A Review of The One Versus The Many by Woloch
A Review of The One Versus The Many by Woloch
A Review of The One Versus The Many by Woloch
Deidre Lynch
Victorian Studies, Volume 47, Number 2, Winter 2005, pp. 281-282 (Review)
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BOOK REVIEWS
The One vs. the Many: Minor Characters and the Space of the Protagonist in the Novel,
by Alex Woloch; pp. ix + 391. Princeton and London: Princeton University Press, 2003,
$65.00, $21.95 paper, £41.95, £13.95 paper.
How is it that nobody has heard of Jane Austen’s Confusion and Conviviality? In Jasper
Fforde’s Lost in a Good Book (2002), the protagonist Thursday Next learns the reason. The
story of this novel’s extraordinary fate is recounted to Thursday by none other than
Marianne Dashwood, in a scene in which the twenty-first-century heroine, propelled
inside Sense and Sensibility (1811), meets her nineteenth-century counterpart. “There was
a revolution,” Marianne whispers: “They took over the entire book and decided to run it
on the principle of every character having an equal part, from the Duchess to the
cobbler!” The result was catastrophic. The novel was—in Fforde’s sci-fi, Lewis Carrollian
phrase—“boojumed.”
One way to describe Alex Woloch’s ambitious project in The One vs. the Many is as
follows: this book on minor characters and their relations with protagonists gives us the
means of applying to actually existing novels the cautionary tale about the limits of democ-
racy and the precariousness of narrative order that Marianne tells about the nonexistent
Confusion and Conviviality. Through readings of Pride and Prejudice (1813), Great Expectations
(1861), and Le Père Goriot (1834), Woloch offers a series of brilliant insights into the “distrib-
uted field of attention” (17) that orders our experience of narrative. After reading him one
becomes conscious as never before of the asymmetries that novels establish, and also scruti-
nize, while they carry on their characterizing, and of the manner in which novels offset their
production of singular protagonists with their production of those environing figures who
by their very nature are (like the children in Jude the Obscure [1894–95]) “too menny.” Woloch
grants novel readers a new language to describe our strange affective attachments to that
latter group, narratives’ “workers” and “eccentrics” (25), who stand out from the crowd only
to be absorbed back into it and yet manage even so to “enfold the untold tale into the
telling” (42). In Woloch’s account, as that last evocative quotation suggests, novels are struc-
tured by their awareness that they do not grant all characters, cobblers as well as duchesses,
equal shares of roundness or of attention. Ever conscious that narrative focus could well be
placed elsewhere and shifted from their centers to their subordinated margins, novels
inscribe “the very absence of voice that the distributional system produces” (42).
Woloch begins with the Iliad and ends, symmetrically, with Oedipus Rex. But
nineteenth-century fiction is at the heart of his book, because the realist novelist’s project
of engaging both psychological inwardness and social diversity is facilitated by asymmetric
structures of characterization that lock together both round protagonists and flat minor
characters. For Woloch those asymmetric norms represent, as well, a formal structure
capable of comprehending the dynamics of alienated labor within a capitalist order’s
class structure. His “Labor Theory of Character” proposes that the “functions” to which
minor characters, the novel’s proletariat, are consigned inevitably take on new social
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VICTORIAN STUDIES