Passion and Narration in the Contemporary Arab Novel

1 Introduction

In this article, we propose to explore an aspect of semiotics that has been slow to settle itself as a central issue within the narrative semiotics. Nowadays, a substantive debate has been opened on the achievements and prospects of Greimas’ semiotics of inspiration. The history of three decades of semiotic theory is going through a transit, from the world of facts to the world of consciousness, through the passionate body (Ouellet 1997). This story is at the core of the most obvious and the most enigmatic of Greimassian semiotics renewals in recent years.

For Greimas’semiotics, passion remains by nature elusive and continues to raise some questions (Greimas and Fontanille 1993: 3). This article sheds a semiotic light on one of these issues to show the passage from the passionate to the modal, without claiming that this work has a theoretical range. As noted by Greimas:

If, at the semionarrative level, we succeed in demonstrating the autonomy of the dimension on which passional transformations unfold, during the analysis of the texts we can expect to outline progressively a discursive schema sufficiently general to account for various stages of passion and organize them into “narratives”. But before envisioning such generalizations, which require numerous concrete analyses, we should examine first of all the setting into discourse of passional modalizations and arrangements. (Greimas and Fontanille 1993: 32)

If one stands by the idea of “establishment,” which comes back each time we consult the dictionary about passional configurations, we find ourselves facing confusion between the modal and passionate orders, such that it prevents an exhaustive explanation of passional effect (Greimas and Fontanille 1993: 33).

For example, “terror,” which will be the subject of our analysis in this paper, can be translated as an addition between “a will” and a “cannot-not-do,” overtaking “the capacity to do,” as found in dictionaries, to define other passion as “a disposition to” or a “feeling that bears to,” etc. What happens when this passionate speech state is embedded in a well-defined narrative? To approach this practical issue, our choice was to focus on a sequence of the novel al-Hayy al-Latini (‘Latin Quarter’) by Suhayl Idris, to be entitled “Manipulation and Terror.” What is it about exactly?

The story of Latin Quarter is very simple; it is about a young Lebanese man who arrives in Paris to prepare a doctoral thesis in literature. This motivation seems secondary in relation to what the hero expects from this displacement. On the boat that takes him to Marseille, he announces plainly that he wants to flee the crushing weight of Eastern reality and find an escape from his enduring anguish. Meanwhile, he meets Jeannine, who comes to Paris for her studies in journalism. After hesitating to enter into a relationship with the hero, Jeannine does her best to make him happy. She opens the doors to unknown experiences. Through Jeannine, he discovers Western culture, accompanying her to the cinema, where he becomes familiar with the new wave of French cinema. They regularly visit museums, where he learns about the history of France, the emblem of Western culture. This relationship does not last, because after returning to Beirut for the holidays, the hero learns that Jeannine is actually pregnant; such a romantic relationship with an Occidental, in this case Jeannine, cannot occur without causing the anger of the hero’s mother. Thus, as a representative of the Oriental system of values, she cannot accept that her son is attached to a Christian, living alone in Paris, working as saleswoman in a store, and whose past – the break with her unfaithful fiancé – is deemed iniquitous. In his quest for freedom, the hero is torn between his mother, who assumes the role of the opponent, and Jeannine as an adjuvant in this freedom quest or, more precisely, between the images he has constructed of these two antagonists: the terrorizing image of a mother who never ceases to warn him against his mistress and the desirable image of Jeannine, who is indispensable to the implementation of his project of freedom. Caught in this dilemma, the hero finally gives in to his mother and refuses, in a first step, to assume his responsibility in the pregnancy of Jeannine, succumbing to the negative image that his mother paints of her.

Why is the hero forced to bend before his mother, or rather the image of his mother? To answer this question, we reflect on the cognito-passionate transformations that the hero undergoes in the scene that puts him face to face with his mother, and during which he loses his qualities as a subject and turns into a meek tool, running blindly with the will of the mother. In this context, we analyze the terror which seizes the hero in the imaginary presence of the mother.

When Jeannine writes to the hero to announce that she is pregnant and that she founds a great hope on his understanding, he not only renounces his relationship with her, but also denies his own actions that have led to her pregnancy.

Dear Jeannine, I received your letter in which you declare to me that, according to the doctor, you expect a child. And really, I am surprised that you have not announced this good news to all your friends. These many friends with some of whom I know you have had not innocent relationships. With regard to our relationship, you have no doubts that it was innocent. That is why you find me totally indifferent to this news. And I do not give you any advice or make you recommendation. My sincere greetings. (233)^[1]

This attitude, which at first glance seems surprising, is, in fact, only the consequence of the involvement of the mother, who condemns this relationship and totally opposes a possible marriage between her son and Jeannine.

2 The image of the mother: Auto-destination or manipulation by the anti-destinator?

Admittedly, it is indeed an intervention, but it appears to be special in the sense that the dialogue which is supposed to juxtapose the mother as an interlocutor to the hero’s will disappears in favor of a dialogue where the inner voice embodies, in fact, the mother. By distributing the words between “me” (‘anâ) and an inner voice embedding the mother, the narrator wants to show us that what the mother says echoes in the soul of the hero. So, she strips him of his personality, dispels him, and imposes her personality on him.

Suddenly, he had turned to his mother. No it was not she who was talking, her mouth was closed. But yes it was she who had spoken, she had just gone quiet. Was it she who had spoken or him or another person they do not know? He did not know. He was sure that he had heard the words, but he did not know if it was with his ears, or if it had come from the depths of his soul. (233)

Narratively speaking, the inner voice abandons its role as recipient to ensure the representation of the anti-destinator that was assumed until now by the mother. To grasp the peculiarity of this auto-destination, because this is our concern, let us consider in more detail this inner dialogue which is supposed to set up two actants carrying two cognitive types: the persuasive vs. the interpretative. We see that these two kinds of do correspond to the above two actant positions of “sender and receiver, the former seeking to have his knowledge accepted by the receiver, the latter tending to decipher according to his own moral code” (Greimas 1988: 63).

3 Dialogue or monologue?

One could object that such a dialogical structure does not exist in the sequence of the novel being analyzed (230–234), and that it is monologue where we only hear the inner voice, since the (‘anâ) does not manifest itself by any verbalized do and, therefore, there is no persuasive or interpretative do, but rather a compliant do, where the inner voice dictates its orders to a receiver “ana” obeying these orders. However, a more careful sequence approach shows us that it is indeed a dialogue; although the (‘anâ) is hardly reflected in the text, we can notice its narrative presence through some clues. These include the interrogative do, presupposing, theoretically, the existence of an instance in which we address these issues even if a response is not expected. This manifests itself through the particles why and when. Furthermore, the use of the particles balâ, hâ (but yes, ah) and the exclamation marks can only confirm the existence of the two instances (interlocutor vs. interlocutory).

Let us take the following examples:

1. Why coupled with but yes:

But why do you hesitate? You’ll never dream of marrying her.

This assertion is followed by the balâ particle, which can be translated by ‘but yes.’

But yes, maybe, in a moment of weakness, you had thought that your wedding with her was not impossible. (231)

This shows us that the certainty expressed by the inner voice, which sees in the marriage of the hero with Jeannine an impossibility, is just shaken by another affirmation expressed by balâ affirming the contrary. Therefore, this assertion – opposition – can only arise from the interlocutory (‘anâ). Thus, we can ascertain the existence of a dialogue where the inner voice takes charge of the verbalized do of the (‘anâ).

1. When question coupled with exclaimed response marked by a question point:

The question:

But, when did it happen [thinking of the marriage with Jeannine]? (231)

is succeeded by the exclamatory reply:

Ah… the day Jeannine talked to you about the future! (231)

The exclamation point and the expressive interjection (Ah) mark the surprise and perplexity of the inner voice, and show us that it, as an interlocutor, was surprised by the response it received from the interlocutory (‘anâ). Indeed, the latter tells him that the idea of marriage crossed the mind of the hero when, with Jeannine, he approached their common future. After being overwhelmed by this response, the inner voice takes things in hand and tries, once again, to persuade him not to think about the future of this relationship, which can only be dishonorable (6–7).

Therefore we can say that the two instances (interlocutor vs. interlocutory) assumed respectively by the inner voice and the pronoun (‘anâ) are well present in our sequence and confirm the controversial structure.

This allows us, therefore, to speak of two cognitive do’s, namely, the dissuasive do used by the inner voice, and the interpretative do performed by the (‘anâ), which attempts to understand the message of the former and subsequently resist it, since the content of this message is going against the hero’s will.

4 Manipulation

To get the involvement of the (‘anâ’), the inner voice is called to exercise a dissuasive do aiming at diminishing the Western woman. This dissuasion is quite explicit through the following two passages:

What will people say? He returned from Paris giving his hand to a girl who was not a virgin, because she was engaged, a girl banned by her family, a girl that he found in the street? A Christian girl who was not of his religion… A girl… What a scandal! (232)

Thus, the inner voice tries to deter the (‘anâ) from accepting a union with Jeannine. To do this, it did not hesitate to deprecate her image, referring, once again, to the system of Eastern values. Jeannine, as a Western woman, is portrayed by the inner voice as:

1. a woman without honor, because she had lost her virginity;

2. a woman who was wandering, as she is without family;

3. a woman of scandal, as she works in a store;

4. a Christian woman who, in the case of marriage with the hero, would be the shame of the mother and the family.

She is pregnant, I agree. But who can prove she is pregnant by you, in person? You think that she now lives only on your memory? Could she really withstand frustration which cripples her lips? (232)

The inner voice also attempts to persuade the (‘anâ), and refuses to assume the hero’s responsibility for the pregnancy. On the grounds that the Western woman is what she is as she cannot be faithful, the inner voice seeks to persuade the (‘anâ) that he is not necessarily the father of the child, and so not obliged to marry Jeannine.

When considering once again the words of the mother, incarnating the inner voice, from a controversial perspective, we find that this same mother, in another passage, tries by all means to persuade her son to choose Hadba‘, or Ni’mat or Turayya as a wife, anyone provided that she is an Oriental woman.

Nahida is awaiting you, my son […], but, if you do not desire Nahida, there is Ni’mat, Turayya and Hadba‘ your cousin. They are many. Come back, my son, and I would choose you the most beautiful, the noblest and the chastest girl from here. (176)

On the other hand, we have stressed in our analysis of this sequence that the annulment of two values (honor and purity) describing Eastern women has no other objective than to disqualify the Western woman who is, by contrast, displayed as impure and dishonored, and that is expressly the case in the passage we are analyzing. We have seen, also, that this disqualification had the function of a warning that disrespect would lead to the exclusion of the hero from society, and consequently his rejection by the mother. Thus, the hero had better take advantage of not denying the proposal of his mother.

We are, therefore, in the case of a manipulation which aims to place the hero in the following dilemma:

1. get married to Jeannine, thus finding disgrace and being dismissed by his own society, starting with his mother; or

2. refuse to marry Jeannine and instead marry an Oriental woman, thus betraying his first love.

Facing this situation, the (‘anâ) is devoid of any freedom to choose. Why is it forced to bend to the inner voice? How could it give in? In other words, how is this deterrent exercised by the inner voice, which presupposes the freedom of the interlocutor, in this case the (‘anâ), transformed into a constrained do? This is what we see in the next section.

5 Manipulation and constraint

He would not know what he would have done if he had had the freedom to act. This is precisely what had hurt him, that he was deprived of this freedom to choose. (237)

It is clear from this passage that the (‘anâ) does not feel free, that he was forced to accept the point of view of the inner voice without any objections. Indeed, if free choice is defined as the will to choose or not to choose, the constraint state corresponds, in this case, to a “cannot-be-able-not to choose”⁷, which is translated, in our text, by the ease with which the (‘anâ) approves the inner voice when it charges Jeannine with infidelity.

The transformation of free choice in constraint can be specified using the following square:

Figure 1

Square of choice

This transformation, resulting in the obligation to accept the proposals of the inner voice, cannot be explained only by the /dominant/ vs. /dominated/ relationship between the inner voice and the (‘anâ). To explain this, let us take the example where the inner voice, in accusing Jeannine of unfaithfulness, tries to make it admit to the (‘anâ) this is true; let us see how it is once again resigned and accepts this allegation.

Do you think that now she lives only in your memories? Could she really resist the desire which cripple her lips? […] What else? You still hesitate? Not my son, my mother… (232)

In fact, the inner voice, in its actant role of a delegated anti-destinator exerts a persuasive do, seeking to make the (‘anâ) admit Jeannine’s infidelity as true, just because she is French, a discourse which, in the context and from the point of view of the hero, is fallacious. Let us make it clear that what we are concerned with is not the viewpoint of the inner voice (mother) who considers Jeannine as unfaithful, but how the (‘anâ) could take the lie for truth.

To grasp this abnormality, if we may designate it thus, let us refer back to the square of truth (see figure on next page).

We notice that the transformation of the untrue to the true consists in the transformation of the not-being into being. How has this happened?

As a response to this question, let’s move on to the most delicate phase of the interpretation of this chapter, attempting to make account of the cognito-passionate changes that the hero undergoes to become subjected. Therefore, if we have succeeded, to some extent, in highlighting the relationship (dominant / dominated) that ties the hero to his mother, we are led to infer from this sequence the most extreme form of this domination, namely the hero’s personality self-effacement in favor of his mother’s.

Figure 2

Square of truth

6 The terrorizing image of the mother

He knew that his mother had seen his hand shaking when he took out the letter from the envelope. Then, he was eager to read these few words to conceal his concern […]. He did not even gaze towards his mother, being certain that he couldn’t even if he had tried to do so. (230–231)

In fact, after his adventure with Jeannine, the hero realizes, suddenly, the adverse consequences that this relationship may have on his relationship with his mother and his autochthon community, especially because Jeannine is pregnant. This awareness takes a dramatic turn in the presence of the mother, to the extent that the hero now knows that he may be condemned and banned. Moreover, he is conscious that his image comes to be tarnished in the eyes of his mother, the image of a virtuous child, respectful of the traditional values that he tries to save by hiding his relationship with Jeannine, and then here she is betraying him to reveal a child sullied by dirt from the touch of illegitimate flesh.

The awareness of the enormity of the offense provokes in the hero a sense of extreme fear, a terror that pushes him, ultimately, to deny his share of responsibility in the pregnancy of Jeannine. To be convinced, he will have to accept the unfaithfulness of Jeannine as true.

[H]e felt trouble invading all his soul. This was not exactly a disorder, but rather an awful terror running madly into his body and his thought, as if a hand was chasing him. (231).

To analyze the cognitive and passionate impact of this terror on the hero, we need to begin first with the description of the scene. After he reads the letter from Jeannine in the presence of his mother, the hero, in a first step, cannot look at her face. But with a little courage, he manages to look into her face at times. Then, he notices that her face starts wrinkling to become the face of another aged person by whom he needed to feel protected.

He believed that a new creature was speaking. A mature and experienced creature; one he badly in need at this moment […] (230).

Paradoxically, the hero flees his mother to find refuge close to her. For, she is the only person who can ensure his safety; it is up to her alone to forgive and as if nothing happened. Terrorized, the hero is isolated from the outside world apart from the presence of his mother.

He felt isolated from everything, apart from everything. (231).

The presence of two separated beings soon disappears to make room for the phenomenon of the union of these two into a single being. Now, the hero sees two lips which speak to him. These two lips are, in fact, those of the mother incarnated by the inner voice. Isolated from the outside world, the hero sinks into an imaginary world.

It was a voice that arose from the depths of his soul, but that came from these lips [those of the mother], or it was those lips that pronounce this voice whose depths returned the echo. (231)

Then begins the long dialogue of which we made the analysis above, intended to compel the hero to detach himself from Jeannine and leave her to her own fate. At the end of this dialogue, the hero does not know if it was his mother who had talked to him, or himself talking.

At the end of this description, we find that it is, for the hero, a passage from the perception of the outside world reduced to the presence of the mother, to an imaginary representation of it. How had this transformation occurred?

Terror is defined by Le Petit Robert, among others, as an extreme fear which upsets and paralyzes the sight. The disorder of the hero and his uncertainty concerning the identity of the lips speaking to him allow us to notice the existence of two topics: a somatic (the mother) and the other which is a pure imaginary creation (two lips likened to those of his mother). The cognitive do of the hero is, as is shown in the text, full of doubt. Questioning his visual faculties, paralyzed by terror, the hero doubts both himself and what he sees. Immersed in a world called unreal, the hero wonders about the truth and authenticity of these lips that speak to him. Unable to recognize those lips, the hero can only believe in their presence, believing that they are what cause the blurring sensations that invade him and isolate him from the outside world (Fontanille, 1993: 36).

The doubt expressed by the verb (khala) make the hypothetical of an illusion emerge; this face that ages and these wrinkles that multiply may be suspected of being an invention of the abused vision. Once the minimum sensitivity threshold is crossed, this illusion takes us into a world of dream (Fontanille 1993: 40) that is inside the imagined scene, interpreted by the hero as “authentic truth” (Fontanille 1993: 41) for he sees two lips emanating from his soul, which talk, but which may also be interpreted as unreal and in split with the outside world (Fontanille 1993: 41–42).

A retrospective reading of this process leads us to note that illusion presupposes the doubt of the hero; he presupposes uncertainty and the indistinction of the world objects caused by terror. This nullifies the perceptive function of his vision to deviate it toward the imaginary perception of things. The process of this transformation is presented as such (Fontanille 1993: 42):

Figure 3

Transformation of terror

This is how illusion becomes the only reality that encompasses the hero, inside of which there only exists the mother who, by absorbing the (‘anâ), ends up by taking the decision of the break with Jeannine. Terrorized, isolated, enchanted by the presence of his mother, the hero is brought to leave the great hall to return to his room and write the letter to Jeannine in which he denies being the father of her child.

But, all he knew was that he had stood up a few moments after he entered his room, closed the door behind him, sat at his table, and when he took the pen to write, he had felt the face of his mother above his head. (233)

Thus, we may say that it is due to the pressure of the terror exerted by the mother that the hero is transformed from a free being who can choose to a subdued being who thinks he is obliged to accept the choice of his mother. This sort of duplication of the subject, from a perceiving subject to an imagining one, appears to us necessary to justify the trances of the subject appropriating and metaphorizing the world. To conclude, our analysis of the terror as a passion claims to fit into a semiotic discourse that is defined as “the description of the immanent structures and the construction of simulacra that are supposed to account for the conditions and the preconditions of the manifestations of meaning and in a certain way, of the ‘being’” (Greimas and Fontanille 1993: xx).