 (1981), pp. 20–54. 24 Lorraine Daston and Katherine Park, Wonders and the Order of Nature, 1150–1750 (New York: Zone Books, 1998). 25 Stephen Pender, ‘“No Monsters at the Resurrection”: Inside Some Conjoined Twins’, in Monster Theory : Reading Culture, ed. by Jeoffrey Jerome Cohen (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota, 1996), p. 150. 26 See Richard Holmes, The Age of Wonder : How the Romantic Generation Discovered the Beauty and Terror of Science (New York: Harper Collins, 2008). The Body of the Monster between Science and Literature 17 objectifying attitude shown by many commentators who described the encounter with the Polynesian man, Di Blasio shows the extent to which also contemporary exhibitions can replicate the colonial paradigm when dealing with the display of the living ‘other’, coming from the most remote and exotic places of the empire. In its refusal to acknowledge the reciprocity involved in the process of viewing the other, the dominant white gaze assimilates the monstrosity of Omai’s body to the monstrosity of women’s bodies in patriarchal society : like the exotic, freak ‘other’, also women are subjected to a similar reifying process and are thus doomed to inhabit a similar marginality. The closing decades of the eighteenth century display a markedly materialistic attitude towards the body of the monster. Paul Youngquist opens his book on monstrosity and British Romanticism with the famous anatomist John Hunter’s quest for the body of the man known as “the Irish giant”27 – whose impressive bones can still be seen (or gazed at) at the Hunterian Museum in London – while Stephen Asma in his historical and cultural exploration of monsters focuses on the work by Hunter and William Lawrence in the UK and by Geoffroy Saint-Hilaire in France to trace the new epistemological significance of monsters: aberrant bodies were now not only observed but also compared, measured and in some cases manipulated, because monstrosity was now recognized to have the potential for improving knowledge in embryology and developmental morphology.28 Sharon Ruston’s essay places in this context her discussion of the changing definitions of the monstrous body, whose importance is both physical and moral. Thus, in the work of conservative thinkers like Edmund Burke and Hannah More, the monstrous body functions as an instrument which, by foregrounding the dangers of political and moral aberrations, establishes the need for the ‘natural’ system of British monarchy and for the ‘natural’ hierarchies of British society. At the same time, Ruston also illustrates one of the most important tenets of nineteenth-century conceptions of monstrosity : namely, the fact that the monstrous body is increasingly conceived of as contiguous to rather than radically different from the normal body. If the medical and philosophical debates of the Romantic age increasingly authorize the belief that between the normal and the monstrous organism there is no ontological difference, Lawrence goes as far as to propose that monsters in nature have actually been created by man. While this anticipates Darwin’s later view (to be found especially in The Descent of Man, 1871) that in nature the most evidently monstrous species are 27 Paul Youngquist, Monstrosities: Bodies and British Romanticism (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2003), pp. 3–7. 28 See Stephen T. Asma, On Monsters: An Unnatural History of Our Worst Fears (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2009), pp. 154–161. 18 Raul Calzoni / Greta Perletti the result of human artificial selection, Lawrence’s ideas about the role of humans in creating monstrosity takes up the issue of responsibility, which will continue to resonate throughout the century, most famously in Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein but also in fin-de-siwcle works such as H. G. Wells’s The Island of Doctor Moreau (1896). The question of the similarities between the healthy and the monstrous body exerts a pervasive fascination also in Victorian culture, encouraging theorists and writers alike to explore to the full the implications of the exchange between the aberrant and the normal. This aspect is what qualifies, for Juliet Halberstam in her influential book Skin Shows: Gothic Horror and the Technology of Monsters (1995), the new ‘monsters of modernity’ that emerge in Anglophone culture in the late eighteenth and the early nineteenth century. The epistemological novelty springing from the contiguity between monstrous and normal anatomies is re-read by Halberstam as the peculiarity of Gothic writing, the literary genre that most typically hosts the ‘monsters of modernity’ in British and American fiction: Gothic, I argue, marks a peculiarly modern preoccupation with boundaries, and their collapse. Gothic monsters, furthermore, differ from the monsters that came before the nineteenth century in that the monsters of modernity are characterized by their proximity to humans.29 This proximity encourages in Victorian imagination a continuous process of probing the limits and the potentialities of boundaries, thereby questioning – if not demystifying – accepted values and codes of behavior. This is especially evident in sensation fiction, a literary sub-genre of Gothic fiction that receives its name from a questioning of the boundaries that separate physiology and pathology : receiving sensory impressions from reading this kind of fiction was regarded (most famously by John Ruskin in his ‘Fiction Foul and Fair’, 1860) as a process that could easily lead to nervous impairment.30 Moreover, as Flora De Giovanni shows in her essay, sensation fiction engages a dialogue with current medical theories and discourses by insistently staging impaired bodies and 29 Halberstam, Skin Shows, p. 23. 30 For a discussion of the medical and cultural discourses supporting the pathological effects of sensation fiction from the 1850s to the 1890s see Angelique Richardson, Love and Eugenics in the Late Nineteenth Century : Rational Reproduction and the New Woman (Oxford and New York: Oxford University Press, 2003), pp. 85–91. More generally on the relations between sensation fiction and the medical context see D. A. Miller, ‘Cage aux folles: Sensation and Gender in Wilkie Collins’s The Woman in White’, Representations, 14 (1986), pp. 107–136; Sally Shuttleworth, ‘“Preaching to the Nerves”: Psychological Discourse in Sensation Fiction’, in A Question of Identity : Women, Science, and Literature, ed. by Marina Benjamin (New Brunswick: Rutgers University Press, 1993), pp. 192–222; Pamela K. Gilbert, ‘Sensation Fiction and the Medical Context’, in The Cambridge Companion to Sensation Fiction, ed. by Andrew Mangham (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2013), pp. 182–196. The Body of the Monster between Science and Literature 19 mental illnesses. Adopting the critical perspective of disability studies, De Giovanni focuses on Wilkie Collins’s writing in order to expose his complex attitude towards the Victorian representations of the ‘otherness’ embodied by the disabled or the deformed. If, on the one hand, Collins rejects a simplistic acceptance of the binary oppositions that sustain the stereotypical depiction of the freak, on the other hand his disabled characters are exhibited as spectacle, and fail to elude the marginality to which abnormal bodies are confined within Victorian culture. Despite the fascination with the possibility of exploring the potential inherent in unsettling boundaries and problematizing the status of monster-like characters, Collins’s narratives ultimately revert to the necessary subjection of the abnormal body. This is something akin to what Erin O’Connor argues in her exploration of Victorian freak shows, when she shows that while the deformity of the freak is recognized as the badge of unique individuality, “celebrating pathological formation as the ultimate mark of personal distinction”,31 yet this potentially empowering aspect is demystified by the endless repeatability of deformity. The centrality of monsters and freak shows in Victorian imagination is thus more apparent than real, as the deformed body is actually denied the possibility to actively shape or modify the definition of the Victorian unique self: With the exception of celebrities such as Tom Thumb, these figures were infinitely renewable – the names and faces changed over time, but the basic configuration of the show remained the same. The result was a sort of assembly-line individualism, an endless procession of human oddities whose cumulative impact was to standardize abnormality itself, to reduce the scene of nature’s bounty to a series of predictable, replaceable originals.32 Alessandra Violi’s contribution further explores the process of crossing boundaries, focusing on the body that is suspended between death and life, one of the most uncanny examples of the monstrous anatomies that inhabit Victorian imagination. The uncertain separation of death from life, an idea deriving from the scientific and medical studies in the physiology of dying and in the experiments with altered mental states,33 generates the irresistible fantasy of bodies that remain stuck in suspended animation. Hibernated bodies, trance-like states, vampires and mummies are all examples of a cultural obsession with boundaries that fail to hold, blurring the distinction between consciousness and 31 Erin O’Connor, Raw Material: Producing Pathology in Victorian Culture (Durham and London: Duke University Press, 2000), p. 189. 32 O’Connor, Raw Material, p. 195. 33 On the proliferation of the so-called Victorian mental sciences see the anthology edited by Sally Shuttleworth and Jenny Bourne Taylor, Embodied Selves: An Anthology of Psychological Texts, 1830–1890 (New York: Oxford University Press, 1998). See also Martin Willis, Mesmerists, Monsters and Machines (Kent: The Kent State University Press, 2006). 20 Raul Calzoni / Greta Perletti unconsciousness, life and death. If this uncertainty results in the proliferation of cultural fears (most notably, the fear of premature burial), by analyzing the discourses and fantasies circulating around these fears Violi shows that the undead can be recognized as a monster whose body becomes the symbol of not just the inevitable extinction of life, but also its indefinite extension. Thus, by eliciting a deeply ambivalent feeling, this monstrous anatomy encourages the experience of the uncanny, in which we feel both fascination with and horror at what appears to be ‘strangely familiar’: as in Freud’s conception of ‘the double’, who is regarded as both a harbinger of death and a guarantee of immortality,34 also nineteenth century monsters prove, to use the words of one of Jeffrey Jerome Cohen’s ‘Seven Theses’ on monstrosity, that “Fear of the Monster is Really a Kind of Desire”.35 This ambivalence affects also the representation of the monstrous body of nineteenth-century London, as Laura Di Michele’s essay illustrates, with examples from, among others, Charles Dickens, Robert Louis Stevenson, Oscar Wilde and Bram Stoker. A polymorphic and sickly organism, darkening and poisoning not just the East End but also the respectable West End and the Crystal Palace – which at mid–century had been the symbol of the technological and commercial power of the British empire and had established London as the thriving capital city of the European world – London is imagined as a place where the rich and the poor, cleanliness and mud, white and black incessantly meet and mix, enveloped in the all-pervading fog and moving on and around the filthy waters of the Thames. Once again, what the monstrous anatomy foregrounds is the impossibility of resorting to secure boundaries, protecting categories; uncertainty and proximity result in a process of relentless contamination. Because of its non-ontological difference from the normal, as the century progresses the monster becomes an instrument for unsettling and questioning the definition of the human itself. As Kelly Hurley argues, after Darwinian ideas spread the belief that change (and adaptation or resistance to change) is the dominant process in the evolution of species, the boundaries of the human body itself are put into question: “Matter is no longer subordinate to form […], bodies are without integrity or stability ; they are instead composite and changeful”.36 This is particularly evident in fin-de-siwcle fantasies of humans and animals disturbingly shading into one another – a fascinating subject that has 34 See Sigmund Freud, ‘The “Uncanny”’, in Writings on Art and Literature, ed. by Werner Hamacher and David E. Wellbery (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1997), pp. 193–233. 35 Jeffrey Jerome Cohen, ‘Monster Culture (Seven Theses)’, in Monster Theory : Reading Culture (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1996), p. 16. 36 Kelly Hurley, The Gothic Body: Sexuality, Materialism and Degeneration at the ‘Fin de Siwcle’ (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996), p. 9. The Body of the Monster between Science and Literature 21 recently been explored by Virginia Richter’s study on Literature after Darwin.37 However, as illustrated by the contributions in this volume by Maria Teresa Chialant and Francesca Guidotti, what Hurley calls “new models of the human as abhuman, as bodily ambiguated or otherwise discontinuous in identity”38 emerge also through more unsettling associations, such as the association to the world of formless things or to the realm of the invisible unseen. Chialant’s essay addresses the relations between the monster and the formless or the indefinite; through an analysis of works by Mary Shelley, Edward Bulwer-Lytton, Rudyard Kipling and H.G. Wells, Chialant explores the extent to which nineteenth-century writers imagine the monstrous by evoking undifferentiated beings or objects. Suspended between scientific and supernatural explanations, between the genre of Gothic and science fiction, these works engage with the strange physicality of bodies that, lacking or refusing a definite shape, resist classification and defy the usual categories of definition for identity and agency. Chialant’s essay points to the importance of the relation human-thing that has recently been at the core of Bill Brown’s ‘thing theory’.39 Within this theoretical framework, the importance of things goes beyond their role as objects of consumption and fetish; rather, things interact with the definition of identity, acting as mediators between subjects and objects. Initially focused especially on eighteenth-century culture,40 thing theory has recently spurred some interesting works also in Victorian studies.41 Guidotti’s essay explores the unsettling effects of invisibility and the unseen in the Victorian world, which is usually associated to a special interest in vision and which seems to be obsessed with the fantasy of incessant display and with the power of the scopic regime. Focusing on H. G. Wells’s The Invisible Man, Guidotti shows how the unseen breaks into the everyday, generating a monstrous anatomy that is all the more disturbing because of its paradoxical corporeality, 37 Virginia Richter, Literature After Darwin: Human Beasts in Western Fiction, 1859–1939 (Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, 2011). 38 Hurley, The Gothic Body, p. 5. 39 See Bill Brown, ‘Thing Theory’, Critical Inquiry, 28 (2001), pp. 1–16; Bill Brown, A Sense of Things: The Object Matter of American Literature (Chicago: Chicago University Press, 2003). 40 To mention but few examples: Cynthia Wall, The Prose of Things: Transformation of Description in the Eighteenth Century (Chicago: Chicago University Press, 2006); The Secret Life of Things: Animals, Objects, and It-Narratives in Eighteenth-Century England, ed. by Mark Blackwell (Lewisburg: Bucknell University Press, 2007); Julie Park, The Self & It: Novel Objects in Eighteenth-Century England (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 2010). 41 Elaine Freedgood, The Ideas in Things: Fugitive Meaning in the Victorian Novel (Chicago: Chicago University Press, 2006); Katharina Boehm, Bodies and Things in Nineteenth-Century Literature and Culture (Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, 2012); John Plotz, ‘Materiality in Theory : What to Make of Victorian Things, Objects, and Commodities’, in The Oxford Handbook of Victorian Literary Culture, ed. by Juliet John (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2015 [forthcoming]). 22 Raul Calzoni / Greta Perletti problematically mixing together absence and presence, emptiness and materiality. The body that matters in spite of (and because of) its invisibility calls for different interpretative systems, just as the concluding chapter of the novel foregrounds the invisibility of Griffin’s notes to Marvel: by defying interpretation, also the text becomes a monstrous anatomy that calls for a different paradigm of visibility and a different gaze. The last three contributions of this volume, by Sara Damiani, Daniela Crocetti and Michele Cometa, shed light on one particular figuration of monstrous anatomy : the transplanted body and the hermaphrodite that fascinate nineteenth-century imagination, and, on the other hand, Baubo, a mythical figure that surfaces in a number of writings by Sigmund Freud, in the early twentieth century. By introducing Bruno Latour’s concept of the seamless modern body that is constructed through the elision or repression of unthinkable processes of mixture and hybridization, Damiani’s essay explores the extent to which the modern body is haunted by its unconscious, characterized by fantasies that continuously threaten to disrupt the body’s integrity. This is especially true in the context of nineteenth-century medical practices, which create new possibilities for the manipulation, fragmentation and recombination of bodies. The transplanted body gives flesh to the blurring of boundaries which, as we have seen, dominates the imagination of the monstrous anatomy in the nineteenth century : the literary and cinematic explorations of organ transplants show that when the parts of different bodies are grafted together personal identity is disrupted by the confusion between the human and the animal or by the juxtaposition of fragments that belong to social categories (most typically, the criminal and the respectable person, or the black and the white) that should be kept separated. Crocetti’s essay traces the metamorphoses that have affected the cultural representations of the hermaphrodite, one of the most pervasive figurations of monstrous anatomies in the Western imagination. The story of the hermaphrodite across centuries illustrates the monster’s transformation from a beautiful marvel (as in the famous Borghese Hermaphroditus, the seventeenth-century copy of a Hellenistic statue) into an object of medical study, aimed at policing normative codes of gender politics and behaviors and then, in Virginia Woolf ’s writing, into a trope that allows her to explore and overcome gender restrictions. By illustrating a number of eighteenth- and nineteenth-century medical theories and case studies – including the story of Herculine Barbin, who features in Michel Foucault’s History of Sexuality42 and was made public by Foucault 42 See Michel Foucault, The History of Sexuality, trans. by Robert Hurley (London: Penguin, 1998), vol. 1, The Will to Knowledge. The Body of the Monster between Science and Literature 23 himself, who published her memoirs and wrote a famous introduction for the English edition –43 Crocetti reveals the full extent of the medically driven social project that strived to prevent gender deviant and homosexual activity. Concluding our journey through monstrous anatomies with an incursion into the early twentieth century, Cometa’s essay uses the figure of Baubo in Freud’s writings as an illustration of the extent to which the monster, together with literature itself, properly becomes ‘the place of the other’, seeking to compensate for the fear of what technology and professionalization – as well as the teleologically-oriented Positivistic philosophy that aimed to understand them – attempted to exorcise and remove. At that time, the monster was used not only to foreground ancestral fears but also to tame the different other, so that it could be named and represented. Thus Freud evoked in his fin-de-siwcle psychoanalysis a complex mythological figure: the almost forgotten mythical wife of Disaule but also the maid who welcomes Demeter in Eleusis when she is desperately seeking for her daughter Persephone. Freud’s essay ‘Mythologische Parallel zu einer plastischen Zwangsvorstellungen’ (‘A Mythological Parallel to a Visual Obsession’, 1916) is a perfect integration of psychoanalytic reasoning, teratological and mythological evocation – the figure of Baubo herself – as well as a reflection on the survival of this image in modernity, after Goethe’s evocation of the wife of Disaule in his Faust. In order to integrate heterogeneous discourses, Freud’s text deals with the phenomenological history of monsters across the centuries, summoned up by Cometa as follows: In the Middle Ages, monsters had found a place in the great theological theories; as a result, they seem to have been fed less by literature than by theology. In later centuries, monsters featured in the scientific domains of geographical explorations, zoology and alchemy. While in the nineteenth century monsters became the domain of physiology as well as of comparative anatomy and of the bizarre science of teratology, in the twentieth century they come under the jurisdiction of the sciences of the psyche. These sciences retain a double function: on the one hand, they come to account for the workings of the soul; on the other, in the wake of the aesthetical quality that is typical of early psychology, they explore the fantastic world that can be found in literature, which taps into the depths of the psyche itself.44 By referring to Baubo’s phenomenology, Cometa demonstrates in his essay that psychoanalysis and the literature inspired by it have hosted those monsters which had been exiled by the unconscious in the scientific and pseudoscientific literature of the past. And it is not by chance that to debate this thesis the author 43 See Michel Foucault, ‘Preface’, in Herculine Barbin: Being the Recently Discovered Memoirs of a Nineteenth Century French Hermaphrodite, trans. by Richard McDougall (New York: Pantheon Books, 1980), pp. vii–xvii. 44 See Michele Cometa’s essay in this book, p. 299. 24 Raul Calzoni / Greta Perletti quotes a very telling passage taken from Todorov’s study on the ‘fantastic’, where it is said that psychoanalysis has replaced (and thereby made useless) the literature of the fantastic. There is no need to resort to the devil in order to speak of an excessive sexual desire, and none to resort to vampires in order to designate the attraction exerted by corpses: psychoanalysis, and the literature which is directly or indirectly inspired by it, deal with these matters in undisguised terms.45 Be this true or not, there is no doubt that the ‘fantastic’ in its different manifestations has been representing the very reason for the fascination and disgust with monsters throughout the centuries. According to Michel Foucault, from the Medieval period, throughout Renaissance till the nineteenth century, variations or types of monsters share the property of being strange ‘mixtures’. Monsters thus defy our categories of understanding, be they civil, scientific, religious, ethical or aesthetical. Therefore monsters are “Antiphysis”, as Foucault defined them in one of his lectures of the 1974–1975 year, that is to say “the kind of natural irregularity that calls law into question and disables it”.46 Is this not also true for the ‘fantastic’ in literature and science, which thanks to the liminal figure of the monster has been able to put into question established categories, religions, laws, methods and eventually disable them? Acknowledgments The translation of Michele Cometa’s contribution is by Greta Perletti. We are very grateful to the contributors of this book for their patience and for the quality of their texts. We would also like to thanks Elena Agazzi and Vita Fortunati for the possibility of publishing this book in the series “ACUME 2 – Interfacing Science, Literature, and the Humanities”. Raul Calzoni Greta Perletti 45 Todorov, The Fantastic, p. 160. 46 Foucault, Abnormal, p. 64. Elisa Leonzio Deformity and Monstrosity: Jean Paul between Embryogenesis and the Concept of Life Many monographs and articles explore the presence and relevance of the scientific discourse in Jean Paul’s literary and philosophical work.1 Many of these studies offer large space to medicine, both as a practice (i. e. doctors and their patients, descriptions of pathologies and treatments) and as a theoretical discipline (in its branches, in particular physiology and anatomy). Until now, however, no scholar has considered the numerous ‘grotesque’, deformed and monstrous bodies, which populate Jean Paul’s narrative, under the scope of embryogenesis and eighteenth-century physiology and, in particular, with respect to Johann Friedrich Blumenbach’s and Johann Christian Reil’s theories of Bildungstrieb (‘formative drive’) and Lebenskraft (‘vital force’). Still, without minimizing the influence which was wielded on Jean Paul by the medicine of Paracelsus and, in his wake, the magnetism of Mesmer, as well as Stahl’s physiology, on the one hand, and Lavater’s physiognomy, on the other hand, only the reflection on the ‘living organism’ offered by Blumenbach and Reil in their works can cast light on Jean Paul’s literary representation of science and its poetological significance. The first part of this paper is therefore devoted to a brief reconstruction of the debate on monstrosity in eighteenth-century German physiology, paying particular attention to the works of Kant, Blumenbach and Reil. In the second part, thanks to the analysis of some of Jean Paul’s narrative and philosophical works – including the Philosophische Untersuchungen (‘Philo1 The most significant among these are: Maximilian Rankl, Jean Paul und die Naturwissenschaft (Frankfurt am Main: Peter Lang, 1987); Werner Gerabek, Naturphilosophie und Dichtung bei Jean Paul: das Problem des commercium mentis et corporis (Stuttgart: Heinz Akad. Verl., 1988); Hans Esselborn, Das Universum der Bilder : die Naturwissenschaft in den Schriften Jean Pauls (Tübingen: Niemeyer, 1989); Alexander Košenina, Ernst Platners Anthropologie und Philosophie (Würzburg: Königshausen & Neumann, 1989); Maximilian Bergengruen, Schöne Seelen, groteske Körper. Jean Pauls ästhetische Dynamisierung der Anthropologie (Hamburg: Meiner, 2003); Sabine Eickenrodt, Augen-Spiel. Jean Pauls optische Metaphorik der Unsterblichkeit (Göttingen: Wallstein, 2006).