Speech and Thought Presentation in French: Concepts and Strategies (Pragmatics & Beyond New)

Speech and Thought Presentation in French

Pragmatics & Beyond New Series Editor Andreas H. Jucker University of Zurich, English Department Plattenstrasse 47, CH-8032 Zurich, Switzerland e-mail: [email protected]

Associate Editors Jacob L. Mey University of Southern Denmark

Herman Parret Belgian National Science Foundation, Universities of Louvain and Antwerp

Jef Verschueren Belgian National Science Foundation, University of Antwerp

Editorial Board Shoshana Blum-Kulka Hebrew University of Jerusalem

Catherine Kerbrat-Orecchioni University of Lyon 2

Jean Caron Université de Poitiers

Claudia de Lemos University of Campinas, Brazil

Robyn Carston University College London

Marina Sbisà University of Trieste

Bruce Fraser Boston University

Emanuel Schegloff University of California at Los Angeles

Thorstein Fretheim University of Trondheim

Deborah Schiffrin Georgetown University

John Heritage University of California at Los Angeles

Paul O. Takahara

Susan Herring University of Texas at Arlington Masako K. Hiraga St.Paul’s (Rikkyo) University David Holdcroft University of Leeds

Sandra Thompson University of California at Santa Barbara Teun A. Van Dijk Pompeu Fabra, Barcelona Richard J. Watts University of Berne

Sachiko Ide Japan Women’s University

Volume 133 Speech and Thought Presentation in French: Concepts and strategies by Sophie Marnette

Speech and Thought Presentation in French Concepts and strategies

Sophie Marnette University of Oxford

John Benjamins Publishing Company Amsterdam
/
Philadelphia

8

TM

The paper used in this publication meets the minimum requirements of American National Standard for Information Sciences – Permanence of Paper for Printed Library Materials, ansi z39.48-1984.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Sophie Marnette Speech and Thought Presentation in French : Concepts and strategies / Sophie Marnette. p. cm. (Pragmatics & Beyond, New Series, issn 0922-842X ; v. 133) Includes bibliographical references and index. 1. French language--Rhetoric. 2. French language--Discourse analysis. I. Title. II. Pragmatics & beyond ; new ser. 133. PC2410.M37 2005 08’.044--dc28 isbn 90 272 5376 5 (Eur.) / 1 58811 622 0 (US) (Hb; alk. paper)

2004058603

© 2005 – John Benjamins B.V. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form, by print, photoprint, microfilm, or any other means, without written permission from the publisher. John Benjamins Publishing Co. · P.O. Box 36224 · 1020 me Amsterdam · The Netherlands John Benjamins North America · P.O. Box 27519 · Philadelphia pa 19118-0519 · usa

To Suzanne Fleischman with love and respect

Table of contents

Foreword Introduction 1 Presentation and objectives 1 2 Working definitions 3 2.1 Literature versus non literature 3 2.2 Fiction versus non fiction 5 2.3 Discourse and text 6 2.4 Narrative versus non narrative 10 3 Translatio studii 13

xi 1

Part I. Concepts Introduction 17 Chapter 1 Enunciation theory and S&TP 1 The théorie de l’énonciation: An overview 19 2 Ducrot’s theory: A split subject 21 3 Applying Ducrot’s theory to the study of S&TP 23 4 Enunciation theory and S&TP in literary fiction 28 5 Voice, point of view and the notion of enunciator 31 6 Conclusion 33 Chapter 2 What is ‘reported discourse’? 1 Introduction 39 2 How should we understand the term ‘reported’? 39 2.1 Anteriority and objectivity 39 2.2 Towards a continuum from reproduction to assertion 43 2.3 Reported discourse and argumentative sequences 47 2.4 Relating a discourse to another 49

19

39

 Table of contents

3

4

5

What is covered under the generic term ‘discourse’? 49 3.1 Introduction 49 3.2 Verbal and non verbal 50 3.3 From external speech to internal attitudes: Another continuum 51 3.4 Other types of reported discourse 61 Does ‘reported discourse’ only mean ‘discourse of the other(s)’? 4.1 Introduction 64 4.2 Performative and attitudinal expressions 65 4.3 Modality and theatricalisation 76 Conclusion 78

Chapter 3 To the limits of reportability 1 Introduction 85 2 Narrated Discourse 85 2.1 Names and definitions 87 2.2 Syntactic versus semantic definition 91 2.3 How to find Narrated Discourses 93 2.4 Conclusion 109 3 ‘Press Conditional’, Selon X, etc. 110 3.1 The ‘Press conditional’ 111 3.2 Selon X, d’après X, pour X 113 3.3 Other modalisation markers 120 4 Conclusion 122

Part II. Strategies Chapter 1 Contemporary spoken French 1 Introduction 133 2 A macroanalysis of the corpus 141 2.1 Direct Discourse 141 2.2 Free Indirect Discourse 145 2.3 Indirect Discourse 151 2.4 Neutral Discourse 155 2.5 Writing presentation 158 2.6 Conclusion 160 3 A microanalysis of the corpus 162

64

85

133

Table of contents

3.1 3.2 3.3 3.4 3.5 3.6 3.7 3.8 3.9

Balboa 163 Selin 164 Ghioldi 165 Giovannoni 166 Mousset 167 Gautier E (3000 words, recorded in 1986) 168 Nevchehirlian 169 Tscharner 170 Conclusion 172

Chapter 2 Medieval literature 1 Introduction 179 2 Elaboration of forms 179 3 Elaboration of functions 189 3.1 Speech strategies and the staging of orality in ‘chansons de geste’ 189 3.2 Speech and the rhetoric of truth in ‘chansons de geste’, chronicles and prose romances 197 3.3 Thought presentation and the expression of point of view in romances’ 205 4 Conclusion 215 Chapter 3 Ninetieth and twentieth-century literature 1 Introduction 225 2 Free Indirect Discourse in ninetieth-century literature 226 3 Freeing reported discourse in twentieth-century literature 240 Chapter 4 Contemporary written press 1 Introduction 283 2 Gossip magazines 288 3 Women’s magazines 291 4 News magazines 296 5 Newspapers 300 6 Reported discourse and style 308 7 Conclusion 311

179

225

283





Table of contents

Conclusion

321

References

327

Appendix 1. Corpus of contemporary spoken French

349

Appendix 2. Corpus of medieval French literature

353

Appendix 3. Corpus of contemporary French literature

355

Appendix 4. Corpus of contemporary written French press

357

Author index

359

Subject index

365

Foreword

This book studies speech and thought presentation (S&TP), i.e. how people quote themselves or the others. But it also presents speech and thought : my own views about the topic and these of many other scholars in linguistics, literature, narratology, philosophy, sociology, etc. This creates a paradox. On the one hand when I report what other colleagues said, I am always recontextualising their words, filtering them through my own perspective and giving them a purpose that might not have originally existed. On the other hand, when I purport to present personal ideas on the topic, these are intrinsically shaped, influenced by my readings and my discussions with colleagues. So when quoting the others I am expressing myself and when speaking for myself I am actually also echoing the others. . . In effect my own discourse is thus implicitly or explicitly reflecting a multiplicity of voices, a phenomenon that Bakhin famously identified as polyphony. In this foreword, I would like to acknowledge some of these voices by sketching the genesis of this book and thanking the people who helped me writing it. The next chapter (Introduction) will then detail my objectives, give an outline and suggest working definitions for some basic concepts that will be recurrent throughout the book. I started thinking about the present book with two firm hypotheses inspired by the works of Suzanne Fleischman, Bernard Cerquiglini and Hans Robert Jauss. First I wanted to show that S&TP forms and strategies were influenced by the oral nature of medieval French literature in the same way that Fleischman (1990) highlighted similarities between the peculiar mix of tenses in Old French texts and in the spoken language. Second, based on Jauss’ (1970, 1982) theory of medieval genres, I believed that S&TP forms and strategies were significant factors in determining specific literary genres in medieval French, a fact that Cerquiglini (1981) emphasised in his comparative study of reported discourse in verse and prose romances. In the course of my investigations, I rapidly felt compelled to increase my corpus to contemporary literature and the written press as I noticed that “non canonical” S&TP categories often thought as typical of medieval and oral French were spreading in these speech genres (possibly due to the influence of the spoken language). In addition, it

 Foreword

became obvious to me that S&TP strategies were instrumental in determining these genres (and their sub-genres) too.1 This explains the composite structure of the second part of the book: spoken language – medieval literature – modern and contemporary literature – written press. Other than combining various types of corpora, the present book also integrates a mix of theoretical perspectives, based on my personal experience as a specialist in medieval literature and in modern linguistics and as a French speaking scholar studying the French language but working in the United States (UC Berkeley, UCLA and Harvard) and the United Kingdom (St Andrews, Cambridge and Oxford). To literary-based approaches in narratology (e.g. Cohn, Genette, Rimmon Kenan) and stylistic (e.g. Bakhtin, Fludernik, Jauss, Leech and Short, Maingueneau), I added more linguistic-grounded theories in discourse analysis and pragmatics (e.g. Authier-Revuz, Cerquiglini, Ducrot, Chafe, Fleichman, Vincent, Rosier, Tannen) and I tried to build bridges between theories developed by specialists in French and specialists in English (see more on this in the introduction). As a matter of fact, I did not choose to write this book in the English language because I wanted to give up Molière for Shakespeare but rather because I felt a strong need for cross-pollinisation between fields that are too often kept apart. My hope is that my book will give Anglo-Saxon scholars the desire to learn more about frameworks elaborated in the French-speaking area while showing their counterparts that the research done on other languages (and in other languages!) are also utterly relevant to the study of French. In this, I am very grateful to John Benjamins for editing my book since, in my view, this publisher represents the very essence of what a publishing house should be, i.e. a truly international enterprise that engages the global scholarly community.2 I discussed the first ideas for this book with Suzanne Fleischman, who had been my Ph.D. adviser at the University of California (Berkeley) and had become by then an invaluable mentor and a very dear friend. Sadly Suzanne untimely death meant that she was not able to impart me with her always witty comments and clever criticisms.3 I wrote this book inspired not only by her work but also by her life and I can only hope that it will rise up to her exacting standards in reflecting some of her truly wonderful qualities: her thirst for innovation and original research, her gift for connecting and integrating separate frameworks into harmonious and compelling wholes, her constant search for rigor, exhaustiveness and intellectual honesty,. . . The first seeds of this research were sowed when I was a research fellow at Gonville and Caius College (Cambridge) and lecturing for the University of Cambridge (1997–2001). The book then came to completion while I was the

Foreword 

Zaharoff Fellow in French linguistics at the University of Oxford and visiting Scholar at Harvard University (2001–2003). Obviously there could not have be better places for my ideas to grow and mature given the atmosphere of intellectual curiosity and scholarly excellence fostered by these four institutions. All along this journey, I received constant personal support from my friends and colleagues around the world, whom I would like to thank warmly: Wendy Bennett (University of Cambridge), Matilda Tomaryn Bruckner (Boston College), Bernard Cerquiglini (University of Paris VII), Joe Duggan (University of California, Berkeley), Alison Finch (Churchill College, Cambridge), Virginie Greene (Harvard University), Miranda Griffin (formerly University of Oxford), Mari Jones (University of Cambridge), Sarah Kay (University of Cambridge), Tony Lodge (University of Saint Andrews), Juan Manuel López-Muñoz (University of Cadiz), Michèle Perret (Emeritus, University of Paris X), Eve Sweetser (University of California, Berkeley), Laurence Rosier (Free University of Brussels). I am especially thankful to Virginie Greene for inviting me to Harvard where I spent two wonderfully fruitful years as a visiting scholar and I am grateful to JC Smith and Ian Watson, my Oxford colleagues, for allowing me to share my time between the UK and the USA. I am also greatly indebted to Wendy Bennett for being the first reader of my book and giving me precious advice on its style and content. My corpora of spoken and medieval French were gathered thanks to the invaluable help of Claire BlancheBenveniste and the Groupe Aixois de Recherche en Syntaxe (GARS, University of Aix-en-Provence), Pierre Kunstmann and the Laboratoire de français ancien (University of Ottawa) and Christiane Marchello-Nizia and her team (“Base de français médiéval”, ENS Saint-Cloud). In 1998, with Laurence Rosier and Juan Manuel López Muñoz, two colleagues who were to become my close friends, I founded Ci-Dit, an international and interdisciplinary research group on reported discourse. The group currently counts more than two hundred members from around twenty different countries and its website (www.ci-dit.org) offers an exhaustive and up-todate bibliography on S&TP. As Ci-Dit’s webmaster, the co-organiser of major conferences and seminars, and the co-editor of three volumes of proceedings, I had the thrilling opportunity to learn a lot about the past and present research on S&TP and it was incredibly useful in writing this book.4 I deeply appreciate the kind help of all the colleagues (most of them from Ci-Dit) who sent me articles or other relevant information: Ruth Amossy, Hanne Leth Andersen, Denis Apotheloz, Antoine Auchlin, Jacqueline Authier-Revuz, Mike Baynham, Frank Brandsma, Janice Carruthers, Agnès Celle, Patrick Dendale, Malin Eurenius, Kjersti Fløttum, Danièle Forget, Monica Fludernik, Zlatka Guentcheva, Anna

 Foreword

Jaubert, Catherine Kerbrat-Orecchioni, Georges Kleiber, Hans Kronning, Annie Kuyumcuyan, Robert Levine, Dominique Maingueneau, France Martineau, Elena Meteva, Sophie Moirand, Vanessa Moulay, Henning Nølke, Coco Norén, Evelyne Opperman, Laurent Perrin, Thierry Ponchon, Liana Pop, Alain Rabatel, Graciela Reyes, Eddy Roulet, Geneviève Salvan, Carol Sanders, Magali Séjido, Mick Short, Päivi Sihvonen-Hautecoeur, Claire Stoltz, Françoise SulletNylander, Danièle Torck, Ulla Tuomarla, Diane Vincent, Linda Waugh, Marc Wilmet, Galia Yanoshevsky. Last but not least, I want to deeply thank my loved ones, those who are still with me and those who have left this world but not my heart, my husband Ted, our families and our little son Garry, who often slept on my laps as I put the finishing touches to this book.

Notes . Obviously this does not mean that S&TP strategies are the only factor defining these genres nor does it preclude for some strategies to be shared by several genres. . This is a welcome departure from other so-called major publishers that nowadays tend to limit themselves to editing textbooks with a predictable readership. . Suzanne died at 51 from a blood disorder called myelodysplastic syndrome (MDS). Her long battle with the disease let her to investigate the language of illness in the medical community and the discourse strategies adopted by the doctors and their patients. . See López-Muñoz, Marnette & Rosier 2002, 2003, 2004.

Introduction

.

Presentation and objectives

Imagine a text that does not quote or refer to anybody’s speech or thoughts. . . A few examples come to mind: technical texts such as scientific papers, legal documents, instruction manuals and textbooks may not contain any. But if we try to imagine a narrative – oral or written – or an argumentative discourse (press article, political discussion, etc.) without any speech or thought presentation (S&TP), it is difficult to think of an example. Indeed the way we perceive a story, the reasons we do (or do not) empathise with the narrator or the characters, the bases on which we do (or do not) find a story realistic or entertaining are largely dependent on the way speech and thoughts are presented in the narrative, be it a novel, the story of our last holiday misadventures or even a good joke. And the same is true for our ability to present our arguments in a discussion or for our willingness to give credit to a journalist’s reporting. All these different types of discourse have their own special aims and they all tap accordingly into the rich continuum of various S&TP categories available. This means that the study of S&TP is not just another set of data available to linguists and literary scholars: it is an essential part of our in-depth knowledge of language and literature. The presence or absence of S&TP, the categories of S&TP used and their respective frequencies are thus essential factors in defining a particular type of discourse. This book aims at further understanding the concept of reported discourse and at bringing to light the strategies of S&TP that determine the very essence of specific speech genres. I plan to analyse and describe S&TP in French from a broad theoretical perspective, building bridges between linguistic, stylistic and narratological frameworks that have until now been developed separately by French-speaking scholars on the one hand, and by English-speaking scholars on the other hand. French théories de l’énonciation, especially the concept of split subject developed by O. Ducrot (1984) highlight the fact that discourse is by essence composed of a multiplicity of voices and points of view. This insistence on the polyphonic nature of language emphasises the intricate relationships existing



Introduction

between subjects and discourses – their own (past, present, future, imagined) and those of the others – and it allows for an uniquely complex and illuminating approach towards S&TP in terms of strategies, both rhetorical (argumentative discourse) and narratological (narrative discourse).1 Anglo-Saxon scholars have concentrated on studying S&TP in context (mostly in corpora of written fiction, but also in written non-fiction and even spoken language). They have proposed invaluable categorisations of S&TP (suggesting that these categories should be seen as continuous rather than discrete, and sometimes distinguishing between reported speech, thought and writing) and they have considered S&TP in relation to notions such as faithfulness, involvement and speaker/narrator’s control. The originality of the present book lies in the strong belief that a meaningful study of S&TP is possible only if one takes into account both French and Anglo-Saxon frameworks. Indeed, I will show that far from contradicting one another, these approaches enormously benefit from being combined into a harmonious whole, creating a new and exciting paradigm for our conception of S&TP strategies. The book will be divided into two parts: ‘Concepts’ and ‘Strategies’. In the first part, I will outline the implications of the French théorie de l’énonciation for the study of S&TP and I will undertake an in-depth analysis of the concept of ‘reported discourse’. I will discuss the multiple – and often unconscious – presuppositions on which most scholars base their definitions of this concept and offer my own views on what the study of speech and thought presentation could and should entail. This theoretical discussion will form the basis for all my subsequent analyses. In the second part, I will examine S&TP strategies in a large range of discourse types: written and spoken French, medieval and modern literatures, fiction and non fiction, narrative and non narrative discourses. Basing my analysis on actual corpora and going beyond the canonical categories of S&TP, I will show that the study of S&TP strategies is essential to our understanding of phenomena as diverse as the evolution and categorisation of literary genres, the production and staging of ‘orality’ in literature, the various conceptualisations of the notion of ‘Truth’ in fiction and non fiction, the expression of points of view in narrative and the construction of the Self versus the representation of the ‘Other’ in discourse. The decision to study Medieval French (11th to 15th centuries) alongside Modern French does not only pertain to my own expertise as a medievalist but owes to the fact that this fascinating period truly saw the ‘making’ of a vernacular literature in France (as opposed to the existing Latin literature). In the course of these five centuries, we can observe the development of several literary genres (epics, verse and prose romances, chronicles) that each kept

Introduction

a conspicuous and yet elusive link to their origin as an oral literature. Actually, medieval literary texts are doubly connected to Modern French. First, due to the ‘incontrovertible orality of medieval culture’ (Fleischman 1990: 9), they share many similarities with modern oral narratives not only in terms of tense usage – as Fleischman (1990) so successfully argued – but also, as I will show, in terms of S&TP. Second, far from being ‘primitive’ or ‘simplistic’, medieval texts already exhibit subtle S&TP strategies that allow us to classify them into specific genres and that still form the bases of our modern differentiation into particular discourse types (both literary and non literary). In short, this analysis aims at demonstrating the importance of S&TP in French linguistics today and its relevance to the study of both language and literature. As such, it is not only geared towards linguists but also towards scholars and advanced students interested in applying linguistics to the study of literature. In the remaining part of this introduction, I will present a few basic definitions that will be used throughout this book.

. Working definitions Several concepts used in the above introduction need further definition before I can continue with the rest of my study. These can be presented in terms of oppositions: ‘literature versus non literature’, ‘fiction versus non fiction’, ‘text versus discourse’ and ‘narrative versus non narrative’. Obviously, these concepts could each constitute the topic of a single book. While the following definitions will neither be perfect nor exhaustive, they have the merit, in my eyes, of being practical and coherent within the context of the present book. Other important concepts such as ‘author versus narrator’ and ‘oral versus written’ will be developed and refined later during the course of this study. . Literature versus non literature I find the following definition by Bright (1982: 171) particularly enlightening: I take the term ‘literature’ or ‘literacy’ here to refer, roughly to the body of discourses or texts which, within any society, are considered worthy of dissemination, transmission, and preservation in essentially constant form. We typically associate such lot with the written medium; however, works originally composed in writing can also be performed in the oral medium. In our society, this occurs, for example, when parents read aloud to children, or when





Introduction

poets give public ‘readings’. Furthermore, the established term ‘oral literature’ reminds us that literature may also be composed orally, and regularly performed in that same medium. Some examples are a) the oral composition and performance of epics such as the Iliad or the Odyssey in ancient Greece, or a whole lot of poetic and learned works from ancient India; b) the whole body of myths and legends existing in preliterate societies such as those of the American Indians; and c) the large number of jokes, riddles, song texts, etc. which exist in the oral tradition of literate societies such as our own. The term ‘folklore’ is, of course, often used for much of this material. And it is clear that texts which were originally oral may be transcribed and transmitted in the written medium; examples would include printed versions of the Odyssey as well as much of the content of the Journal of American Folklore. Finally, if I read a printed folktale aloud to a child or a friend, the text passes back into the oral medium. It must be recognised, then, that the difference between speech and writing is not necessarily basic to a definition of literature.

Bright’s allusion to oral literature is of course of particular interest to me, in relation to the medieval texts of my corpus. One should not forget however that these medieval texts were indeed written: I will thus be dealing with written literature albeit keeping in mind the fact that these texts might at one point in the past have been performed (sung, recited) or simply read aloud. Notice that the above definition does not mention the concept of fiction, which means that it encompasses all the non-fictional genres such as press articles, historiography, (auto)biography, academic works, etc. What this definition does neatly exclude however is spoken conversation, spontaneous oral narratives and any document that has fulfilled a unique purpose (before possibly being archived, e.g. contract, personal letter, drafts, etc.). Bright’s definition is original in the sense that it does not rely on the subjective notion of ‘aesthetic value’, which is usually linked to literature. As a consequence, it might be judged too broad by some scholars who might not be inclined to consider press articles or essays in the category of literature. Genette’s (1993 [1991]: 1–29) reflection on the concept of ‘literariness’ (i.e. the aesthetic aspect of literary practice) sheds an interesting light on this problem. He distinguishes between texts that are inherently literary and those that are conditionally literary. In his view, fictional texts and (lyric) poetry are literary ipse facto, the first because of their subject and the latter because of their form.2 Other non fictional prose texts (autobiography, history, oratory, essay, etc.) may be literary, depending on their aesthetic quality.3 By using this subjective (or rather intersubjective) criterion, Genette allows for the existence of

Introduction

what he calls an ‘open’, ‘conditionalist’ poetics alongside an ‘essentialist’ poetics (that of fiction and poetry): Literariness, being a plural phenomenon, requires a pluralist theory that takes into account the various means at the disposal of language for escaping and outliving its practical function and for producing texts capable of being received and appreciated as aesthetic objects. Genette (1993 [1991]: 20–1)

Genette also reminds us that our conception of literature constantly evolves and that no category is completely impermeable (e.g. prose poetry, press article using fictional devices, etc.). In the present book, I will use both Bright and Genette’s perspectives because I think that they are complementary rather than exclusive. They both allow us to consider as literary a series of texts that do not conform to the more traditional ‘essentialist’ view of literature. One difference is that Bright defines as literary a range of texts which Genette only deems as ‘conditionally’ literary. A second difference is that Bright insists on the process of ‘dissemination, transmission, and preservation’ which Genette does not mention but which could usefully be added to his definition.4 . Fiction versus non fiction Since I could not pretend to solve the complexities of this opposition on my own, I will base my definition on the works of Adams (1985, commented by Fleischman (1990)) and Genette (1993 [1991]). For Adams (1985: 12), a work of fiction is a text where the writer attributes what he writes to someone else: (. . .) The writer’s act of attributing the text he writes to someone else, results in the formation of an embedded communicative context with a fictional speaker and hearer. The pragmatic structure of fiction is the relationship among all the language users of the text: particularly, between the writer and the fictional speaker and hearer, on one hand, and the reader and the fictional speaker and hearer, on the other.

He illustrates this relationship with in the following way: WRITER

[Speaker

(text)

Hearer]

READER

Everything enclosed within square brackets belongs to the embedded communicative context, which is fictional. Only the writer and the reader belong to the real communicative context, such as it is in situations of deferred written





Introduction

communication. In a narrative, the speaker is the narrator and the hearer is the narratee. Moreover, as Fleischman (1990: 107) explains: In nonfictional narration, WRITER=Speaker and READER=Hearer within a single communicative context in which all participants are historical agents (who need not, however, be present together). In fictional narration, according to this model, there is a second-level fictional communicative context embedded into the real one; all speech acts carried out in the text refer to the embedded communicative context, that is, to the Speaker and Hearer, both of whom are fictional personae.

Although he first bases his definition of fiction on a ‘speech act’ approach,5 Genette (1993 [1991]: 71–73) follows the same lines as Adams and Fleischman when he examines the relationship existing between the author (i.e. Adams’ writer) and the narrator in fictional narratives as opposed to factual narratives. In the first texts, he sees the author (A) as always different from the narrator (N): A
= N, while in the latter it is always the contrary: A = N.6 I will develop the notion of ‘embedded communicative context’ later on in this book but it is important to point out that the present definition does not exclude oral literature where the performer takes on a different persona from his own self while assigning a specific role qua audience to the public listening to him/her. Note that this ‘fictional structure’ is also in place when one tells a fairy tale to a child but not when one writes a press article or an academic paper.7 It is thus clear that literature is not always fictional but can one say, as Genette does (1993 [1991]: 10), that verbal fiction is always literary? Although it is possible to imagine situations where it is not the case (i.e. a fairy tale invented as it is told and never repeated nor written down), it is rather rare probably because of the efforts involved in the creation of an entire embedded communicative context. . Discourse and text These two terms are used very widely and in many different ways, which makes them very difficult to define. To make things more complex, what is meant by discours in French linguistics is not entirely the same as what is meant by discourse in Anglo-Saxon linguistics. In the latter, the commonly accepted interpretation of the term discourse refers to elements-that-are-larger-thanthe-sentence (in either speech or writing). While this meaning is also valid in French linguistics, the definition of discours is broader and more similar to

Introduction

that proposed by the British scholars Leech and Short (1981: 209), which I will adopt in this book:8 Discourse is linguistic communication seen as a transaction between speaker and hearer, as an interpersonal activity whose form is determined by its social purpose.

In other words, like Leech and Short, French linguists view discourse as a generic term to mean ‘language put into context’ or to use Benveniste’s words, ‘language put into action’ (1971: 223).9 While language as an abstract system (i.e. Saussure’s langue) constitutes only the possibility of subjectivity (since it contains the linguistic forms appropriate to its expression), discourse, on the other hand, gives rise not only to subjectivity but also to intersubjectivity as it is essentially an interaction between a speaker and a hearer (even if the latter is only a potential hearer). Bakhtin also defines discourse as a verbal interaction (1983 [1929]: 85–98, 1986 [1979]: 94–5). For him, like Roulet (1985: 9–69) and Ducrot (1989: 149–164), even in its most monological aspects, discourse always is the product of an interaction – or even, as Roulet puts it, a ‘negotiation’ – between interlocutors. As such, discourse is not only studied from a purely linguistic point of view but also from a socio-historical, political and/or economic perspective. And of course, it encompasses both written and oral media. Based on this generic view of discourse, French linguists also speak of genres de discours, which Adam (1999: 84) glosses as text families and which the Anglo-Saxon linguists traditionally call ‘speech genres’. As Bakhtin (1984 [1979]: 285) notes, whenever we speak, we do adhere to the rules of a certain speech genre and whenever we hear people speaking, we know instinctively from the beginning what speech genre they are conforming to so that we envisage their specific utterances as being a part of a bigger whole with a definite aim.10 Speech genres are therefore both parts and products of certain socio-cultural environments, they are learned (unconsciously for some and consciously for others) and they constantly evolve as these environments evolve. They can be distinguished on the basis of different criteria: social activity (manufacturing, services, education, law, . . . ), institutional place (hospital, school, family, tribunal, . . .), the status of the interlocutors (children, adult, man, woman, boss, employee, . . .), their ideological positions (religious, political and philosophical opinions), etc. They also have definite aims (e.g. convincing and seducing in the case of advertising) and specific roles for the interlocutors (e.g. salesperson and customer in the case of a commercial transaction) with specific knowledge, rights and duties. Some take place in determined locations (the church in the case of a religious service) or/and at certain





Introduction

moments (the evening in the case of TV evening news), for a precise duration and with a certain continuity (the reading of a novel can take place in several sessions but not the telling of a joke). Finally speech genres are also determined by their ‘material media’ (newspaper, book, poster, computer, TV, radio, immediate speech, etc.). All these criteria and many more both influence and are influenced by the linguistic organisation of the texts conforming to a certain speech genre (to a greater or lesser degree). One of my hypotheses in the present book is that S&TP strategies play an essential role in that textual organisation and thus are crucial in order to 1) identify which speech genre a text belongs to; and 2) affect the shape and the evolution of speech genres in general.11 When used in a specific way, the French term discours is sometimes an abbreviation for speech genre (e.g. le discours publicitaire ‘advertising discourse’) since it refers to the way language is used in a given social practice. It can also be used with a more ideological meaning (e.g. le discours de la gauche ‘left-wing discourse’). In that case, it refers both to a specific ideological content and to the way this content (this ‘reality’) is constructed by language.12 In a more restricted and formal sense, discourse is also used by French linguists in an indefinite way (un discours ‘a discourse’) as a synonym for ‘a text’ and defined as a semantic whole (see Hasan and Halliday’s definition infra), a chain of utterances (Ducrot 1984: 40; Roulet et al. 1985; Adam 1999: 31) which are linked to each others in specific ways (both semantically and syntactically), are the product of an interaction between a specific speaker and targeted addressee(s) within a definite context, and are oriented in a particular direction (both in terms of temporal linearity and in terms of the interlocutors’ purposes).13 For Adam (1990, 1999) and Maingueneau (1991), discourse and text are in fact two sides of the same coin. In short, a text can be seen as the ‘purely linguistic’ side of a discourse, the specific result of a physical and mental act of production (in French: énonciation) and thus the concrete object that is studied in textual linguistics.14 A discourse, on the other hand, is a text envisaged within its situational (and thus socio-historical) context, in connection with the moment of its production and in relation to specific speech genres.15 Although this distinction might seem more theoretical than practical, it is relevant to the present book because I will move from the particular, the study of S&TP in specific texts, to the general, the relevance of S&TP strategies for the broader definition of speech genres (genres de discours). Let’s now turn our attention to the notion of ‘text’ as defined by Halliday and Hasan (1976: 1):

Introduction

The word TEXT is used in linguistics to refer to any passage, spoken or written, of whatever length, that [forms] a unified whole. We know, as a general rule, whether any specimen of our own language constitutes a TEXT or not. This does not mean however that there can never be any uncertainty. The distinction between a TEXT and a collection of unrelated sentences is in the last resort a matter of degree and there may always be instances about which we are uncertain (. . .).

For Halliday and Hasan (1976: 26), a text is not a unit of form but a unit of meaning; it combines two types of semantic configurations, those of cohesion and those of register. The concept of cohesion refers to relations of meaning that exist within the text and that occur whenever an element in the discourse is dependent on another for its interpretation (i.e. in the cases of reference, substitution, ellipsis, conjunction and lexical cohesion). The concept of register is linked to a specific class of contexts of situations which are determined – amongst others – by the event in which the text is functioning, the purposive activity of the speaker, the function of the text in the event, the language channel (spoken, written), the rhetorical mode (narrative, didactic, persuasive, etc.), the kind of interaction, the set of relevant social relations, permanent and temporary, among the participants involved, etc. So for them, The concept of COHESION can therefore be usefully supplemented by that of REGISTER, since the two together effectively define a TEXT. A text is a passage of discourse which is coherent in these two regards; it is coherent with respect to the context of situation, and therefore consistent in register; and it is consistent with respect to itself, and therefore cohesive. Neither of these two conditions is sufficient without the other, nor does one by necessity entail the other. (Halliday & Hasan 1976: 23)

Clearly, the notion of ‘register’ can very much be equated to that of ‘speech genre’ defined supra. Halliday and Hasan’s definition of text might be usefully complemented by the work of Adam (1990, 1999) and in particular by his remark (1990: 46) that in order to be interpreted as a text, a string of utterances must not only appear as a sequence of linked units but also as a sequence progressing towards an end (i.e. both an aim and an ending). When used with this meaning, as well as with Hasan and Halliday’s meaning, a conversation IS a text: a semantic unit co-constructed and geared towards a specific aim (even if it is only that of entertainment), with a discernible beginning and end (opening and closing turns). The corpus studied in the present book is thus composed of both oral and written texts (conversations, press articles, medieval romances, modern novels, etc.).16





Introduction

. Narrative versus non narrative Labov (1972: 359–60) defines ‘narrative’ as “one method of recapitulating past experience by matching a verbal sequence of clauses to the sequence of events which (it is inferred) actually occurred.” For him, a minimal narrative is “a sequence of two clauses which are temporally ordered: that is, a change in their order will result in a change in the temporal sequence of the original semantic interpretation” (1972: 360–1). He calls these temporally ordered clauses ‘narrative clauses’ and shows that if one reverses the order of the two narrative clauses in the sequence “I punched this boy / and he punched me”, one also alters the semantic interpretation of the resulting sequence: “This boy punched me / and I punched him”. Of course, a narrative can also contain other clauses which have no fixed relationship to temporal sequences (free clauses) or which depend on the temporal reference point of a main narrative clause (e.g. subordinate clauses) but these are seen as optional and usually backgrounded.17 Although this definition helps us to grasp the essential difference between what is narrative and what is not, it does not necessarily tell us what is a narrative text or in short what is ‘a narrative’, if – that is – such an entity actually exists in a ‘pure state’. Going back to Adam’s notion of text discussed in the previous section, it might be useful to add that this scholar (1990: 84–98) also sees a text as a combination of different types of units. Between the text and its basic units which he calls propositions énoncées and which I will simplify as ‘utterances’, he distinguishes an intermediate type of structures which he calls ‘sequences’. He identifies six types of sequences: narrative, descriptive, argumentative, instructional/injunctive, explicative/expositive and dialogal/conversational (see infra). They are composed of clusters of utterances and form a structure which is 1) a hierarchical and relational network, i.e. a whole that can be broken down into parts both linked to each others and linked to the whole that they are constitutive of; 2) a relatively autonomous entity which has a specific internal organisation with both a dependent and an independent relation to the bigger whole to which it belongs. For Adam (1990: 91), a text is therefore a hierarchical complex structure consisting of one or more sequences (elliptical or complete) of the same type or of different types. For example, what we call ‘narrative’ can consist of one or several narrative sequences (complete or not) but it also usually includes descriptive and/or conversational sequences, which are inserted within the narrative sequence(s). Alternatively, what we call ‘conversation’ can contain narrative or argumentative sequences as well as the dialogal/conversational one(s). Adam’s hypothesis is that the ‘regularities’ we can notice in the composition of

Introduction

texts are actually found at the sequential level and not at the textual level because “L’unité ‘texte’ est trop complexe et trop hétérogène pour présenter des régularités linguistiquement observables et codifiables, du moins à ce niveau de complexité” (The unit ‘text’ is too complex and too heterogeneous to offer regularities that could be linguistically observed and codified, at least at this level of complexity; Adam 1999: 82). In other words, Adam refuses to speak of text types such as narratives or conversations but prefers to speak about sequence types on the one hand and speech genres (genres de discours) on the other (1999: 82–87, 1990: 90– 92). Since what we usually call a narrative, for example, is only a text which is predominantly narrative, to speak of a ‘narrative text’ in that case is somewhat reductionist and does not give credit to the complexity of that specific text and the way it balances different types of sequence to form a particular whole, with definite aesthetic intentions. Moreover, a text is never simply ‘a narrative’ but always belongs to a certain speech genre, whether oral or written (e.g. anecdote, novel, fable, fairytale, gossip, murder mystery, joke etc.), and as such it exhibits different characteristics, namely in the organisation of its text units and of course in S&TP strategies. Indeed the corpus of the present book contains many texts that are predominantly narrative. It might be more productive, however, to consider them as belonging to different specific speech genres rather than only as ‘narratives’ in general since it is mostly at the level of speech genre that we will be able to observe regularities, notably in terms of S&TP strategies. On the other hand, many non (predominantly) narrative texts, such as some oral conversations, do in fact contain narrative sequences which S&TP strategies are also worth examining. In any case, I will not only confine myself to the study of S&TP in narrative but also look at other sequence types. Here are the six sequence types identified by Adam (1990: 87–89), which I present in my own translated and shortened version:

1. Narrative: Adam gives a definition that is close enough to that of Labov and which I will summarise thus: the sequence is constituted by a (minimal) temporal succession, i.e. an initial situation which is transformed and a final situation which appears as resulting from that transformation, and it has an end/aim which is expressed in a final evaluation or in an implied moral.18 For Adam, examples range from parable to the joke, including the press short news item, fable, etc.





Introduction

2. Injunctive-Instructional (sometimes called procedural): E.g. cooking recipe, assembly instructions, regulations, rules of a game, etc. An example of minimal sequences would be simple injunctions like ‘STOP’ or ‘No smoking’, the Biblical Ten Commandments being an exemplary case of ‘regulation’. It is important to distinguish between the temporal arrangement of narrative events from the instruction-injunction, which is directed towards the behaviour of the addressee or even of the speaker him/herself. While narrative clauses report actions, injunctions express a prompting for action. Adam also uses Longacre’s notion of a procedural discourse: the logical or chronological succession of basic units referring (often in the future) to the successive stages of a process to execute, which often includes an exhortative clause advising the addressee to scrupulously follow the instructions given. 3. Descriptive: Descriptive sequences represent arrangements not of a linear and causal order but essentially organised in ordered lists, in hierarchies governed by the structure of the available lexicon. The minimal descriptive sequence is obviously the enumeration. Adam’s analysis (1990: 145–190) shows that more advanced descriptive sequences often present a dominant theme which is given a series of properties (and is thus actualised) and can be reformulated or divided into sub-themes which will undergo the same process. 4. Argumentative: One should not equate the fact that every text has a specific argumentative orientation with the existence of this type of sequence. Its minimal type would probably be the syllogism and the enthymena (e.g. cogito ergo sum). Adam quotes Ducrot’s description of certain 17th and 18th-c. texts to explain what argumentative sequences are: Their object is either to prove or to refute a thesis. In order to do so, they base themselves on premises – not always explicit – supposedly incontestable and they attempt to prove that one could not acknowledge these premises without also agreeing with such or such conclusion – this conclusion being either the thesis they set out to prove or the negation of the thesis they want to refute. And to go from the premises to the conclusion, they use different types of argumentative reasoning which seemingly no sensible individual could possibly refuse to take on board. (Ducrot (1980: 81) quoted by Adam (1990: 88), my translation)

5. Explicative: Usually associated with the analysis and the synthesis of conceptual representation, this type of sequence aims at explaining something or

Introduction

at imparting information about it. It encompasses the explanation, the justification and the exposition (with the report of experiment as a special case).

6. Conversational-Dialogal: hierarchical succession of exchanges (i.e. conversational turns), e.g. telephone conversation, daily oral interaction, debate and interview, dialogues in novels and theatre plays, letter, etc. In the present book, we will see that certain types of S&TP are linked to specific sequence types but absent from others. There is for example little need for S&TP in injunctive-instructional sequences or even in explicative ones while it seems that the very nature of conversational sequences (at least when appearing in fictional texts) is to be in Direct Discourse. As for the argumentative sequence, the presentation of arguments (authoritative sentences, proverbs, one’s own opinion, etc.) relies by essence on S&TP, but possibly of a different type than those at work in narrative sequences. The present book will thus set out to study S&TP strategies both with regard to sequence types and with regard to speech genres. It will also be important to ask whether S&TP is not a sequence type in itself.

. Translatio studii I mentioned earlier in this introduction that one of my aims in writing this book was to merge theoretical frameworks belonging to two different linguistic traditions. As such, I very much hope that this book will appeal to both Frenchspeaking scholars and English-speaking scholars because it presents each group with a mixture of familiar elements and of exciting new ones. Unfortunately, as we saw when defining the term ‘discourse’ in the above section, it can be challenging to translate and/or transfer some terms and concepts from one language to the other. Ironically, that problem is especially acute in the case of the very topic of the book. . . Indeed, the quoting of someone else’s or one’s own speech and thought is referred to as discours rapporté in French but ‘reported speech’ in English.19 Moreover while the expression ‘speech and thought presentation’ (S&TP) competes with that of ‘reported speech’ in English, it is not used in French where its closest approximation is discours représenté (‘represented discourse’, see for example Rabatel 2001, 2003, 2004; Roulet 1997: 152, 2000: 4).20 As a middle ground between French and English, I have chosen to use both ‘reported discourse’ and ‘speech and thought presentation’ in this book.





Introduction

While the former might unsettle some English native speakers, I find it more appropriate than ‘reported speech’ since I will strenuously argue that it encompasses both speech and thought (see Part I, Chapter 2, Section 3). This will allow me to speak about reported discourse (Direct Discourse, Indirect Discourse, etc.) in general, and to use reported speech (direct speech, indirect speech, etc.) more specifically when I want to distinguish it from reported thought (direct thought, indirect thought, etc.). Like in French, I will employ ‘reported discourse’ both as a generic noun to refer to the process of reporting discourse and as a count noun to refer to particular occurrences (e.g. there are five reported discourses in this text). While the expression ‘speech and thought presentation’ might seem a bit unusual to French native speakers, it will enable me to go pass the canonical categories of Direct, Indirect, Free Direct and Free Indirect Discourse in order to envisage a wider range of phenomena such as Narrated Discourse and modalisation (see Part I, Chapter 3). I will deal with the translation and transposition of other technical terms as they come up.

Notes . The French terms argumentation and argumentatif more or less equate with the English terms ‘rhetoric’ and ‘rhetorical’ but carry a more linguistic meaning as many of the linguists who developed théories de l’énonciation linked them to rhetoric (see especially Ducrot and Anscombre). See infra for a discussion of my translating of French linguistic concepts such as discours rapporté (‘reported discourse’), théories de l’énonciation (‘enunciation theories’) and genres de discours (‘speech genres’). . Genette (1993 [1991]: 15): ‘The empire of prose fiction falls under the thematic definition while the empire of the poetic in the strong sense falls under the formal definition, the two together being obviously applicable to the vast empire in the middle comprising poetic fiction in the form of epic, classical tragedy, and comedy, romantic drama or verse novel (. . .)’. Moreover, Genette devotes the fourth chapter of his book to the concept of style, which can be linked to our sense of what aesthetic value is (‘Style and signification’, 1993 [1991: 85– 141). . Genette (1993 [1991]: viii, 135) gives the extreme, albeit interesting, example of Stendhal reading and getting inspiration from the French Code Civil (law code) for its sober style. This would then make this text an ‘aesthetic object’ in Genette’s sense but in Stendhal’s eyes only ... . Without that restriction, an ‘ordinary’ letter could be considered as literary from Genette’s perspective while for Bright, it would be so only if it were re-copied, disseminated and preserved (for example edited in the form of a book, as it usually is the case with the correspondence of writers and/or historical figures). . Genette discusses Searle’s description of fiction in speech acts terms and explains that ‘by pretending to make assertions (about fictional beings), the novelist is doing something

Introduction

else, namely creating a work of fiction’ (1993 [1991]: 37–51). For him, it thus ‘seems that intentionally fictional utterances can reasonably be described as non serious (or non literal) assertions that mask, in the mode of indirect speech act (or figure of speech), explicit fictional declarations or requests)’. For a criticism of ‘speech act’ interpretation of fiction, see – amongst others – Adams (1985: 9–23) and Fleischman (1990: 106–107). . We will look at the distinction between ‘author’ and ‘implied author’ later (Part I, Chapter 1) but it needs not concern us here. . This is not to say however that we do not create a specific image of ourselves when speaking or writing. As Ducrot’s theory of split subject will show, our concept of self is in many ways a fiction (see Part I, Chapter 1, Section 2). However, contrary to the author of a fictional narrative, we present this ‘image’ as being our true self. . Fairclough (2001: 18, 54) also defines discourse as spoken or written language use viewed as a form of social practice and in terms of interaction. . Many allusions to Benveniste’s work focus almost exclusively on his opposition between the notions of ‘history’ and ‘discourse’ with regard to the use of past tenses in French (1971: 205–215). It obscures the fact that Benveniste only mentions this at length in one chapter of Problems in General Linguistics (1971) while his views on the more general concept of discourse as opposed to language (langue) – i.e. the one that is of interest to us – come up both regularly and coherently all along this book. It is also the case in the second volume of Problèmes de linguistique générale (1974) where Benveniste reminds us (emphasis is mine): “Toute énonciation est, explicite ou implicite, une allocution, elle postule un allocutaire” (translation: any speech is, explicitly or implicitly, a dialogue, it entails an addressee). . Bakhtin (1986 [1979]: 79): “We learn to cast our speech in generic forms and, when hearing others’ speech, we guess its genre from the very first words; we predict a certain length (that is, the approximate length of the speech whole) and a certain compositional structure; we foresee the end; that is, from the very beginning we have a sense of the speech whole, which is only later differentiated during the speech process. If speech genres did not exist and we had not mastered them, if we had to originate them during the speech process and construct each utterance at will for the first time, speech communication would be almost impossible” (also see Bakhtin (1984 [1979]: 285). My description of speech genres is based on Maingueneau (1998: 45–56) and Adam (1991, 1999). . Other linguistic criteria are the use of pronouns and verb endings, of tenses, of specific syntactic structures (e.g. detachment, hypotaxis, parataxis), etc. The fact that speech genres evolve is obvious when looking at the development of the novel from the nineteenth to the twentieth century (see Part II, Chapter 3) or the way TV-interviews have switched from a formal set of questions and answers to an informal chat (see Fairclough 1994). . For example, in Media Discourse, Fairclough employs the term ‘discourse’ both to refer simply to language in use but also to mean “language used in representing a given social practice from a particular point of view” (Fairclough 2001: 56), i.e. “discourse as a social construction of reality, a form of knowledge” (Fairclough 2001: 18). Similarly, in Language in the News: Discourse and Ideology in the Press, Fowler views discourse as constructing reality and as a “socially and institutionally originating ideology, encoded in language” (Fowler





Introduction

1991: 42). Of course, such a social and ideological approach of discourse is based on the whole work of the French philosopher Michel Foucault (see for example Foucault 1969). . Here I will use the word ‘utterance’ to refer to the minimal coherent unit of discourse, whether oral or written. See Maingueneau (1998: 42–43) and Ducrot (1984: 174–177) for a discussion of this notion and its different meanings in French linguistics. In Part I, Chapter 1 infra, we will see that in the case of Direct Discourse, an utterance is included in another one while being presented as being originally or potentially distinct from the utterance it appears in. . Similarly, Leech and Short (1981: 209) define text as “linguistic communication (either spoken or written) seen simply as a message coded in its auditory or visual medium.” For a discussion of the French term énonciation and its translation in English, see Part I, Chapter 1. . As such, discourse is the object of French ‘analyse du discours’ and of American ‘Ethnomethodology’, i.e. of linguistic school that are specifically interested in the interaction between language and its socio-politico-historical context. See Maingueneau 1991 and Adam 1999, for more details. . In certain cases, however, I will be using excerpts for practical reasons. Namely for the written corpus: excerpts of long medieval prose romances and chronicles; and for the oral corpus: parts of long conversations, without the opening or closing turns. . See Fleischman 1990 for an in-depth discussion of these concepts, and their link with tenses and aspects in French. . This is not far from Labov’s analysis of natural narratives into abstract, orientation, complicating action, evaluation, result/resolution and coda (1972: 363). . McHale (1978: 258–9) generally uses the term ‘discourse’ but sometimes drops it in favour of ‘speech’ when describing the various types of reported discourses. Fludernik (1993) speaks about ‘Speech and Thought Representation’ but refers to specific categories as ‘direct discourse’, ‘indirect discourse’ and ‘free indirect discourse’. The terms ‘direct discourse’ and ‘indirect discourse’ are used in Östman & Verschueren’s Handbook of pragmatics online (www.benjamins.com/online/hop/, see amongst others entries on ‘Discourse representation theory’ and ‘Polyphony’) and are also listed online in Bearth and Fennig’s French/English Glossary of Linguistic Terms (www.sil.org/linguistics/glossary_fe). Note that Short, Semino and Wynne (1997: 219) use the term ‘discourse presentation’ when they want to conflate speech, thought and writing into one term (also see ‘discourse representation’ in Gruber 1993: 475). . In English, the expression ‘represented speech and thought’ is used by Banfield (1973, 1982) in place of ‘Free Indirect Discourse’ (see also Brinton 1980; Ehrlich 1990; Jahn 1992). So it would not be a good substitute to the generic terms ‘S&TP’ or ‘reported discourse’. As an alternative to ‘speech and thought presentation’, one also finds the expressions ‘representation of speech and thought’ (e.g. Caldas-Coulthard 1994; Chafe 1994; Sanders & Redeker 1996) or ‘speech representation’ (e.g. Baynam 1996; Baynam & Slembrouck 1999). The term ‘quotation’ (in French: citation) is sometimes used in a generic way but it can be misleading because it often simply is a synonym of ‘direct discourse’. One also finds ‘language report’ (Thompson 1996) but again the term ‘report’ can also refer to what I call ‘narrated discourse’ (Fludernik 1993: 280).

P I

Concepts

Introduction This part will open with a brief survey of the concepts of théorie de l’énonciation that are directly relevant to the study of reported discourse. I will describe, in particular, the implications of the theory of ‘split subject’ developed by O. Ducrot and underline its possible links with the S&TP continuum developed by Leech and Short (1981 and following). This theoretical background will provide the necessary tools in order to discuss the concept of Reported Discourse in Chapter 2, where I will uncover the various implicit presuppositions on which most scholars base their definitions of this concept and make my own suggestions as to what the study of S&TP should encompass. In Chapter 3, I will continue in the same vein and examine borderline cases of S&TP, which many linguists would actually not call reported discourses (e.g. Narrated Discourse, ‘press conditional’, use of expressions such as ‘according to’, etc.). These discussions will in turn form the base of my analyses of S&TP strategies in Part II.

Chapter 1

Enunciation theory and S&TP

.

The théorie de l’énonciation: An overview

The théorie de l’énonciation is one of the main theoretical frameworks to be developed in contemporary France and has been central to the study of S&TP in French during the past twenty years. It has been inspired by philosophy of language (Austin, Grice, Searle. . .) as well as by the works of Bakhtin, Jakobson, Bally and Benveniste, all of which have in common that they do not look at language as an abstract system but instead focus on its relations to its users and context.1 As such, the théorie de l’énonciation can be said to be firmly linked to discourse pragmatics. Its approach is based on the proposition that the utterances (énoncés) of a discourse inevitably contain traces of the locutionary activity (énonciation) that produced them, the context in which they were produced, and the subjectivity of the producer. A difficulty facing any attempt to transpose this theory from French to English is the translation of technical terms such as énoncé, énonciation, énonciateur and locuteur, which do not exist in English and which, in fact, are not commonly found in French either, except as purely linguistic terms. Here, I will anglicise French terms: énoncé → ‘utterance’, énonciation → ‘enunciation’, locuteur → ‘locutor’, énonciateur → ‘enunciator’. It is essential to note that these terms, whether or not they exist in ordinary English, have very specific meanings within the frame of théorie de l’énonciation (thereafter ‘enunciation theory’), which I will carefully define in the course of the present chapter. The word ‘enunciation’, for example, will cease to refer only to the purely physical (articulatory) pronunciation of speech but will broadly denote the general process (mental and physical) that produces the utterance.2 Benveniste defines enunciation as ‘la mise en fonctionnement de la langue par un acte individuel d’utilisation’ (1966: 80 ‘putting language to work through an individual act of utilisation’). When used with this meaning, ‘enunciation’ is viewed as an individual act, the result of which is a singular linguistic object, namely the utterance.3 Each individual utterance is the product of a single act of enunciation, of a particular historical event.4 However, linguistics –



Part I, Chapter 1

whether generativist or structural – traditionally deals not with individual, particular utterances (Saussure’s parole) but, rather with an abstract ideal system, which Saussure calls la langue. Moreover, since enunciation is an act, unlike the utterance, it is ephemeral and not tangible. It would seem then that the concept of ‘enunciation’ is doubly excluded from the scope of linguistics since it is both individual and intangible. Since the 60’s, however several linguists have shown that not everything in enunciation pertains to the chaotic and particular, and that a substantial part of it can actually be described in terms of a system. From their point of view, there is a crucial distinction to be made between each individual enunciation (seen as a single historical event) and the general phenomenon of enunciation, namely a stable system which emerges from the multiplicity of all the individual acts of enunciation. To study enunciation is, thus, to study a set of specific mechanisms that govern the conversion by the locutor of the abstract system of langue into discours. These mechanisms can be studied via the traces they leave in their products, the utterances. Language, or rather discourse, is thus not neutral, it not only conveys information but moreover constitutes an interaction between two protagonists, the speaker and the addressee, through which the former positions himself with regard to his addressee, his enunciation, his utterance, and the world as well as previous and forthcoming utterances.5 This activity leaves traces in the utterance which linguists attempt to systematise. There is not only that which is said (le dit) but also the fact of saying it (le dire), the enunciation that reflects itself in the structure of the utterance. One major research agenda of enunciation theory therefore involves the identification and interpretation of the linguistic traces through which the act of speaking and the beliefs and attitudes of a speaker leave their imprint on the surface structure of the text: shifters,6 presupposition, speech acts and performatives, connectives and ‘enunciative particles’ (i.e. les mots du discours , e.g. mais ‘but’, puisque ‘since’, eh bien ‘so’, certes ‘indeed’, franchement ‘frankly’), adverbs of scale and evaluative adjectives (e.g. peu ‘little’, un peu ‘a little’, trop ‘too much’. . .), aspects, modalities, . . . and of course Speech and Thought Presentation.7 Although based on a set of relatively well-defined and unified concepts such as ‘enunciation’ or ‘utterance’, it would be misleading to envisage the framework of enunciation theory as a homogeneous whole.8 Indeed many influential scholars have worked within this framework since its origins in the 60’s but the orientations of these studies have been quite diverse and have not always been necessarily linked to S&TP. Sections two and four will focus on two scholars whose research is especially relevant to the study of reported discourse, Oswald Ducrot and Dominique Maingueneau.

Enunciation theory and S&TP

. Ducrot’s theory: A split subject Ducrot is a very complex thinker and he has written on almost every topic pertaining to enunciation theory: presupposition, reference, speech acts, performatives, irony, argumentation (i.e. rhetoric), and, of course, reported discourse. His thoughts and theories have sometimes evolved fairly drastically between one book and the next, and, here I will focus on his 1984 work Le dire et le dit, which presents his latest version of ‘a polyphonic theory of enunciation’ (Chapter 8: 171–233). What is of interest to our topic is his re-thinking of Bakhtin’s notion of ‘polyphony’ which he adapts from the level of a literary text to the level of a single utterance.9 He contends that there can be several ‘voices’ present in one single utterance (not all of them being necessarily identifiable with a specific name or even a real person). From there, Ducrot goes on to develop a Freudian (and/or Lacanian) idea of a split subject by asserting that, contrary to what somebody like Banfield (1982) might say, there exists not one single speaker but, rather, several entities: 1. Speaking subject: the physical person who produces the utterance (uttering the sounds in the case of speech or writing the words in the case of writing). 2. Locutor: the person responsible for the act of enunciation and referred to as I 3. Enunciator(s): the point(s) of view / voice(s) expressed.10 The two following examples (my creations but closely inspired by Ducrot 1984: 191, 197) will show that these three entities may, but do not have to, be the same person. Let us imagine that I am walking in the forest with a companion. After a long while, she becomes weary and openly complains that she is tired. To this, I answer (rather unkindly): ‘I am tired’ ‘I am tired’ What a wimp! In this example, the pronoun I does not refer to me, the speaking subject who is actually uttering these words, but to my companion. She is thus the locutor (and here the enunciator as well) of the two occurrences of I am tired but I am the locutor of What a wimp. A little further, my companion begins to fear that we are lost and makes clear the fact that she does not trust me with the directions, even going as far as saying: You are really stupid, we should have turned left at the last crossing. To which I answer (justly irritated): Ah I am stupid, you will see! Here we have a very different phenomenon. The pronoun I does indeed refer to me, in other words I am both the speaking subject and the locutor of I am stupid but it is quite clear that I do not share that point of view: the voice (the point of view)





Part I, Chapter 1

expressed is that of my companion, she is the enunciator of I am stupid, while I am both the locutor and enunciator of You will see. It is interesting to note that I could have uttered Ah I am stupid , you will see! even if my companion had not explicitly called me stupid but had merely alluded to the fact that I was wrong (and therefore probably stupid). The ‘voice’ of the enunciator can thus be entirely hypothetical, just as the enunciator herself can be imaginary. For example, in the case of a saying such as When in Rome do as the Romans do, the voice I am evoking is that of a ‘general common sense enunciator’ (on in French). Ducrot (1984: 194–5) also illustrates the distinction between the speaking subject and locutor by means of the following two examples. In the first place, if his son comes back from school with a form that has to be signed by his parents, such as ‘I, Name [. . .] hereby allow my son to participate in the following activity X. . . signature [. . .], date [. . .]’, the only thing Ducrot has to do is to write his name in the space provided, sign and date the form. He is not the empirical producer of these utterances (except for writing the name, date and signature) but once he has signed it, he is considered to be the locutor, and hence responsible or liable for it. Moreover, when looking at a theatre play, Ducrot (1984: 025–206) sees the actor as the speaking subject – a human being playing a certain role, reciting words – and the character/role as the locutor – so that a contemporary French actor (speaking subject) utters a je (‘I’) that refers to Don Diègue (locutor), a Spanish lord in the French 17th-c. play Le Cid (by Corneille). As the above examples clearly suggest and as will been shown at great length in the next section, Ducrot’s tripartite distinction between speaking subject , locutor and enunciator is of paramount significance for the study of S&TP. It is however important to stress that these concepts are also useful to describe phenomena that do not strictly speaking correspond to S&TP. To give an example, Ducrot (1984: 210–211) uses the distinction between locutor versus enunciator to refine Sperber and Wilson’s theory of irony (1981). While Sperber and Wilson see irony quite simply as a speaker mentioning somebody else’s absurd discourse, Ducrot takes pains to explain that what makes an utterance ironic is not that it mentions an absurd point of view but, rather, that it subtly blends that point of view within the utterance of the speaker (i.e. the locutor) without him being equated with its origin (i.e. its enunciator). Ducrot then gives the following example: Yesterday I told you that Peter would come to visit me and you refused to believe me. Today, contrary to your prediction, Peter is here in front of you and me. So pointing at Peter, I could make fun at your mistaken belief by telling you this: As you see, Peter has not come to visit

Enunciation theory and S&TP

me. I could say these words with a smile and/or in an ironic tone. That utterance does more than mention an absurd point of view – as a matter of fact there is no mention (no quotation) in the sense that there is no verbum dicendi or sentiendi- the locutor referred to as me takes responsibility for the enunciation of the utterance but not for the point of view expressed. We are here in the domain of polyphony, which obviously includes but is not limited to reported discourse.11

. Applying Ducrot’s theory to the study of S&TP Ducrot himself does not offer a set of precise definitions for each S&TP category but he discusses them separately in various works (Direct Discourse (1984: 195–8), Indirect and Free Indirect Discourse (1980b, 1980c)). The following definitions based on his tripartite distinction and Maingueneau’s interpretation of it (1991b, 1993) are thus my own, bearing in mind that some of them might be modified in the course of this book:12 – Direct Discourse (DD): the reporting speaker evokes the original13 speech/thought situation and conveys, or rather claims to convey, the exact words [ideas] of the original locutor (underlined in (1), (2) below). The pronouns, tenses and deictic words (here/there, today/yesterday, etc.) of the original discourse stay the same: they are not transposed. (1) Alors Paul m’a regardé et il m’a dit: “Je ne veux pas y aller. Et toi?” [Then Paul looked at me and said “I don’t want to go. Do you?”] There are two locutors (m’
= ‘je’), two enunciators and two different situations of enunciation. Note that the verbum dicendi (sentiendi) does not have to be expressed. In that case we have what is called Free Direct Discourse (it also happens when there are no quotation marks, nor italics in written discourse).14 (2) Alors Paul m’a regardé: Je ne veux pas y aller. Et toi? [Then Paul looked at me: I don’t want to go. Do you?] – Indirect Discourse (ID): the reporting speaker transposes the original utterance in his/her own words. The reported discourse is subordinated to a reporting verb and is introduced by a subordinating conjunction (e.g. Mod. French que, si . . . ).15 The pronouns, tenses and deictics of the reported discourse are switched to the reporting situation of enunciation (underlined in (3)–(6) below). (3) Alors Paul m’a regardé. Il m’a dit qu’il ne voulait pas y aller et m’a demandé ce que je voulais faire. [Then Paul looked at me. He told me that he did not want to go and asked me what I wanted to do.]





Part I, Chapter 1

We have one locutor (referred to as m’ and je) but two enunciators and one single situation of enunciation. In Modern French, ID can also be introduced by a preposition in the case of an infinitival clause: (4) Il m’a dit/conseillé/ordonné/demandé de ne pas y aller. [He told /advised/ordered/asked/ me not to go.] In my view, ID can also be introduced by a lexical expression reporting speech or thought, followed by a completive or an infinitival clause. (5) A l’annonce qu’il ne viendrait pas, tout le monde a applaudi. [At the news that he would not come, everybody clapped.] (6) Son conseil de ne pas venir a renforcé ma décision. [His advice not to come strenghtened my decision.] In principle, there exists a clear distinction between the two enunciators since the quoting clause is clearly separated from the quoted clause. In the quoted clause however, there may be some hesitation as to which represent the words (ideas) of the locutor/enunciator (de re) and those of the second enunciator (de dicto).16 – Free Indirect Discourse (FID) is characterised by the presence of features of Direct Discourse (direct questions, exclamations, deictics, colloquialisms, etc.) reported in the fashion of Indirect Discourse, i.e. with shifted pronouns and tenses but without being syntactically dependent on a reporting clause (i.e. without being directly subordinated to a verbum dicendi or sentiendi and without being co-ordinated to a previous reported clause, see underlined segment in (7) below).). (7) Alors Paul m’a regardé: il ne voulait pas y aller. Et moi? [Then Paul looked at me: he didn’t want to go. Did I?] We have one locutor (referred to as m’ and moi), two enunciators and 1 single situation of enunciation. Since there is no quoting clause, the distinction between the two enunciators is not always very clear.17 Depending on the purpose of FID, it can oscillate between being more on the locutor/enunciator side or on the second enunciator side. – Narrated Discourse (ND): Genette (1972) uses this fourth category, which is not mentioned by Ducrot but could easily be analysed with the same theoretical approach as the previous ones. We are dealing with verbs and/or lexical expressions that refer to an activity of speech or thought but without being followed by a completive or an infinitival clause. The pronouns, tenses and deictics are those of the reporting situation of enunciation.18 (8) Paul m’a regardé. Il m’a fait part de son manque d’enthousiasme pour tout ce truc et m’a demandé mon avis. [Paul looked at me. He told me about his lack of enthusiasm for the whole thing and asked for my opinion.] We have one locutor (referred to as m’ and moi), two enunciators and one single situation of enunciation. Although the enunciative structure is the same as ID and FID, the allusion to the content of the (supposed) original discourse is rather vague and at best a summary

Enunciation theory and S&TP

of what the quoted discourse would be. This means that we are without question on the locutor/enunciator side. Only the external context, e.g. our possible knowledge about what register the locutor/enunciator is supposed to use might allow us to decide whether expression such as tout ce truc (the whole thing) in the above example is his own or that of the other enunciator.

We will see in our analyses that ‘mixed categories’ of reported discourse are equally possible: Direct Discourse with a conjunction, Indirect Discourse without a conjunction, Indirect Discourse including parts in Direct Discourse.19 Other features may also denote S&TP, e.g. expressions such as selon and d’après (according to) or genre and style (like) which can be followed by Direct Discourse or Indirect Discourse (Rosier 1999: 183–200). Even a French verbal mood, the so-called ‘conditionnel de presse’, can be a marker of S&TP (Rosier 1999: 162–171): Le président serait malade, for example, can only imperfectly be translated in English as The president is reported to be sick or According to some sources the president is sick.20 Here again, we have an indication that another enunciator (precise or not) is present in the sentence but his/her voice cannot clearly be delimited nor separated from that of the locutor/enunciator. In fact, as Figure 1 shows precisely, Direct Discourse is the only category where there are two different locutors, one being clearly distinct from the speaking subject. All the other categories have the same locutor but different enunciators and what distinguishes them is only the relationship between the locutor/enunciator and the other enunciator(s). By showing the necessity for a tripartite distinction between the speaking subject, the locutor of a discourse and the various enunciators that might be present within it, Ducrot’s framework provides all the necessary tools for the

¹ Locutor / Enunciator B (Free) DD Non transposed S&TP Speaking Subject = Locutor / Enunciator A Transposed S&TP

Narrated Discourse

‘Conditionnel De Presse’

FID

Speaking Subject = Locutor = Enunciator A Discourse without S&TP or irony, etc. Speaking Subject

= Locutor

ID

¹ Enunciator B

= Enunciator A

Figure 1. Different types of S&TP based on Ducrot’s theory





Part I, Chapter 1

analysis of non-fictional discourse (whether oral or written, literary or not, narrative or not). The speaking subject is the person physically uttering (speaking, writing) words while the locutor is the person responsible for the discourse: the one who tells a story (i.e. the narrator) in the case of a narrative, the one who develops a certain line of argumentation in an argumentative sequence or the one who is doing the reporting in the case of a press article. But while this locutor can be equated with a specific enunciator, he can also call upon other enunciators (other voices and opinions) either by using specific categories of S&TP (i.e. transposed discourses: ID, FID, narrated discourse, etc.) or by using other means such as irony. Whenever a non-transposed form of reported discourse (i.e. (Free) Direct Discourse) is used, another secondary locutor, distinct from the speaking subject is put in place. In my opinion, the impact caused by the rupture between the speaking subject and the secondary (quoted) locutor is what induces our intuition that Direct Discourse is the basic type of S&TP, utterly different from other types; it also explains its power both in terms of the various qualities associated to it (vivacity, truth, faithfulness) and in terms of frequency.21 As I have just said, Ducrot’s framework allows us to describe non fictional narratives whether oral or written. In these, the locutor is also the narrator, the person telling the story and responsible for the narration, the ordering of events and the description of characters. Of course narrators are often themselves characters in their own narratives, a position referred to as ‘experiencing self ’ by opposition to ‘narrating self ’. They can report their characters’ discourses by using transposed S&TP, in which case these are mere enunciators, or they can use Direct Discourse and give their characters the position of secondary locutors. Section four will show that this structure is almost the same for fictional (literary) narratives except for a few refinements which are needed to describe the ‘embedded communicative context’ linked to the concept of fiction (see supra). It is easy to draw a parallel between Ducrot’s use of the distinction ‘locutor versus enunciator’ and the notion of ‘control’ developed by Leech and Short (1981: 344). As is shown in Figure 2, Leech and Short see the categories of reported discourse as a continuum: Narrated Discourses are reported in a way that puts them on a par with other kinds of action and when a narrator reports their occurrence, we are apparently seeing the event entirely from his/her perspective.22 However as we move along the cline of speech and thought presentation from discourse transposed into the discourse of the narrator, first dependent on a quoting clause (ID) and then independent (FID), to non transposed discourse

Enunciation theory and S&TP

Figure 2. S&TP Continuum (simplified version of Leech & Short 1981: 324) Narrator Narrator apparently in partial control apparently in +→– total control Narration Narrated Indirect Free Indirect Direct Discourse Discourse Discourse Discourse

Narrator apparently not in control at all Free Direct Discourse

(DD, FDD), the interference of the narrator “seems to become less and less noticeable, until, in the most extreme version of [FDD], he apparently leaves the characters to talk [think] entirely on their own” (Leech and Short 1981: 324). Before comparing that model to Ducrot’s, note that this structure works for literary fictional narratives as well as for factual narratives (whether literary or spontaneous). Indeed Leech, Short and their team are currently working with written narratives that are not fictional, such as (auto)biographies and press articles.23 Moreover, if one replaces the notion of narrator with that of quoting speaker, the notion of character with that of quoted speaker and the notion of narration with that of discourse, it is clear that the model also works for non narratives. Using the enunciation theory framework developed by Ducrot, it is simple to see why the use of Direct Discourse takes away some control from the narrator, since it enables characters to become locutors in their own right. Similarly, this control is more apparent when characters are presented as mere enunciators as in Indirect Discourse and Free Indirect Discourse. As its name conveniently indicates, Free Indirect Discourse is also ‘freer from control’ than Indirect Discourse in the sense that, due to the absence of a quoting clause in Free Indirect Discourse, the differentiation between the discourse of the narrator/enunciator and that of the character/enunciator is even less clear than it is in Indirect Discourse (see Note 17). As Maingueneau (1993: 108) remarks, Free Indirect Discourse has multiple facets, oscillating between two polarities, that of a discourse devoid of any mark of the character’s subjectivity and that of a discourse very close to Direct Discourse, where the character’s voice largely dominates that of the narrator.24 Of course, as both Leech and Short (1981: 322) and Maingueneau (1993: 79) note, this possible ‘loss of control’ of the narrator is only apparent even in the extreme case of Free Direct Discourse. Indeed the narrator is the main locutor of the text, the I who is the guarantor of the enunciation/ narration of the text as a whole. Characters can only be





Part I, Chapter 1

secondary locutors and, in some texts, secondary narrators, whose narrative is embedded within the main one (see infra).25 As we will see in the second chapter of Part I, the framework developed by Ducrot could further benefit from that of Leech and Short which, by adding a distinction between speech (S) and thought (T), allows for a deeper understanding of the S&TP strategies used along the continuum of discourse ‘control’ (also see Part II, Chapter 3).

. Enunciation theory and S&TP in literary fiction While Ducrot often quotes examples taken from French novels and plays, he does not offer an exhaustive and integrated approach to fictional (literary) narratives. His colleague Maingueneau successfully draws on Ducrot’s enunciation theory in order to study the position of the narrator in fictional literary texts and looks at the use of personal pronouns, deictics, tenses, aspects and modalities as well as reported discourse. In line with Genette (1972), Maingueneau expands a metaphor made by Ducrot (1984: 206–10) by drawing an interesting parallel between the concepts of, on the one hand, speaking subject and locutor and, on the other, writer and narrator. For Maingueneau (1993: 77), the writer (écrivain) of a book is its ‘speaking subject’, in other words the empirical individual who produced the book. This is what Leech and Short (1981: 259) and other Anglo-Saxon narratologists, following Gibson (1950) and Booth (1961), call ‘author’.26 For Maingueneau, the narrator of the book is the instance that the text puts forward as the guarantor for its enunciation. In other words, the narrator is the ‘locutor’ of the narrative, taking charge of the enunciation of the text. However, as Maingueneau (1993: 78–80) points out, when their discourses are presented in the direct mode, the characters in turn become locutors. This process, he adds, is a recursive one: a character can report the Direct Discourse of another character who consecutively becomes a locutor. In certain cases, of course, a character-locutor can actually take the position of a second narrator within the text, like Nellie Dean does in Emily Brontë’s Wuthering Heights.27 Moreover, Maingueneau (1993: 97–110) notes, when the discourses of different characters are reported in an indirect way, these characters assume the status of enunciators whose discourse is embedded (Indirect Discourse) or blended (Free Indirect Discourse) within the narrative of the narrator/locutor. I would add that this is also the case when their discourses are not reported but merely described, as in Narrated Discourse. The diagram in Figure 3 is an

Enunciation theory and S&TP ORDINARY DISCOURSE

F I C T I O N A L

N A R R A T I O N

C H A R A í C T N E A R R S R ’ A D T I I S V C E O U R S E S

Speaking Subject

Locutor

Writer (author)

Narrator

Enunciator

Character Enunciator (F)ID, ND, etc.

Character 1 Locutor (possibly secondary narrator) (F)DD

Character 2 Locutor (F)DD

Character 2 Enunciator (F)ID., ND, etc.

Figure 3. Comparison of ordinary and fictional narratives, based on Maingueneau’s theory

attempt to represent Maingueneau’s description of the successive layers present in fictional narratives. In the same way as he distinguishes between the writer (real individual) and the narrator, Maingueneau (1993: 77–78) – still in line with Genette (1972) – differentiates between the ‘real’ reader (public), who will actually read the text (and about whom, in theory, we know nothing), and the figure of the reader built in and by the text itself (the lecteur or, in the case of a narrative, the narrataire). Of course the character-locutor also usually addresses his/her discourse to a ‘character-addressee’ unless, having become a second narrator, he/she takes the first narrator as his/her addressee; for example, in Wuthering





Part I, Chapter 1

Heights, Nellie Dean takes Mr. Lockwood, the I-narrator of the book, as her addressee (see Leech & Short 1981: 263).28 In fact, Maingueneau’s approach to the communicative situation in literary fiction as outlined above is very close to Leech and Short’s (and to that developed in general by Anglo-Saxon narratologists).29 Both approaches emphasise the purely textual nature of entities such as narrator and reader as well as their complete independence from real individuals (the actual writer and the real reader). They also both insist on the embedded nature of the discourse of characters within the text and allow for the representation of complex narratives with several narrators and addressees. Contrary to Anglo-Saxon narratologists, however, Maingueneau does not use the concept of ‘implied author’ but this is a problem only in the case of so-called first-person narratives, where an obvious difference exists between the image of the author as one can ‘reconstruct’ it from the text (i.e. the implied author) and the position of the narrator. In Wuthering Heights, for example, it is easy to differentiate the I–narrator, Mr. Lockwood, from the author, Emily Brontë. Although it is indeed impossible to reach Emily Brontë as a real person, or the empirical producer of the novel, it is possible – albeit risky – to build a certain image of her from the text and to imagine what her opinions or motives were while writing it. In the case of firstperson narratives, I think that it would be simple to explain the presence of implied author with the notion of enunciator: the voice of the implied author might be tangible in the text (discernible in, for example, choice of lexicon, interest in certain events, and so forth), but never as that of a locutor responsible for the enunciation (see Figure 4). In the case of so-called third-person narratives however, it is easy to see why the notion of an implied author can be dispensed with since the two notions are often merged, as Leech and Short readily admit (1981: 266). As a matter of fact, the examples they give to illustrate the notion of a ‘separate’ implied author are all first-person narratives (e.g. Lolita, Wuthering Heights, David Copperfield) and never third-person narratives. Of course, all narratives, even the most impersonal ones, have a narrator.30 As Fleischman (1990: 109) says, “what

Narrator

=

Implied Author

= locutor = I

differs from

= one of the text’s enunciators

Figure 4. First-person narration

Enunciation theory and S&TP

Narrator

↔

Implied Author

= locutor = (I)

equated with

= one of the text’s enunciators

Figure 5. Third-person narration

is conventionally understood by ‘third-person narration’ is that the voice that speaks the text is not associated with a story participant; it may even correspond to an unpersonified textual stance”. In my opinion, it is because this narrator – or narrative instance – is unnamed and not associated with a story participant that we feel free to equate him/her with the implied author of the text.31 So I think that it is possible to envisage the implied author as an enunciator that also corresponds to the locutor of the text (its narrator). In impersonal narratives, this correspondence is only implicit while in other narratives, it is shown explicitly through the use of sentences in the first person (see Figure 5).

. Voice, point of view and the notion of enunciator A slight problem with the framework proposed by Ducrot and Maingueneau is their indiscriminate use of the terms ‘voice’ and ‘point of view’. In French, as in English, both terms have a physical meaning and a more abstract one. Voice implies sounds which one can physically perceive (hear). As such, it can be associated with the term ‘speech’ and thus with the category of ‘reported speech’ as opposed to ‘reported thought’. Of course ‘voice’ can also be used to refer to less material entities: we can hear voices within ourselves that carry specific opinions, for example the voice of reason or that of our conscience. In that sense, it could be associated with the category of reported thought. When he speaks about the enunciator, Ducrot uses the term ‘voice’ in an abstract way: he does not refer to the physical sounds produced by the speaking subject but rather to opinions which might or might not refer to speech and whose origins are different enunciators (real or not). This is why he can alternate this term with that of ‘point of view’. In French, the meaning of ‘point of view’ can be a spatial one, in other words the position (standpoint) from which one sees things, or a slightly more abstract one, namely the way in which one sees things.32 However the term ‘point of view’ may also be described as the result of a mental operation and may take on the meaning of opinion, idea or even attitude. As such it could be





Part I, Chapter 1

linked to the category of reported thought. However, once again, Ducrot uses the term in a very broad way, without specifying whether it refers to speech or to thought. In fact, to the best of my knowledge, neither Ducrot nor Maingueneau ever really discuss their use of this notion (nor on their use of the term ‘voice’). They seem to see these terms as referring to the ‘stuff ’ coming from the enunciator: what he might have said/thought, what he is seen as thinking and even sometimes what his attitude is. It can be reconstructed from the utterance but, as shown above in the case of irony, it does not have to be expressed explicitly by reported discourse and is, thus, a very fluid notion. It is important to point out that, for narratologists, the term ‘point of view’ has kept a meaning closer to its spatial one; it refers to the perspective through which the narrative is filtered, that of the narrator but also that of the characters (this filtering process is also called ‘focalisation’). As Rimmon-Kenan (1983: 72), following Genette, points out, A person (and, by analogy, a narrative agent) is capable of both speaking and seeing, and even of doing both at the same time – a state of affairs which facilitates the confusion between the two activities. Moreover it is almost impossible to speak without betraying some personal ‘point of view’, if only through the very language used. But a person (and, by analogy, a narrative agent) is also capable of undertaking to tell what another person sees or has seen. Thus, speaking and seeing, narration and focalisation [point of view], may, but need not, be attributed to the same agent.

The fact that Ducrot equates ‘voice’ with ‘point of view’ is certainly misguiding here since, for narratologists, ‘voice’ would be linked to the activity of narration (who speaks?) and point of view to the activity of focalisation (who sees?).33 Finally, the fact that Ducrot and Maingueneau link the notion of ‘point of view’ to that of ‘enunciator’ points to a puzzling question that arises within their framework, namely to what extent can the notion of ‘enunciator’ be equated to that of Genette’s ‘focalizer’ (i.e. reflector, centre of perspective)? Ducrot does, at one point, draw a parallel between these two terms (1984: 208– 9) but he does not reflect on the consequences that his metaphor entails. It appears to me that the notion of ‘enunciator’ is, indeed, extremely useful in helping us to understand that of ‘focalizer’. However we must also be aware that, while a focalizer is necessarily an enunciator, the reverse is not true: an enunciator is not always a focalizer. In short, the focalizer(s) of a narrative is/are selected from various enunciators. Indeed, a text presents us with many different enunciators, some of which are also locutors (i.e. narrators and character’s Direct Discourse). Some enunciators are specific characters, while

Enunciation theory and S&TP

others are hypothetical instances (common sense enunciator, so-called thirdperson authors, and so forth). We can recognise the existence of these different enunciators through particular linguistic and contextual means (reported discourse, verbal aspects, evaluative adjectives, irony, etc.). However only one of them at a time is selected as the focalizer, the narrator being the focalizer by default. At this point, it is worth noting that different categories of S&TP are linked to different types of narratological points of view. For example Free Indirect Thought is generally deemed to be especially suited to expressing the point of view of the characters (enunciators) within the discourse of the narrator (locutor) and is, thus, strongly linked to what Rimmon-Kenan (1983) calls ‘internal focalisation’.34 One might also mention that the notion of ‘focalizer’ should not necessarily be restricted to the field of narrative fiction. Indeed, any narrative – and even any text – is told from a certain perspective (mainly that of the main locutor-enunciator) while sometimes also referring to the perspectives of other enunciators/focalizers. I will keep this point in mind for my textual analyses (Part II).

. Conclusion In conclusion, it is clear that enunciation theory offers a great deal to our understanding of S&TP. It is equally obvious that, far from contradicting one another, the version of enunciation theory specific to Ducrot and Maingueneau’s and the linguistic approach to literary fiction developed by Leech and Short would enormously benefit from being combined into a harmonious framework. Moreover, my ‘narratological discussion’ about the notion of ‘enunciator’ (both in terms of ‘implied author’ and of ‘focalizer’) is closely linked to my study of speech and thought presentation at large. It alludes to the fact that there are other ‘voices’, ‘points of view’ – i.e. discourses – behind that of the main locutor of a text.

Notes . See Adam (1990: 7–32, 1999: 5–42) and Maingueneau (1991a: 9–28, 107–68) for a detailed history of enunciation theory in France and its links to Discourse Analysis and Textual Linguistics. . The term ‘enunciation’ is used in Östman & Verschueren’s Handbook of pragmatics online (www.benjamins.com/online/hop/, see amongst others entries on ‘Benveniste’, ‘Geneva





Part I, Chapter 1

School’ and ‘Polyphony’) and is also listed online in Bearth and Fennig’s French/English Glossary of Linguistic Terms (www.sil.org/linguistics/glossary_fe) . Kerbrat-Orecchioni (1980: 28–30) notes that, by metonymy, the term ‘enunciation’ is also sometimes used to refer to the product of the activity of speaking, in more or less the same way as ‘utterance’ (also see Rosier 1999: 51–56). . An utterance (énoncé) is an occurrence of a sentence (phrase) in the same way that philosophers of language see the ‘sentence-token’ as an occurrence of a ‘sentence-type’. In other words, the sentence can be defined as “the linguistic material which constitutes the object of speech, the combination of signs which we attempt to produce through a certain sequence of sounds or letters. At this point, it is still an abstract entity, perceivable not in itself but only through its concrete manifestations.” (Ducrot 1981: 181). The utterance is “the realisation (in its active meaning) of a sentence in the form of a determined sonorous or graphic sequence, localised in a determined point in space and time” (ibid.). Ducrot extends this distinction to semantics by opposing ‘signification’, namely the semantic value possessed by sentences before any usage, and ‘meaning’, the semantic value conveyed by particular utterances (see, amongst others, Ducrot 1981: 181). . There is here an obvious and deliberate link to Jakobson’s (1961) diagram of communication. See Kerbrat-Orecchioni (1980: 11–28) for a discussion and an expansion of that diagram in terms of enunciation theory. . Jakobson (1957) called ‘shifters’ the elements in the utterance that can not be understood unless the circumstances in which they have been uttered or the situation of enunciation are known. For example, the words I, you, here and now in the sentence ‘I want you to come here right now’ can only be completely understood if one knows who is speaking to whom, and where and when the speech act occurs. Although each of these words has a general ‘stable’ meaning and can be found in the dictionary, it is not possible to grasp their exact meaning in a specific utterance without knowing about the circumstances of their enunciation. The word ‘I’ may be defined as always referring to the locutor of the utterance in which it appears but the referent will change with each occurrence. As Benveniste (1971: 226) says, ‘the reality to which it refers is the reality of discourse’. The category of ‘shifter’ is a vast one and includes, amongst others, pronouns, tenses, and spatial and temporal deictics. . Kerbrat-Orecchioni (1980: 30–32) remarks that the term linguistique de l’énonciation can be interpreted in both a restrictive and an extensive way. From an extended perspective, to study enunciation means to study all parameters that constitute the enunciative frame, i.e. the protagonists (speaker and addressee), the communicative situation, the spatio-temporal circumstances and all the general conditions overseeing to the production and the reception of the message. However, most linguists restrict themselves to the study of the locutor’s presence within the utterance, i.e. the modalities of ‘subjectivity in language’. . This is why it would probably be better to speak about enunciation theories in the plural. . In fact, while Ducrot seems to believe that he was the first to do so, Roulet (1985: 69– 70) shows that Bakhtin had already thought of applying his notion of polyphony to single utterances, whether in literature or in utterances of ordinary language. . Since the terms ‘locutor’ and ‘enunciatot’ are unfamiliar to English native speakers, I will use them only when mentioning points pertaining specifically to Durot’s theory. I return

Enunciation theory and S&TP

later to the theoretical problems caused by the terms ‘voice’ and ‘point of view’, which Ducrot seems to use interchangeably, and I will discuss the importance of distinguishing between them. The terms ‘locutor’ and ‘enunciator’ are used in Östman & Verschueren’s Handbook of pragmatics online (www.benjamins.com/online/hop/, see amongst others, the introduction and entries on ‘Benveniste’ and ‘Polyphony’) and are also listed online in Bearth and Fennig’s French/English Glossary of Linguistic Terms (www.sil.org/linguistics/glossary_fe) . What I mean here is that only the context can tell us whether the point of view expressed is that of an enunciator who is distinct from the locutor of the sentence. This is also often the case with Free Indirect Discourse (see infra) but not for other ‘traditional’ categories of reported discourse. . For reasons that will be explained later, I am using the generic term ‘reported discourse’ to refer to both reported speech and reported thought. Of course this does not mean that one is the same as the other (see Part I, Chapter 2). . The term ‘original’ should not be interpreted as ‘real’ and ‘anterior’: reported discourse whether direct or indirect can refer to a future (and thus hypothetical discourse) and it can also summarise several discourses at once. Part I, Chapter 2. . For Maingueneau (1998: 125) and Rosier (1999: 266–97), amongst others, Free Direct Discourse (FDD) does not have any mark to indicate that it is Direct Discourse, i.e. no verbum dicendi AND no quotation marks/italics (in written discourse, that is). For Leech and Short and their team, Free Direct Discourse occurs when there is either no verbum dicendi or no quotation mark (Semino et al. 1997: 23; Short et al. 1997: 224–5; Wynne et al. 1998: 236). Predictably their definition does not enable them to distinguish clearly Direct Discourse from Free Direct Discourse and they argue that it might simply be a single category (Short et al. 1996: 118–9). We will see in Part II, Chapters 3 and 4 that Rosier’s definition is probably the most useful one when one looks at written discourse. . The subordinating conjunction is mandatory in ‘normative’ French but is optional in English e.g. He said [that] he did not want to go. Also see Part II, Chapter 1, Section 5. . See amongst other Coulmas (1986b: 4), for examples such as Oedipus said his mother was beautiful where the de dicto interpretation is that Oedipus originally used the expression “my mother” and the de dicto interpretation is that he used the name “Jocasta” since he was unaware (unlike the quoting speaker) that Jocasta was in fact his mother. . See Marnette (1996, 1998) in French or Fludernik (1993), Mc Hale (1978), Pascal (1977) in English. . The term ‘narrated discourse’ is borrowed from Genette (1972). Because it is a reference to quoted discourse but not a representation of it, many scholars do not take Narrated Discourse into account when studying S&TP. We will discuss this point and the problems inherent to the very definition of this category in Part I, Chapter 3. . See Part I, Chapter 3, Section 4 as well as Part II, Chapter 1, Section 5, Chapter 2, Section 2 and Chapter 4, Section 2. . Press Conditional and markers such as selon X are examined in Part I, Chapter 3. . This irreducible difference between Direct Discourse and other types of reported discourses may also be linked to the view of Direct Discourse as pure mention (versus use),





Part I, Chapter 1

held by many linguists, notably Authier-Revuz (1995) whose seminal work on ‘the words of the Other’ includes, but is not restricted to, reported discourse. A typical example of mention is a metalinguistic statement such as “the word ‘lady’ has four letters”, that refers to language, not to the world, and to a form, not to a content. For Authier-Revuz, Direct Discourse functions in the same way: it is an explicit form of heterogeneity. Locutors use their words in quoting discourse (standard mode) but mention in quoted discourse the words of quoted locutors (autonymic mode). Through a syntactic rupture between quoting and quoted discourses, there is an enunciative operation that inserts the modalisation of the original discourse into that of the quoting discourse (the process of autonymisation). Although I would tend to agree with the fact that Direct Discourse is intrinsically different because it involves two locutors (therefore two enunciations and two modalisations), I would disagree with the idea that Direct Discourse cannot be used by the quoting locutors. It is true that quoting locutors do not take responsibility for the Direct Discourses (i.e. their Je are different) but since quoting locutors are also the main locutors of their texts (narrators, journalists, etc.), they do actually recontextualize the Direct Discourses and build upon them to form a coherent discourse (especially from an argumentative point of view). Thus by inserting Direct Discourses within their own discourses, main locutors set up two complementary processes: the quoted discourse is given a new meaning (re-contextualized) through the quoting discourse (this is especially clear when a quotation is made out of context and therefore misinterpreted) while at the same time giving meaning to the surrounding discourse (so much so that it can be followed by a connective and be part of an argumentative sequence). The lack of syntactic rupture is also clearly illustrated when Direct Discourses are inserted within Indirect Discourses or added to Narrated Discourses, as we will see in Part I, Chapter 3, Section 4. See Rosier (1999: 114–5) and Tuomarla (2000) for recent criticisms of the ‘DD as mention’ theory. Also see Perrin (1994) and Clark & Gerrig 1990 for discussions linking reported discourse and the use/mention debate (both are mentioned in Tuomarla 2000: 33–9). . In this version, I do not distinguish between reported speech and reported thought, which Leech and Short rightly do. Also, I am using the term ‘narrated discourse’ instead of Leech and Short ‘narrative description of a speech act’ (e.g. he promised to return) or ‘narrative description of a thought act’ (e.g. he wondered about her love for him). See Part I, Chapter 3, Section 1 for a discussion of these terms. . Their results are published in a series of papers which I will hereafter refer to globally as ‘Leech, Short and their team’: Short et al. (1996), Leech et al. (1997), Semino et al. (1997), Short et al. (1997), Wynne et al. (1998), Semino et al. (1999), Short (2002). . This explains why FID has many different functions according to the type of narrative and to the purposes of the author (Marnette 1998: 144–151; Leech & Short 1981: 334–6). As will be explained below, its functions also vary depending on whether it reports speech or thoughts. . This is the case in an epistolary novel such as Laclos’ Liaisons dangereuses, where the letters of the protagonists appear after an ‘introduction’ by the person who purports to have found them. It is thus understood that it is that person (the narrator?) who is responsible for the ordering of the letters, their transcription and, maybe, even their selection (some

Enunciation theory and S&TP

could have been disregarded due to lack of interest). The letters are, thus, introduced within a main narrative frame. . I will come back later to the fact that Maingueneau does not use the concept of ‘implied author’ in his description. In short, his concept of ‘writer’ corresponds to what Anglo-Saxon narratologists usually call ‘author’ while he merges their notion of ‘implied author’ with that of ‘narrator’. . All the examples from English literature are mine and not Maingueneau’s. . Maingueneau does not use the concept of ‘implied reader’ either (see Note 26 and infra) . While Leech and Short’s S&TP continuum is very original, their approach to the communicative situation in literary fiction is not: it is simply representative of a general trend in Anglo-Saxon narratology. A notion such as ‘implied author’, for example, was already present in Booth (1961). . Fleischman (1990: 109): “Narration is traditionally said to be in either a first-person or a third-person voice, though the term ‘third-person narration’ has been criticised because of its implication that the Speaker is speaking not as a first person but as a third person, which is impossible; a speaker is by definition an ego who can speak only ‘in the first person’ (see Tamir 1976).” . Clearly, borderline cases also exist where narrators refer to themselves in the past in order to explain how they know about the story they are telling (e.g. I saw this happen, I met this person who told me that story, etc.). In these cases, narrators do not participate in the main story but do, in a certain respect, tell another story – the genesis of their narratives – in which they are themselves characters in the past. Depending on that second story (length, verisimilitude, etc.), it can, then, be more or less difficult to associate the narrator with the implied author and even to decide whether we are dealing with a third-person or a firstperson narration. See also Genette’s classification between narrateur extradiégétique (outside the story) versus intradiégétique (inside the story), and narrateur homodiégétique (tells a story about him/herself) versus hétérodiégétique (tells a story about others)(1972: 229). . In French, that meaning is derived from an older one: a spot where something should be placed in order to be well looked at and by extension a sight worth looking at (Robert 1988). . Fludernik (1996, 2001) is representative of a new trend in narratology that considers the distinction between voice and point of view as unnecessary. She argues that “the linguistic clues for determining focalization, (. . .), are the same clues as those employed to determine voice” (Fludernik 2001: 633). Actually her argument for the non-distinction between these two narratological concepts is based on the broader view that there is no need to hypothesise the existence of a narrative voice at the theoretical level. To simplify her views, if there is no narrative voice (as she says is the case in some new types of narratives created in the 20th-c.), there is no need to differentiate between voice and point of view. This is of course a very interesting point, which unfortunately I do not have the space to discuss here. Suffice to say that I will keep a more traditional ‘Genettian’ approach, as I think it is relevant for all the texts I am working with. However I will briefly come back to this point in my general conclusion. Also see the special issue of New Literary History (2001: 32–3), “Voice and Human Experience”.





Part I, Chapter 1 . In a previous work (Marnette 1998) I explained that the situation is actually more complex that it seems and that Free Indirect Speech might not always entail internal focalisation. Also see Part II, Chapter 3 for more details on internal and external focalisation as well as the role of Free Indirect Discourse in literature.

Chapter 2

What is ‘reported discourse’?

.

Introduction

Although there are numerous lively discussions and debates about the different categories of reported discourse and their respective borders, it is somewhat paradoxical to note that there is very little interest in a basic definition of reported discourse per se. Indeed, more often than not, definitions used by linguists studying S&TP, are not explicit but implicit and based on subconscious assumptions. In the present chapter, I will focus on three questions: 1. How should we understand the term ‘reported’? 2. What is covered under the generic term ‘discourse’? 3. Does ‘reported discourse’ only mean ‘discourse of the other(s)’? I will not attempt to trace the history of the expression ‘reported discourse’ or of other terms used to refer to that field since this has been brilliantly done by Rosier in her book Le Discours rapporté; Histoire, théories, pratiques (1999: 44– 62). I will instead direct my attention to the concept itself, basing my reflections on examples taken from the Spoken French corpus and therefore often calling into question the traditional views of ‘reported discourse’, typically based on the study of 19th and 20th-c. literature.

. How should we understand the term ‘reported’? . Anteriority and objectivity The term ‘reported’, understood with a global meaning usually implies a certain idea of anteriority if not the pre-existence of an original and ‘objective’ discourse. When used with this meaning, it is a synonym of restated, reiterated, repeated, reproduced or, in cases other than Direct Discourse, transposed and paraphrased. Many linguists have, however, repeatedly shown that this original discourse does not necessarily exist (Fludernik 1993: 398; Maingue-



Part I, Chapter 2

neau 1991a: 104; Rosier 1999: 237; Sternberg 1982; Tannen 1989: 98–133; Vincent & Dubois 1997: 21–23). Indeed, in fictional narratives, as Maingueneau (1993: 96) notes, the narrative does not report real speech which has actually taken place with one or two alterations, rather the reported speech is entirely invented in the same way as is the rest of the narrative, in which the reporting takes place (also see Fludernik 1993: 20; Genette 1983: 34). As a matter of fact, Tannen (1989: 98–133) following Sternberg (1982), showed convincingly that any reported discourse, be it direct or indirect, whether in a fictional narrative or not, was a constructed discourse.1 She demonstrated that Direct Discourses in spontaneous oral narratives were not necessarily an exact reproduction of somebody else’s discourse but aimed at giving an impression of vividness and authenticity to the narrative and at involving addressees in the narrative by producing familiar speech situations which they could identify with.2 Sometimes these discourses are even completely made up by the person quoting them. The types of examples Tannen found in Spoken English are also present in Spoken French.3 Direct Discourse (in bold) can thus: – correspond to an utterance-type that appears to have been uttered several times: (1) Mousset, pp. 92–3 [conversation between friends]4 S4 c’est un gars qui a toujours dit le jour que heu ma femme elle enfin sa femme elle avait un cancer S0 mm S4 le jour qu’elle ferme les yeux beh: + je me fais S0 oh XXX S4 heu ++ je pourrai pas le supporter ça je l’ai enfin je l’ai toujours entendu dire mais enfin + [S4 yes + it is a guy that always said the day my wife she that is his wife had cancer S0 mm S4 the day she closes her eyes beh: + I will S0 oh XXX S4 heu ++ I will not stand it that I always heard him say but +]

– be explicitly presented as summarising the content rather than the form of what was uttered in a single utterance (also see Meiller 1966: 367):

What is ‘reported discourse’?

(2) Barra, p. 6 [mature student speaks about his experience at a nursing school] + parce qu’il faut pas dire des fois on dit oh les jeunes-ci les jeunes-là mais ils sont comme ils sont comme tout le monde ils sont aussi motivés hein + [+ because one should not say sometimes one says oh young people this young people that but they are like everybody they are as motivated hein +]

– represent what several people said: (3) Nevchehirlian, p. 21 [conversation about unions’ politics] + c’était la révolution les patrons ils disaient oh ça va être la ruine du pays euh on va se casser la gueule patati patata et pourtant on a eu les quinze jours de congé(s) et ça a pas été la ruine du pays [+ it was the revolution the bosses said oh it will be the country’s downfall euh we are going to fall flat on our faces and so on and so forth and yet we got fifteen days of paid leave and it was not the country’s downfall]

– be provided by an addressee who offers a line of dialogue and takes on the role of one of the characters of the narrative told by the speaker: (4) Barallier, pp. 17–8 [middle-aged women chat reminiscing about their childhood and their youth] S1 quand j’allais au bal plus grande + euh ++ il fallait que je rentre à neuf heures + le bal il commençait à huit heures et demie + Sx et oui alors XXX S1 des fois qu’un garçon venait me chercher pour danser je disais S6 non merci au revoir S1 tu finiras la danse tout juste ++ et je galopais + [S1 when I would go to a dance once I got older euh ++ I had to go home at nine o’clock + the dance would begin at half past eight + Sx yes then XXX S1 whenever a guy would come to invite me to dance I would say S6 no thanks bye S1 you will finish the dance just when it ends ++ and I would dash home +]

Finally, when thoughts are reported, whether these of the speaker or those of another person, they obviously do not reproduce ‘real’ discourses (see next section).





Part I, Chapter 2

Moreover, Tannen (1989: 101) following Bakhtin (1986[1929]: 117 and 1981[1975]: 340), insists on the fact that any quoted discourse necessarily implies a change in the meaning of the ‘original’ discourse because it is inevitably transformed by the context of the quoting discourse. According to her, the act of reporting a discourse within a conversation is thus as much a creative action as the creation of reported discourses in a fictional narrative or a theatre play.5 One must also stress that an important number of reported discourses are explicitly virtual, referring to what will be said or thought (5), what could be said or thought (also see Mochet 1993a, Semino et al. 1999) (6), or even what is not said or thought (7). The reported enunciation is thus not inevitably anterior to the enunciation that it appears in.6 (5) Asipag, p. 69 [a beekeeper describes his occupation] l’apiculteur qui vous dira qu’il ne se fait pas piquer + eh bé croyez-moi sur parole c’est un gros menteur + [when an beekeeper tells you that he does not get stung + well believe me he is a big liar +] (6) Nevchehirlian, p. 9 [conversation about unions’ politics] si tu te syndiques pour te faire plaisir pour te dire tiens moi je suis syndiqué + c’est pas la peine + [if you join the union to feel good about yourself to tell yourself well I am a union member + it is not worth it + ] (7) Barallier, p. 7 [middle-aged women chat reminiscing about their childhood and their youth] elle me disait toujours je le dirai + à Jeannot + elle pouvait pas dire je le dirai + à papa [she would always say to me I will tell + Jeannot + she couldn’t say I will tell + dad ]

When expressions such as genre in French and like in English introduce Direct Discourses, they present in a very condensed fashion the quoting speaker’s own interpretation of what the quoted speaker(s) said/thought or might have said or thought; this is why Fleischman and Yaguello (2004) call them ‘interpretative quotatives’ (also see Tannen 1989: 115): (8) Spoken French, Example taken from Fleischman and Yaguello (2004) Quand je lui ai dit que t’étais pas sûr de venir elle était vraiment pas contente, GENRE si vous jouez pas je chante pas. [When I told her that you were not sure you would come she was really not happy, LIKE if you are not playing, I am not singing.]

What is ‘reported discourse’?

. Towards a continuum from reproduction to assertion Other linguists like Vincent and Dubois (1996,1997) are also well aware that reported discourse is constructed discourse. In their study of direct and indirect speech in Spoken Canadian French, they note, following de Gaulmyn (1992), that the canonical definition of reported discourse as a reproduction of speech (i.e. the production of speech previously uttered by a specific speaker) represents only a part of the entire range of action of this discourse strategy.7 In their corpus, 44% of the occurrences of reported speech (2131 out of a total of 4860, including both Direct and Indirect Discourses) had not actually been uttered in a prior context but could/would be said or were being said at the very time of their ‘reporting’. However all these occurrences had in common the particular syntactic shaping (DD or ID) that specifically isolates two enunciations, the ongoing quoting discourse and the highlighted quoted speech, whether real or fictive (Vincent & Dubois 1997: 10). The two scholars thus set out – amongst other things – to examine how and why a structure apparently so easy to define such as that of reported discourse can be used for purposes that are so clearly different and in some ways opposed to its original one. In other words, they try to understand why and how its strategy is not always a strategy of speech reproduction but may also be a strategy of speech production (1997: 15). They organise the occurrences of reported discourses found in their corpus into five categories of use, regardless of them being Direct Discourse or Indirect Discourse, but based on certain specific criteria such as the tense (and in some case the person) of the verbum dicendi, the mention of specific speaker and addressee or of a determined context of enunciation, etc. Their five categories (1997: 59–63) are presented here in their English version but without their examples (1996: 366–7): Reproduction: (. . .) contains several indications which strongly suggest the existence of a ‘source-event’: past tense [of the verbum dicendi] (generally the compound passé composé), determined interlocutors, and defined and plausible communication situation. This category is the most closely associated with the classical definition of reported speech. Utterances in the category are associated with narrative discourse; in other words the reporting of speech corresponds to the reporting of events. (. . .) Pseudo-reproduction: (. . .) used in a way that leads one to believe that given words were previously said, while at the same time, there are insufficient indications to clearly place the words in a precise context of being uttered. This use comes closest to reproduced words (from a formal point of view, the reporting verb is often in the passé composé), but there are too few contextual elements – most notably absent is the addressee – to enable a reconstitution of





Part I, Chapter 2

the original scene (. . .); in cases of self-talk [e.g. to say to oneself], it is impossible to know if the words were actually spoken, and even less likely that they were actually heard. Actualisation: (. . .) not a reproduction of a unique and real communication event, but rather a prototype for several similar events. The speaker draws upon his experience in order to produce speech, which applies to the present discourse. Everything indicates that the utterance can be produced as many times as the described context is presented or presents itself. Utterances of this type may be paraphrased: ‘Each time that X is produced, Y “Z”’ or ‘Y always <said/says> “Z”’. The iterative nature of these utterances confers upon them a generalising character; they do not enter, strictly speaking, into the definition of narrative utterances. Invention: To invent speech is to put words, not explicitly said into the mouth of someone, who may be oneself: ‘when X comes, I will tell him “Y”’. Invented discourse is anchored neither in the past nor in the present; the communicative context is precise but fictitious. Assertion: Utterances in our last category of use are most distant from those usually covered by the term ‘reported speech’. The quoted speech always corresponds to an utterance in the present and the utterer is always the speaker je (I) or a collective utterer including je (I). There are no past event, no indications of reproduction, and no context other than that of the interactive event in progress between the interviewer and the interviewee. In fact, if the reporting verb and any other indication of reported speech are removed, the utterance is integrated perfectly, most often as an argument into the discourse in progress. (. . .).[Here we] reach the limit of the locutionary act of ‘saying’. The speaker actually assumes responsibility for what he is saying (prendre en charge), but, by presenting it as reported speech, gives it added emphasis.

Vincent and Dubois order these categories on a continuum (1996: 368, 1997: 63, see Figure 6). At one end, the reported discourse structure is used to reproduce speech but as one goes further along the continuum, towards the right, it is less and less possible to pretend that the quoted speech belongs to a prior enunciation. At the other end, the reported discourse structure is in fact 1

2

3

4

5

Reproduce

Pseudo-reproduce

Actualise

Invent

Assert

+ quote

– quote

Figure 6. From Quotation to Assertion (adapted from Vincent & Dubois (1997: 63))

What is ‘reported discourse’?

used to modalise one’s utterance, we are not dealing with the dit (what is said) but with the dire (the act/way of saying). Both Direct and Indirect Discourse can be used in each category although, of course, there are some specific affinities, for example between Indirect Discourse and assertion (1997: 71). Similarly, it is clear that reproduction is linked to narrative discourse while actualisation, invention and assertion are associated with argumentative discourse (1997: 70). Moreover four dialogues out of five in Vincent and Dubois’ corpus are used in a context of reproduction – and thus with a narrative purpose (1996: 56). Likewise, it is interesting to see that, in their corpus, reported discourses are used mainly for reproduction (39%, 1916 occurrences) and actualisation (34%, 1649 occurrences), then for invention (13%, 621 occurrences) and finally for pseudo-reproduction (8%, 386 occurrences) and assertion (6%, 288 occurrences). Therefore, one of the many fascinating conclusions offered by Vincent and Dubois (1996: 78) is that the structure of reported discourse involves above all strategies of speech presentation and not mainly of speech reproduction. Vincent and Dubois’ conclusions are both convincing and essential for our understanding of S&TP strategies in general and for grasping the term ‘reported’ in particular. However these conclusions also raise further remarks and questions. First, as with any classification presented as a continuum, their five categories are probably best considered as permeable. It is, for example, not necessarily easy, nor possible to distinguish strictly between a reproduction and a pseudo-reproduction. Nor is it entirely clear when we are dealing with an invention or an actualisation. I am especially perplexed in the case of utterances such as the following, which we will analyse in more detail in the next section. (9) Nevchehirlian, pp. 4–5 [conversation about unions’ politics] S2 bon maintenant bon comme tu entends le patronat c’est la loi du plus fort + pour le patron hein + et euh ++ tu dis que c’est une politique générale bien sûr c’est . une poli- une politique générale pour tous les patrons + je vais n’en revenir + [S2 so now well when you hear management it is the law of the fittest + for the boss that is + and euh ++ you say that it is a global strategy of course it is a global strategy for all the bosses + I will come back to it + ]

In this case, the speaker uses a reporting verb in the present but does he mean: – –

you have just said X (reproduction or pseudo-reproduction) anytime one mentions this, you say X (actualisation)





Part I, Chapter 2

–

you say X now and I say Y now (where X is actually invented and presented almost as an assertion).

Second, one has to envisage Vincent and Dubois’ results as linked to a specific discourse genre (spontaneous conversation). In a recent article about the concept of faithfulness, Short et al. (2002) uses Semino et al. (1999)’s results to show that what these linguists call ‘hypothetical S&TP’, i.e. Vincent & Dubois actualisation and invention, is actually fairly rare in their corpus of written English (fiction, (auto)biography, and press articles).8 However, this does not fundamentally contradict Vincent and Dubois’ results because, contrary to Leech, Short and their team, their corpus is not limited to narrative discourse but also includes argumentative sequences, which are clearly connected to categories like actualisation and invention. So while the reproduction category is linked to narrative sequences, both in Leech, Short et al. and in Vincent and Dubois’ corpora, other categories such as actualisation, invention and assertion are linked to argumentative sequences. Third, Vincent and Dubois’ research is limited to certain types of S&TP and does not include Narrated Discourse and Free Indirect Discourse ; it does not take into account reported thoughts other than inner speech (or self talk as they call it) of the type se dire (‘to say to oneself ’; see below). One cannot help asking whether the results would be the same if these types were included in the equation. In their definition of the pseudo-reproduction category, Vincent and Dubois allude to the fact that the reported thoughts are de facto excluded from the reproduction category. This points to a possible problem with their classification since although it is right to say that thought can not actually be reproduced, it is perfectly possible to present them as if they had been uttered: with a precise past tense, defined speaker and addressee (oneself) and a specific enunciation context; the only thing that makes them a pseudo-reproduction is the semantic meaning of the reporting verb but they are presented as if they had been uttered, i.e. with a reproductive intent (also see Part II, Chapter 1). Finally, although Vincent and Dubois are aware of the difficulties in distinguishing Direct Discourse from Indirect Discourse in certain cases , they do not have a specific category for types of mixed discourse such as Direct Discourse with que (not mentioned) and Indirect Discourse without que (1997: 34–36). This might actually be perfectly justified in the fact that there are very few occurrences of these types in their corpus. It might well however be very different if we were to examine press articles (see Part II, Chapter 4).

What is ‘reported discourse’?

. Reported discourse and argumentative sequences Like Vincent and Dubois, Perrin (1995, 1996) clearly underlines the role that reported discourse plays in argumentative sequences. He isolates one role in particular, which he calls a ‘reprise diaphonique’ (diaphonic repeat). Here are some examples taken from my corpus: (9 ) Nevchehirlian, pp. 4–5 [conversation about unions’ politics] S2 ils ont plus de facilités + pourquoi parce que les gens + ils + ils sont moins motivés qu’au- qu’auparavant ff + et ça donne des + ff ++ ça file moins de souci au patronat + bon les mecs ils ont peur de ci ils ont peur du chômage ils ont peur de d’un peu de tout et + le patronat euh + il l’exploite au maximum ++ voilà voilà où on en est S1 tu crois que c’est la seule explication + donc c’est simplement de la mauvaise foi de du patron + d’après ce que tu me dis + il y a eu d’autres explications il y a il y a eu d’autres S2 par rapport à quoi S1 bè si simplement c’est une question de profit pour eux + et pas simplement euh une politique générale + ou simplement euh les affaires ne marchent plus ou et caetera je sais pas S2 bon maintenant bon comme tu entends le patronat c’est la loi du plus fort + pour le patron hein + et euh ++ tu dis que c’est une politique générale bien sûr c’est . une poli- une politique générale pour tous les patrons + je vais n’en revenir + [S2 it is easier for them + why because people + they + they are less motivated than before + and it gives some ++ it gives less worries to the management + so these guys they are afraid of this and that they are afraid of unemployment they are afraid of pretty much everything + and management exploits that a lot ++ that’s it that’s where we are at S1 you think that’s the only explanation + so it’s simply bad faith on the boss’s part + from what you’re saying + there were other explanations there were others S2 with relation to what S1 well whether it is simply a question of profit for them + not only a global strategy + or simply whether business is not doing well et cetera I don’t know S2 so now well when you hear management it is the law of the fittest + for the boss that is + and euh ++ you say that it is a global strategy of course it is a global strategy for all the bosses + I will come back to it + ]





Part I, Chapter 2

(10) Nevchehirlian, p. 56 [conversation about unions’ politics, CGT is the name of the union] S1 [. . .] et puis je vais te dire bon si je serais pas d’accord euh je serais pas à la CGT hein + bon tu me tu vas me dire ouais mais euh avec tout tu es d’accord + à la CGT + plus ou moins avec tout je suis d’accord [S1 [. . .] and then I will tell you if I did not agree euh I would not be a CGT member + well you will say yes but euh you agree with everything + at CGT + more or less with everything I do ]

Perrin draws on a theory developed by Roulet (1985: 71) who defines a diaphonic situation as a structure where the speaker “begins by picking up and reinterpreting within his/her own discourse the words of his/her addressee in order to better move on to what s/he wants to say” (my translation). As Perrin (1995: 238) notes, what characterises this situation is not only the fact that the ‘picked up’ lines are those of the addressee (referred to as tu or vous) and not these of a third person, but above all the fact that these discourses appear within an ‘argumentative interaction’, in an immediate context. In other words, the speaker does not report discourses as part of a narrative (past actions independent of the present situation of enunciation) but s/he repeats discourses that the addressee has just uttered or could utter within the present conversation (in an immediate context) in order either to react positively or negatively (9), (10), or to open the conversation more widely and to complete his/her comments (10). Once again here, one does not repeat what already exists but rather one changes contexts and uses the Other’s words in a different way, sometimes even with an opposed meaning to what the Other has or could have said or thought. It is always a construction, never a duplication. The argumentative functions of S&TP are not limited to diaphonic situations where the speaker explicitly links the addressee’s discourse with his/her own. I will speak later about the importance of discourses reported in the first person, whether past or present. Moreover, a speaker can obviously also quote the words of a person other than the addressee and use that as an authoritative quote (see infra). . Relating a discourse to another Should we therefore find a better term than ‘reported’? Peytard (1993) suggests the word relaté, although the French dictionary Robert presents this adjective as a synonym for the word rapporté (in English, the verb ‘to relate’ also means to report, to recount). Furthermore the numerous disputes over the proper term

What is ‘reported discourse’?

for Free Indirect Discourse have amply shown how fruitless discussions on terminology can be (Strauch 1974), especially when some terms have already been in use for a long time. I do not see any problem with the adjective ‘reported’ as long as one fully links it to the meanings of the French verb rapporter (which does not only mean to report but also to relate something to something else) and to the French expression mettre en rapport (to establish a connection, to institute a relation between two things). Used with these meanings, we would understand the adjective ‘reported’ as creating a mise en rapport de discours, to use Rosier ingenious expression (1999: 125), i.e. establishing a connection, a link between two discourses, relating a discourse to another. That interpretation would be in keeping with Bakthin (1986 [1929]: 115) for whom, “reported speech is speech within speech, utterance within utterance, and at the same time also speech about speech, utterance about utterance”. I like the neutrality of the expression ‘speech and thought presentation’ used by Anglo-Saxon linguists like Leech, Short and their team and I prefer it to that of ‘Speech and Thought Representation’ (Chafe 1994), which carries an idea of reproduction.9

. What is covered under the generic term ‘discourse’ ? . Introduction As mentioned in the introduction to this book, I am using the generic term ‘discourse’ to refer to reported speech, thought and writing. In practice, a look at studies using the expression discours rapporté in French or ‘reported speech’ in English, shows how rare it is to find many examples of thought or writing. Even when they explicitly distinguish between reported speech and thought, many works tend in the course of their argument to equate the word discours in French or the supposedly all-encompassing term ‘speech’ in English to actual reported speech, not thought nor writing.10 In the same way, it is relatively easy to find long lists of verbs and expressions presenting S&TP but these are usually verba dicendi (verbs of speaking: to say, to tell, to ask, etc.) and not verba sentiendi (verbs of thinking: to think, to believe, to wonder, etc.) nor verba scribendi (verbs of writing: to write, to print, to note, etc.).11 Occurrences of reported thoughts are often restricted to chapters or articles discussing Free Indirect Discourse but usually there is no mentioning of the differences between free indirect thoughts and free indirect speeches (Coulmas, Li and Fonagy in Coulmas 1986a; Maingueneau 1991b, 1993; Perret 1997).12





Part I, Chapter 2

In the next two sections, I will underscore the specificity of reported thoughts and attitudes by comparison to reported speech and I will introduce the notion of continuum between external speech, inner speech, thoughts and attitudes. Once again, the majority of my examples will come from an oral corpus because spoken language is rarely studied from the point of view of reported thoughts and attitudes. Moreover I will also underline some of the differences existing between spoken conversations and other speech genres such as literary fiction or contemporary written press. The fourth section will briefly look at reported writing and ambiguous discourses. The question of Narrated Discourse will be discussed at length in Chapter 3 of this part. . Verbal and non verbal One important difficulty raised by the study of reported thought is to spot and classify verba sentiendi. Although it is relatively simple to constitute a list of verba dicendi, even for those that are not originally verbs of speaking (e.g. éclater ‘to explode’), it is not the same for verba sentiendi. To give a short example, even verbs like se dire (‘to tell oneself ’) and penser (‘to think’) can not be described in a straightforward way. The first verb can also be used to report ‘external’ speech and the second can refer to a thought or to an attitude (il pense qu’il fera beau = ‘he has the thought that the weather will be nice’ versus ‘he believes that the weather will be nice’).13 Indeed Vincent and Dubois (1997: 10) eliminated verbs such as penser from their field of study because they only wanted to look at reported speech – a decision that did not prevent them from using the generic term ‘reported discourse’. However they did include verbs such as se dire because it relates speech, whether ‘internal’ or ‘external’.14 Vincent and Dubois (1997: 30) also justified their exclusion of penser by saying that, although frequently used in their Spoken French corpus, it never appeared with Direct Discourse and thus (arguably) did not behave like a true ‘communicative verb’ of the se dire type. By this, Vincent and Dubois probably meant that penser does not seem to present thoughts as if they were speakable (i.e. direct [internal] speech).15 Although I found two examples of penser with Direct Discourse in my Spoken French corpus (see Part II, Chapter 1 (7), (11)), Vincent et Dubois’ intuition is probably correct: the verb penser is not usually used to transmit inner speech only. As a matter of fact, the main characteristic of reported thoughts is that, contrary to reported speeches, they do not necessarily refer to entirely verbal phenomena. In a real communicative situation (non fiction), and with our current knowledge of the human brain, it is not possible to truly report other

What is ‘reported discourse’?

people’s thoughts and it is objectively just as impossible to relate our own because what we call ‘thoughts’ are in fact a posteriori (or a priori) verbalisations of mental phenomena that mix verbal with non verbal (feelings, perceptions, etc.). Cohn (1978: 11) and Chafe (1994: 219–223) are very aware of this, noting that the representation of thought could not be entirely parallel to that of speech. Chafe (1994: 219) defines ‘thought’ as “the flow of information through a person’s introverted consciousness” and writes: Since conscious experience can be either non-verbal or verbal, both possibilities need to be taken into account as we consider how a proximal consciousness can verbalise distal thought. Representations of speech always go back to distal language, but representations of thought are less committed in that respect. (Chafe 1994: 219)

. From external speech to internal attitudes: Another continuum Comic strips use different balloons to represent external speech (smooth balloon) and inner speech (cloud) (see Figure 7). We could conceptualise the little drawing in Figure 7, using – rather simplistically – the three basic verbs se dire (‘to say to oneself ’), penser (‘to think’) and croire (‘to believe’) and placing them on a continuum going from pure in-

Il est heureux sans moi

Translation: He is happy without me

Figure 7. Representing reported thought





Part I, Chapter 2

ner speech (se dire) to the expression of an attitude about a specific mental content (croire) (see Figure 8). The diagram in Figure 8 shows the problems one encounters when attempting to classify verba sentiendi in tight categories. The inherent polysemy of these verbs is further influenced by verbal aspect (perfective, imperfective, iterative) and syntax (conjunctive or infinitival clause or nominal group). Thus, Figure 8. From inner speech to attitude Thoughts 


Inner speech = Mental content

 Attitude towards a mental content

←–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––→ – a. Je me dis qu’il est heureux sans moi. h. Je crois qu’il est heureux sans moi [I tell myself/ I say to myself that he is [I believe that he is happy without me.] happy without me.] b. Je me dis : “il est heureux sans moi” [I tell myself / I say to myself: “he is happy without me”]

i. ?Je crois : “il est heureux sans moi” [?I believe: “he is happy without me”.]

c. Je pense : “il est heureux sans moi” [I think : “he is happy without me”] d. *Je me dis de son bonheur sans moi [*I tell / I say to myself about his happiness without me.]

j. Je crois à son bonheur sans moi [I believe in his happiness without me.]

e. Je pense à son bonheur sans moi [I think about his happiness without me.] f. Je me demande s’il est heureux sans moi [I wonder if he is happy without me.] g. Je me fais la réflexion qu’il est heureux sans moi [I reflect to myself that he is happy without me.] ←––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

k. je pense qu’il est heureux sans moi [I think that he is happy without me.]

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––→

l. Chaque fois que je le vois, je pense qu’il est heureux sans moi. [Whenever I see him, I think that he is happy without me.] m. Une fois seule, j’ai pensé qu’il était heureux sans moi et cela m’ a soulagée. [Once on my own, I thought that he was happy without me and it was a relief.] n. Dans l’ensemble, je pense qu’il est heureux sans moi. [On the whole, I think that he is happy without me.]

What is ‘reported discourse’?

in iterative (l) or perfective (m) contexts, the verb penser leans more towards inner speech while in imperfective or durative contexts (n), it inclines towards attitude.16 We could also add the variable of person to the continuum because it would seem that with the third person, we stay more in the realm of inner speech than with the first person. Moreover, it is important to note that while spoken French seldom uses the verb penser to express inner speech (in Direct Discourse or Indirect Discourse), it is not necessarily so in other speech genres. In literary narratives, for example, it is not rare to find utterances like the following:17 (11) La Guerre des Boutons (L. Pergaud, Editions Mercure de France, 1963), p. 230. “Une retenue à Camus, pensait Lebrac. Comme ça tombe bien! On a justement besoin de lui ce soir (. . .)” [“Detention for Camus, thought Lebrac. It could not have come at a better time! Tonight’s just when we need him! (. . .)”] (12) La Guerre des Boutons (L. Pergaud, Editions Mercure de France, 1963), p. 249. – Si je cafardais à mon père? pensa-t-il. [– What if I tell my Dad on them? he thought.] (13) Le Roman de Jehan de Saintré (A. de la Sale, 14th c.), p. 7, ll. 18–21. Mais le povre jouvencel qui ne pensoit pas a ce ou Madame vouloit venir, ly promist et en ce faisant pensoit: “ Las ! et que ay je fait ? Mes que sera ce cy ?” [But the poor young boy who did not realise where Milady was going, gave her his word and while doing so, he thought “Wretched me, what have I done? What will this be?”]

Any attempt at classification is thus obligatorily subjective and contextualized. Moreover, when we speak about the thoughts and attitudes of somebody else or of our own self in the past or in the future, we often interpret what is primarily an external stimuli, i.e. actual speech or body motions, as subsequently reflecting an internal state of mind. If I say elle pense qu’il est heureux sans elle (‘she thinks that he is happy without her’), I can infer the reported thought from the actual speech of the person whom I heard say the very words il est heureux sans moi (‘he is happy without me’), or I can also summarise a whole series of conversations I had with her, or else I can infer it from her behaviour. What I thus call thoughts and attitudes is what is presented as such, i.e. as internal, although it might not necessarily be so: she says that he is happy with-





Part I, Chapter 2

out her but she does not really think so; she acts as if he were happy without her but she does not really think he is. In fiction, narrators can often present their character’s thoughts and attitudes as if these were directly accessible to them (external focalisation from within).18 In some cases, fictional narrators can even completely disappear and let their character’s consciousness unfold in front of readers (internal focalisation). In the press, reported thought are often obviously inferred from spoken declarations:19 (14) Le Monde, 11 July 2002, Procès des pilleurs de châteaux, p. 11 Le représentant du ministère public, Gilbert Emery, est persuadé de pouvoir confondre les membres du réseau: “Les écoutes, les surveillances nous ont apporté des résultats qui dérangent. Alors, on les conteste.” [The prosecuting magistrate, Gilbert Emery, is convinced that the ringmembers can be confounded: “Phonetapping, surveillance brought us disturbing results. Therefore they are being contested.”]

Some linguists such as Vincent and Dubois (see supra) limit their study to anything that pertains to the side of pure inner speech, i.e. to thoughts that behave exactly like spoken words. Others go further and include verbs such as penser (with at times the complex task of keeping uses of penser // se dire while eliminating uses of penser // croire). Rare are those who would consider that verbs such as croire can introduce S&TP. And what should we do with verbs like considérer (‘to consider’), savoir (‘to know’), trouver (‘to think’), juger (‘to judge’), craindre (‘to fear’), etc.? For my own analysis, I have decided to take a maximum of verbs and expressions into account while being very conscious of the problems this categorisation might cause. Within a large number of verba sentiendi and expressions such as à l’idée que (‘at the idea that’) or à mon avis (‘in my opinion’), I have attempted to distinguish between three groups that I THOUGHTS External Speech

Inner Speech = Mental Content

Attitude towards A mental content

Group 1: verbs of speaking Group 2: verbs of thinking Group 3: verbs of attitude

Figure 9. From external speech to attitude

What is ‘reported discourse’?

place at different stages on the continuum external speech ↔ inner speech ↔ attitudes (see Figure 9). Group 1: verbs of speaking in the spoken French corpus:20 accuser ‘to accuse’, affirmer ‘to assert’, ajouter ‘to add’, appeler ‘to call / to phone’, appeler qq à ‘to incite sb to’, apprendre ‘to learn’, assurer ‘to assure’, attraper que ‘to tell off ’, avoir l’ordre de ‘to be ordered to’, avouer ‘to confess’, certifier ‘to certify’, citer ‘to quote’, conclure ‘to conclude’, confirmer ‘to confirm’, conseiller de ‘to advise to’, consentir à ‘to accept to’, constater ‘to notice’, convenir de ‘to admit / to agree on’, crier ‘to scream’, déclarer ‘to declare’, demander ‘to ask’, démontrer ‘to demonstrate’, (se) dire ‘to say to / to tell (oneself)’, entendre ‘to hear’, être prié de ‘to be asked to’, expliquer ‘to explain’, faire ‘to say’,21 faire remarquer ‘to point out’, il paraît ‘apparently / it seems’, indiquer ‘to indicate’, interdire ‘to forbid’, inutile de dire que ‘needless to say that’, inviter à ‘to invite to’, maintenir ‘to maintain’, menacer ‘to threaten’, montrer ‘to show’, nier ‘to deny’, objecter ‘to object’, parler ‘to speak’, partir du principe que ‘to work on the assumption that’, préciser ‘to specify / to add’, prendre l’engagement de ‘to undertake to’, prendre la décision ‘to make the decision to’, prétendre ‘to pretend’, prier de ‘to beg / to ask to’, prouver ‘to prove’, raconter ‘to tell / to say that’, rappeler ‘to remind’, recevoir l’ordre de ‘to be ordered to’, reconnaître ‘to admit’, refuser ‘to refuse’, répéter ‘to repeat’, répondre ‘to answer’, reprocher ‘to reproach’, rouspéter ‘to grumble’, s’appeller ‘to call each other’, s’engager à ‘to promise’, s’engager sur le fait de ‘to take on the commitment to’, saluer ‘to greet’, se dire ‘to tell each other’, se mettre d’accord ‘to come to an agreement’, se plaindre ‘to complain’, se réclamer de ‘to claim to’, se tâter ‘to sound out each other’, sensibiliser qq à ‘to make sb more aware of ’, signaler ‘to point out’, souhait ‘wish’, souhaiter ‘to wish’, souligner ‘to emphasize’, style ‘like’, traiter de ‘to call sb sth’, un bruit qui court que ‘a rumour that’. Group 2: verbs and expressions of thinking in the spoken French corpus à l’idée que ‘at the idea that’, à mon avis ‘in my opinion’, à mon sens ‘in my opinion’, avoir l’idée de ‘to plan to’, penser ‘to think’, se demander ‘to wonder’, dire ‘to say’, (se) dire ‘to say to / to tell (oneself)’, considérer ‘to consider’, estimer ‘to feel / to think’, juger ‘to judge’, constater ‘to notice’, (s’) imaginer ‘to imagine / to picture’, réaliser ‘to realize’, réfléchir ‘to think’, remarquer ‘to notice’, sembler à qq que ‘to seem to sb that’, se rappeler ‘to remember’, trouver ‘to think / to feel’, venir à l’idée ‘to come to mind’. Group 3: verbs of attitude in the spoken French corpus apprendre ‘to learn’, avoir envie ‘to want / to desire’, avoir l’impression ‘to have the feeling’, avoir peur ‘to be afraid’, chercher à comprendre ‘to try to understand’, comprendre ‘to understand’, compter ‘to plan’, convaincre ‘to convince’, craindre ‘to fear’, croire ‘to believe’, décider de/ que ‘to decide to/that’, décider





Part I, Chapter 2

qq à ‘to persuade sb to’, (être) ennuyé ‘(to feel) embarrassed / bad’, espérer ‘to hope’, être assuré que ‘to be sure that’, être certain ‘to be certain that’, être d’accord ‘to agree on’, être persuadé ‘to be convinced’, être sûr que ‘to be sure that’, faire croire ‘to pretend’, mon but c’était de ‘my goal was to’, ne pas douter de ‘to be in no doubt about’, oublier ‘to forget’, penser ‘to believe’, préférer ‘to prefer’, reconnaître ‘to acknowledge / to recognise’, regretter ‘to regret’, s’apercevoir ‘to notice / to realize’, se rendre compte ‘to realize’, savoir ‘to know’, vouloir ‘to want’, supposer ‘to suppose’.

Verbs and expressions in Group 2 lean toward inner speech because they are more centred on the mental content (found in completive or infinitival clauses) while those in group 3 give more importance to the attitudes (belief, emotion, hypothesis,. . .) expressed about that mental content through verba sentiendi. One will notice of course that these three groups partly overlap, which is indicated by the arrows in Figure 9.22 Indeed the corpus analysis shows that verbs like constater (‘to notice’) and se dire (‘to tell oneself ’) can be found in groups 1 and 2 while verbs like reconnaître (‘to admit’), apprendre (‘to learn’), décider (‘to decide’) are common to groups 1 and 3. This overlap might be due to the fact that a verb may have different meanings, depending on the context and/or the co-text. For example, the verb apprendre means to hear / learn something (15), (16) but also to tell someone (17), two interpretations that can be linked to reported speech, as is summarised in the expression ces dires (‘these words’) in (15). Notice the specific syntax: il apprend par (‘he learns through’) in (15), the generic on apprend (‘we learn / one learns’) in (16) and the use of the indirect objects à Claire (‘to Claire’) and m’ (‘me’) in (17). (15) Tscharner, p. 33 [mock trial at a law school, defense attorney speaking] + il apprend par les personnes présentes dans l’établissement + que Régine Cymbaliste doit se marier ce jour + comme pour confirmer ces dires + peu de temps après + un cortège se forme dans la rue + [+ he learns through people present on the premises + that Régine Cymbaliste is getting married on that day + as if to confirm these words + soon after + a procession is formed in the street +] (16) Tscharner, p. 29 [mock trial at a law school, defense attorney speaking] + et demande la main de Régine à sa mère + il entreprend la démarche que tout homme bien élevé aurait fait + seulement + malgré son célibat + on apprend que mon client est père d’un enfant triste part + il est prié alors de cesser toute relation avec Régine + [+ and asks Regine’s mother for her hand + he takes the step that any gentleman would have taken + however + despite his single status + we

What is ‘reported discourse’?

learn that my client is the father of a child sad story + he is then asked to break off all contact with Régine + ] (17) Balboa, p. 6 [young man reminisces about his experience as an exchange student in Spain] + et puis sur ce + euh Isabel appelle et /et, elle/ m’ apprend apprend à Claire et m’apprend en même temps ++ que que l’accord euh l’accord Erasmus n’ est pas passé + alors là j’ai commencé à avoir vraiment des regrets ++ [+ and then upon which + euh Isabel calls and she tells me tells Claire and tells me at the same time ++ that that the agreement euh the Erasmus agreement did not go through + and then I really started having regrets ++]

Example (18) below presents a third interpretation, apprendre ‘to learn’, that is referring to a state of mind, an attitude rather than external speech (this is accentuated by verbs such as vous comprenez ‘you understand’ and vous vous dites ‘you tell yourself ’). (18) Chervet, p. 16 [in an interview, a lawyer describes his conversations with an arsonist’s parents] et puis ils me racontent à travers divers entretiens leur(s) vie(s) / et, ø/ vous apprenez beaucoup de choses en les écoutant ++ vous apprenez dans quelle(s) condition(s) l’enfant est né vous apprenez que ils désiraient une fille pour ce pyromane que c’était tellement vrai qu’ils l’ont appelé Eliane ++ un garçon euh vous apprenez qu’il y a une différence d’âge entre les parents de plus de vingt ans vous apprenez tant– et tant de choses que à la fin vous comprenez et vous vous dites il pouvait pas faire autre chose que d’être pyromane ++ eu égard à à son passé [and then they tell me their lives in the course of several conversations and you learn many things listening to them ++ you learn in which conditions the child was born you learn that they wanted a daughter for that arsonist that it was so true that they called him Eliane ++ a boy euh you learn that there is more than a twenty year age difference between the parents you learn so many- and so many things that in the end you understand and you tell yourself that he could not do anything else than becoming an arsonist ++ given his past]

In examples (19)–(21) below, the verb reconnaître ‘to admit’ can also be interpreted as referring to external speech, i.e. ‘to declare’ and/or to a specific





Part I, Chapter 2

attitude, i.e. ‘to acknowledge’ (this is reinforced by the use of the first person and the present tense in (21)): (19) Tscharner, p. 51 [mock trial at the law school, defense attorney speaking] il modifie plus d’un an après le drame + ses premières allégations + en reconnaissant qu’il n’avait pu voir Leduc passer rue des Phocéens + car les rideaux en bois était bien fermés + mais + pour ne pas trop se désavouer + il maintient cependant + l’avoir vu tourner à droite + lors de sa sortie du bar rue François Moisson + [he changes more than one year after the tragedy + his first allegations + admitting that he could not have seen Leduc passing by the Phoceens Street + since the wooden shutters were closed + but in order not to deny everything + + he maintains however + that he saw him turn right + when he left the bar on the François Moisson Street + ] (20) Giovannoni, p. 67 [woman speaks about uprisings in the jail where her son is an inmate] c’est + tout le monde a reconnu après + les révoltes que c’était . inhumain + [it is + everybody acknowledged after + the uprisings that it was inhumane +] (21) Tcharner, pp. 54–55 [mock trial at the law school, defense attorney speaking] je reconnais que vingt-et-une heure trente + est une heure de rentrée qui convient fort bien à la thèse de l’accusation + [I acknowledge that half past nine + is a time of re-entry that is very convenient for the prosecution’s thesis +]

This is linked to the fact that we often present actual speech as subsequently reflecting an internal state of mind (see supra). Finally, if attitudes can be seen as constituting a type of S&TP, one could wonder whether the same should be true for perceptions. This is because, as Rabatel (2003, 2004) cleverly notes, perceptions are often related to mental events, i.e. they constitute sources for mental/attitudinal events. Speaking about psycho-narration (a category encompassing what I call Indirect and Narrated Thoughts and Attitudes), Cohn (1978: 49) also writes that It would be a futile exercise to delimit psycho-narration from the narration of sensations that impinge on a character’s mind, from within or from without. [. . .] When they are introduced by perception verbs, the sights a character sees

What is ‘reported discourse’?

and the sounds he hears link psyche and scene, and psycho-narration can then no longer be clearly differentiated from scenic description.

Giving the example of the verb ‘to see’, Cohn (1978: 50) also points to the fact that “purely imaginary perceptions by day- or night-dreaming minds are sometimes introduced by the identical phrases that signal a character’s perception of the surrounding world”. Fludernik (1991: 305–9) proposes a category called ‘Narrated Perception’ but without ascribing a specific syntactic form to it: One part of consciousness which may or may not be fully articulated in terms of verbalization consists in visual, aural, gustatory or tactile perception. Perception itself is generally taken to be non-verbal, ‘non reflective’ – as Banfield calls it – although it can give rise to thought processes and emotions, even to exclamatory sentences.

However, Short et al. (1996), also speaking about Narrated Discourse, take a more simple approach, writing that Clearly, NI [narration of internal states] lies at the interface between narration and thought presentation. (. . .) In order for an internal report to qualify as NI, it needs to focus on cognitive or emotional experiences. In other words, NI does not include reports of characters’ perceptions, whether the stimuli are internal (‘She felt a pain in her stomach’) or external (‘She felt the softness of his hair’). These would be coded as narration. (Italics from Short et al. 1996: 110–131).

It is easier to understand these points based on real examples using obvious verbs of perceptions such as voir (‘to see’) and sentir (‘to feel’) (see boxes): (22) Selin, pp. 3–4 [a young woman describes how she was nearly run over by a car] non j’avais pas trop bu non j’ai j’ai vu la voiture je l’ai vue mais si je l’ai vue elle était blanche hein JE M’EN RAPPELLE c’était mais je veux dire si je l’ai vue je me suis arrêtée si j’avais p- en fait c’est parce que j’ai glissé + je me suis arrêtée je l’ai j’ai glissé bon j’ai des souliers qui glissent un peu + et j’ai glissé et mh bon là j’ai pas eu le temps de RÉALISER quoi je me suis vu la voiture dessus + et euh le seul truc que je pouvais faire c’était c’était la seule chose qui m’est venue à l’idée c’est qu’il fallait pas que je passe sous la voiture quoi j’ai vu les roues j’ai vu le dessous de la voiture j’ai vu je me suis vue carrément écrasée et hum + il fallait à tout prix que que je m’enlève de dessous quoi donc j’ai eu le seul ré- le seul réflexe ou l’instinct parce qu’en fait JE SAIS PAS je sais pas si c’est s- si j’ai eu le temps même d’y RÉFLÉCHIR mais euh j’ai r- j’ai enlevé mes jambes quoi+ [No I had not drunk too much no I I saw the car I saw it yes I saw it





Part I, Chapter 2

it was white hein I REMEMBER it it was but I mean if I saw it I stopped actually it is because I slipped + I stopped + I I slipped well my shoes are a bit slippery + I slipped and well there I did not have time to REALIZE I saw the car running me over + and euh the only thing I could do the only thing that came to my mind is that I should not get under the car so I saw the wheels I saw underneath the car I saw I saw myself completely run over and hum + I had to remove myself from under there at all costs so I had the only reflex or the instinct because actually I DON’T KNOW I don’t know whether I even had any time TO THINK about it but euh I moved my legs away +] (23) Selin, p. 6 [a young woman describes how she was nearly run over by a car] et euh j’ai senti aussi que la portière s’ouvrait au-dessus de moi donc euh bon de toute façon j’avais pas du tout l’idée de me relever parce que j’ai même pas réalisé que j’étais couchée quoi+et euh [and euh I also felt that the door was opening above me so euh in any case I did not think about getting up because I did not even realize that I was lying down + and euh] (24) Giovannoni, p. 87 [woman speaks about uprisings in the jail where her son is an inmate] le mercredi il m’a dit on a très bien senti qu’il s’était passé quelque chose parce que + on est venu nous chercher dans les mêmes conditions que les autres + [on Wednesday he said to me we really felt that something had happened because + they came to pick us up in the same way as for the others]

While some occurrences of voir and sentir are obviously just reporting physical sensations (to see a car, to feel the door of the car opening), others are definitely not. ‘To see’ can be interpreted as imagining, visioning an event that does not happen (to see oneself run over (22)) and ‘to feel’ can be understood as realising that something has happened or is happening (to feel that something had happened (24)). So, can S&TP refer to perceptions? There are two solutions. Either one decides, like Leech, Short and their team, that verbs like ‘to see’ and ‘to feel’ primarily describe perceptions and that different interpretations are only secondary, derived from their core meanings. This means that one would exclude all occurrences of these verbs from any listing of S&TP (be it Indirect Discourses or Narrated Discourses). The second is to include occurrences that are more than just descriptions of perceptions. Some occurrences would then be

What is ‘reported discourse’?

considered as Narrated Discourses (without any completive or infinitival clause (22)) and others as Indirect Discourses (with such a clause (22), (24)).23 However this inclusive solution leaves us with many subjective choices, a task that is not impossible but certainly difficult. Whatever similarities there might be, the problem is not akin to that of the distinction between thoughts and attitudes since in that case, there is no doubt in my mind that reported attitudes always imply a mental content while perceptions clearly do not: to see a car, to feel the wind do not necessarily imply a mental representation. So the problem raised by the distinction between thoughts and attitudes is one of porous boundaries within the domain of reported discourse while the distinction between thoughts/perception with a mental representation and perceptions without a mental representation (internal or external) entails a choice between what is reported discourse and what is not. I have thus chosen to exclude perceptions from my corpus, except for examples such as (22), (24) in contexts where verbs like voir and sentir must be interpreted respectively as ‘to imagine, to picture’ and ‘to realize’. In these cases, I see them as attitudes. Rabatel (2001, 2003, 2004) makes a different choice and speaks of perceptions as being another possible type of what he calls ‘represented discourse’ (instead of reported discourse). He thus distinguishes between Direct Perception, Indirect Perception, Free Indirect Perception and Narrated Perception, which is of course a very logical step. Luckily, the problems that could arise from the subjectivity of my classification should not compromise the overall analysis since in the present book, I will mostly examine the strategic differences existing between ‘external’ speech on the one hand and thought/attitude on the other. Group 3 (attitudes) will thus generally strengthen the results given by Group 2 (thoughts) (also see Part I, Chapter 3 and Part II, Chapter 1). . Other types of reported discourse Other than speech and thought/attitudes, speakers can also report written discourses, i.e. words they have written themselves or read somewhere. (25) Mousset, p. 23 [speaker’s sister in law would like to use the same company shuttle as she does] et non elle a pas de moyen de locomotion + alors là mon frère il est allé voir le maire et il a fait une lettre à la ZOZO en demandant si quand même il(s) pouvait(ent) la prendre qu’elle payerait parce qu’il y a + une assurance à payer un truc comme ça + qu’elle payerait ce /qui, qu’il/ faudrait + mais





Part I, Chapter 2

enfin qui + -s’il(s) pouvai(en)t la mener + alors on attend la réponse [no she does not have any means of transport + so then my brother went to see the mayor and he wrote a letter to the ZOZO asking whether after all they could take her that she would pay because there is + some insurance to pay something like that + that she would pay what is needed but whether they could transport her + so we are waiting for the answer] (26) Mousset, p. 91 [conversation between friends] sur les journaux ils avaient dit que c’était un suicide maintenant si il y a eu quelque chose[in the papers they said that it was a suicide now if there was something-]

While writing presentation is relatively sparse in informal conversations and literary discourses, it is very well represented in journalistic or academic discourse, whether spoken or written. To my knowledge, Leech, Short and their team are amongst the only linguists having devoted special attention to writing presentation as a specific type, which they study in a written corpus comprising press articles as well as excerpts of (auto)biographies and novels (Short et al. 2002). That this type should be studied separately from speech and thought presentation is clear since we will see that it is linked to different strategies, notably in terms of faithfulness and argumentative contexts (see Part II, Chapter 1, Section 2.5). Finally, some reported discourses resist categorisation into specific types. Some of these ‘ambiguous discourses’ hesitate between speech and thought (27)–(29) and others hover between speech and writing (30). (27) Nevchehirlian, p. 12 [conversation about unions’ politics] alors euh les ouvriers ils se disent tiens euh il le fait à côté ++ pour l’instant il ne nous touche pas + alors il y a pas . un une masse d’ensemble tu vois et euh on fait pas grève nous + [so euh the workers tell themselves / tell each others well euh he does it next door ++ right now he does not hit us + so there is no cohesive mass you see and euh we are not on strike + ] (28) Tscharner, p. 25 [Mock trial: the lawyer describes his client’s life] il veut se rendre utile et ne pas paraître désoeuvré + il fait le voeu de devenir quelqu’un + malgré tous les affrontements et toutes les humiliations qu’il peut subir ++ [he wants to make himself useful and not to look like a person at a loose end + he vows to become somebody + despite all the confrontations and the humiliations he is enduring +]

What is ‘reported discourse’?

(29) Franke, pp. 56–7 [alcoholic describing his relapse] quelquefois je pense je dis non non non non non j’y vais pas j’y vais pas j’y vais + on dirait que mes pieds m’y emmènent c’est c’est c’est incroyable c’est + c’est s- + c’est plus fort que ++ alors oui les les tr- les trois premiers jours bof euh + bof qu’est-ce que j’ai à X foutre de ça et patati et patata + ça /n’a, a/ pas marché ça /n’a, a/ pas marché [sometimes I think I say no no no no no I am not going I am not going I go + it is as if my feet are taking me there it is it is it is unbelievable it is + it’s stronger than ++ so yes the three first days well euh + so what what do I care about this and so on and so forth + it didn’t work it did not work] (30) Giovannoni, p. 64 [woman speaks about uprisings in the jail where her son is an inmate] + je sais + que j’avais relevé un journal + je crois que c’est dans le Provençal + heu + une photo qui avait . été prise pendant + qu’ils étaient sur le toit où ils brandissaient sur une banderole donc qui devait . être en drap de lit + ils avaient . écrit + on demande + une commission d’enquête + de la Ligue des Droits de l’Homme /donc heu, donc/ + c’était + c’était le cri + ils demandaient . une commission d’enquête [+ I know + that I noticed a newspaper + I think that it is in The Provençal + a picture that was taken while + they were on the roof where they were brandishing a banner that must have been made of bed sheets + they had written + we demand an investigation from the human right society so + it was it was their cry they were asking for an investigation]

As we have seen supra, the hesitation between speech and thought might be due to the difficulty to distinguish between external stimuli, i.e. actual speech or body motions, and the subsequent reflection of an internal state of mind. In the case of the verb se dire (27), we are dealing with the possibility of a double meaning: reflexive meaning (to say to oneself) or reciprocal meaning (to tell one another). In most cases, ambiguity arises from the lack of a specific verbum sentiendi or scribendi. These discourses often take the form of Free Direct or Free Indirect Discourses ((29), (30), see Section 3 in Part II, Chapter 1).





Part I, Chapter 2

. Does ‘reported discourse’ only mean ‘discourse of the other(s)’? . Introduction Many studies on S&TP do not mention explicitly the possibility that a firstperson locutor might relate his/her own discourse. Some scholars repeatedly use expressions such as ‘the discourse of the Other’ (le discours d’autrui) and do not offer any example of discourse reported in the first person (Coulmas 1986b: 21; Li 1986: 42; Peytard 1993: 31). Others do present such examples but without paying any particular attention to them (Fonagy 1986; Leech, Short and their team). Some approaches are also slightly contradictory. Mochet (1993a: 132), for example, underlines the ‘constitutive heterogeneity’ of reported discourses in her corpus but several of her occurrences are in the first person (some in the indicative present). Rosier also insists on viewing reported discourse as dit d’autrui (‘what the Other says’) and she explains why (1999: 140, 198) but she still quotes several examples in the first person (mostly in the past). Only a minority of linguists explicitly accept the use of first person, usually for the reporting of past discourses (Cohn 1978; Chafe 1994; Maingueneau 1993; Perrin 1997, 2000a, b; Sihvonen-Hautecoeur 1993, 1996; Verschoor 1959; Vincent & Dubois 1996, 1997). Moreover Chafe (1994: 218, 220) and Vincent and Dubois (1996, 1997) offer several occurrences of Direct and Indirect Discourses with verba dicendi in the first person and in the historical present. Here are a few unproblematic examples of reported discourses in the first person found in the Modern Spoken French corpus: (31) Barallier, p. 135–6 [middle-aged women chat, reminiscing about their childhood and their youth] S7 oui ça c’est la réflexion que mon mari l’autre jour il a dit à parce que + R. le samedi soir elle sort elle sort ++ elle travaille toute la semaine + je dis c’est normal qu’elle sorte ++ il dit s- m- mais il est déjà dix heures et demie mais tu mais tu t’en vas pas elle dit oui mais les boîtes aujourd’hui maintenant elles commencent à onze heures + elles commencent pas avant ++ elle dit oh là là à onze heures + mais de mon temps on était déjà en train de danser S2 on rentrait déjà S5 je comprends minuit c’était le XX S7 XXX six heures cinq heures du matin eh + je dis tant pis eh tu comtu comprends je dis quoi elle a vingt quatre ans tu la laisses ++ c’est pour ça que tout à l’heure je riais + vingt quatre ans je dis quand

What is ‘reported discourse’?

[S7

S2 S5 S7

même + elle travaille toute la semaine + je dis c’est normal qu’elle sorte laisse-la ++ que tu veuilles /ou, ø/ que tu veuilles pas elle \ sortira quand même alors yes that’s the reflection that my husband the other day he said to because + R. on Saturday night she goes out she goes out ++ she works the whole week + I say it’s normal that she goes out ++ he says but it is already half past ten but you but you are not going she says yes but nightclubs nowadays they open at eleven + they don’t open before ++ she says woaw at eleven o’clock + but back in my day we would already be dancing we would already be going home I understand midnight it was XXX XXX six five in the morning eh + I say too bad eh you understand I say well she is twenty four let her ++ that’s why I was laughing earlier on + twenty four I say after all + she works the whole week + I say it is normal that she goes out let her do so ++ whether you want it or not she will go out anyway so]

(32) Barallier, p. 65 [middle aged women chat, reminiscing about their childhood and their youth] + et je me dis toujours que ça ++ c’était mes racines italiennes + [+ and I always say to myself that those ++ those were my Italian roots +]

It is thus obvious that reported discourse is not necessarily the ‘discourse of the Other’ (discours d’autrui) but that it can also be the discourse of the Self (discours du je), whether past or virtual. This does not endanger the principle of heterogeneity because what is other in these examples is the enunciative situation of the quoted discourse: space and time are past (31) or virtual (32). In the case of verba dicendi in the historical present (31), the speaker presents the quoted utterances as contemporaneous of his/her own enunciative situation, which brings life to the narrative and involves the addressee (Chafe 1994: 218). . Performative and attitudinal expressions The question asked in the title of the present section is nevertheless still relevant. What should be done with the following examples? (33) Ruffini, p. 13 [young woman reminiscing about her training at the teachers college] alors je le dis bien fort la formation à l’école normale c’est nul + [so I say it very loudly the training at the teachers college is useless +]





Part I, Chapter 2

(34) Barallier, p. 81 [middle-aged women chat reminiscing about their childhood and their youth] + et + moi je le dis physiquement + j’ai toujours trouvé ma mère belle euh peut-être qu’elle l’était pas pour les autres + comme vous disiez + mais pour moi oui j’ai trouvé qu’elle était belle [+ and + I say it physically + I always felt that my mother was beautiful euh maybe she was not in the others’ eyes but for me yes I felt that she was beautiful] (35) Mousset, pp. 77–8 [conversation between friends] Moi je dis qu’ils auraient mieux fait de + de faire faire les routes l’assainissement et l’eau puis les les maisons heu + les faire par exemple eux-même quoi+ [As for me, I say that they would have been better of if they had got the streets the cleaning up and the water system done before for example making the houses themselves + ] (36) Lefebvre, p. 4 [radioshow with singer Leo Ferré as guest; his friend wishes him well] Et alors moi je lui souhaite des musiques et des poètes et des des et des des une X très riche et puis que tous les gens qui qui l’aiment qui sont autour de lui comme ça et que les les sa cigarette ait toujours bon goût et que et qu’il sache qu’il a quelque part comme ça un X copain sur lequel il peut compter sur lequel il peut téléphoner comme ça en disant voilà j’ai besoin de toi je peux pas te dire pourquoi arrive et le copain arrive et ça c’est for c’est ça la vraie richesse voilà ce que je souhaite à Léo [And so I wish him music and poets and a very rich X and then that all the people who love him be around him like that and for his cigarette always to taste good and for him to know that he has somewhere like that a friend which he can rely on whom he can call like that saying here I need you I can not tell you come why and then the friend comes and that’s wonder that’s true richness that’s what I wish Leo]

Examples (33)–(36) above contain verba dicendi in the first person and in the present tense, which do not refer to a past situation, nor a virtual one. In their corpus of Spoken French, Vincent and Dubois (1997: 120) found 47% of reported discourses where the locutor was also the enunciator (in the past, present or future tenses). Amongst these cases, 12% are of the same type as the above examples, i.e. they are what Vincent and Dubois (1996, 1997 and see supra) call ‘assertions’ (1996: 366–7):

What is ‘reported discourse’?

Utterances in our last category of use are most distant from those usually covered by the term ‘reported speech’. The quoted speech always corresponds to an utterance in the present and the utterer is always the speaker je (I) or a collective utterer including je (I). There are no past event, no indications of reproduction, and no context other than that of the interactive event in progress between the interviewer and the interviewee. In fact, if the reporting verb and any other indication of reported speech are removed, the utterance is integrated perfectly, most often as an argument into the discourse in progress. (. . .) [Here we] reach the limit of the locutionary act of ‘saying’. The speaker actually assumes responsibility for what he is saying (prendre en charge), but, by presenting it as reported speech, gives it added emphasis.

Vincent and Dubois’ approach is thus exceptional: not only do they acknowledge the fact that reported discourse entails strategies of speech presentation and not mainly of speech reproduction (see supra) but they also insist on the fact that first-person speakers are very often quoting themselves both in narrative and argumentative contexts. It is also important to note that they present assertions as using a prototypical form (that of reported discourse) in order to convey a specific argumentative strategy. Others linguists reject occurrences such as (33)–(36), arguing that they are performative expressions (Bruña-Cuevas 1996: 38; Leech et al. 1997: 99), illocutionary forms (Mochet 1993a: 124) or redundant expressions with a mere argumentative function (Rosier 1999: 198).24 For these linguists, when uttering je te dis que c’est vrai (‘I am telling you that it is true’), one does not report one’s own discourse in the way one does by saying je t’ai dit que c’était vrai (‘I told you that it was true’) since the completive clause is subordinated to a performative verb; which means that one realises the action of telling (saying) by uttering ‘I am telling you’ thereby reinforcing the assertion that could be made through the simple ‘it is true’ uttered by the same locutor. In short, these linguists consider the performative utterance as a simple reinforcement of the assertion c’est vrai and not as reported discourse (Rosier (1999: 198) speaks of redundancy). Moreover, for them, if the verb dire is used performatively (which I do not deny), it cannot be a verbum dicendi as well (also see Leech et al. 1997: 99). In other words, an utterance cannot both convey a speech act (here an assertion) and describe it at the same time. However, in my opinion, this is exactly what a performative expression is about since contrary to a simple utterance (C’est vrai), it allows the locutor both to refer to a speech act (thus describing it) and to perform it (by virtue of describing it).25 In short, I think that Je te dis que c’est vrai expresses two different things: a speech act and the staging of that





Part I, Chapter 2

speech act. But if one utters only C’est vrai, one only realises a singular speech act (assertion). I have just shown that expressions such as je dis que (‘I say that’) or je souhaite que (‘I wish that’) express speech acts ((33) to (36)). One can also find expressions such as je pense (‘I think’), je crois (‘I believe’), je me demande (‘I wonder’), je me dis (‘I tell myself ’), which some linguists call ‘descriptions of thought acts’ but which do not necessarily function in the same way as the previous ones:26 (37) Barallier, p. 10 [middle-aged women chat reminiscing about their childhood and their youth] non mais je crois que l’intérêt c’est de dire les choses euh comme on les a vécues [no but I think that what is of interest is to say things as we lived them ] (38) Nevchehirlian, p. 9 [conversation about unions’ politics] ++ moi je pense comme ça il y en a il y a un camarade qui s’appelle Jean et qui pense pas comme moi + qu’il est à côté + par rapport aux étudiants + moi je pense que si les étudiants ils continuent comme qu’ils continuent comme ça ils aboutiront bon Jean lui pense autrement il dit que ça va se s’effri- s’effri- s’effriter + parce que les partis surtout le Parti Socialiste il + il veut le prendre de son côté [++ I think like that there is there is a comrade whose name is Jean and who does not think like I do + he is next door + regarding the students + I think that if the students continue like that they will succeed well as for Jean he thinks differently he says that it [the movement] will wear out + because the [political] parties especially the Socialist Party + they want to hijack it (39) Giovannoni, pp. 24–25 [woman speaks about uprisings in the jail where her son is an inmate] Je me demande pourquoi l’administration pénitentiaire ne serait pas + contrôlée + à ce niveau. [I wonder why the prison administration should not be controlled at that level] (40) Barallier, p. 16 [middle-aged women chat reminiscing about their childhood and their youth] maintenant je me dis c’était très ++ c’était anormal cette cette cette attitude là eh +

What is ‘reported discourse’?

[now I say to myself it was very ++ it was not normal that that that attitude in question ]

With the possible exception of je me dis (‘I tell myself ’) and of certain occurrences of je pense (‘I think’), these are mostly attitudinal verbs which entail both verbal and non-verbal elements (see previous section). Indeed, one does not perform the act of thinking when saying je pense que c’est vrai (‘I think that it is true’), nor the act of believing when saying je crois que c’est vrai (‘I believe that it is true’) while one does accomplish the act of command when saying je commande qu’il vienne (‘I order for him to come’). Contrary to a speech act, a thought act can not be realised through language; it can only be described through it. As we have seen above, few linguists would consider attitudinal verbs as introducing reported discourse (whether or not they are in the first or third person). The ones who do take them into account would most probably interpret examples (37)–(40) as modal expressions only, i.e. as markers expressing the attitude of the locutor about the propositional content of the completive clause, but not as reported discourses. For them, modal expressions such as je pense que or je crois que create redundancy in a way parallel to the way the performative verb adds redundancy to the propositional content P in je dis que P (‘I say that P’).27 However, as with performative expressions, there is no reason why a modal verb could not at the same time be a verbum dicendi or a verbum sentiendi. Again, my own view is that they can be both and that, if the ‘reporting’ function was taken over by the modal use of the verbum dicendi/sentiendi, it is nonetheless the primary core meaning carried by these verbs. At this stage, it is useful to introduce Ducrot’s distinction within the notion of locutor (1984: 199) of two further discursive entities: 1. Locutor-L: Locutor qua locutor (seen only in his capacity as an entity responsible for the utterance) 2. Locutor-λ: Locutor qua person of the world which has, amongst other characteristics, that of being at the origin of the utterance On the one hand, a person who says “Honestly, I don’t want to go” presents her enunciation and, therefore, herself in her capacity as locutor, as frank and honest. On the other hand, if the aforementioned person says “I am a very frank person”, she is not suggesting anything about the quality of her enunciation or of herself as the locutor of that particular utterance (locutor-L) but is, rather, assigning a certain quality to herself in general, as a person of the world who also happens to be the locutor of that utterance (locutor-λ). This





Part I, Chapter 2

is why we can have an utterance such as: “I don’t often say what I think but frankly this is outrageous”, where the first part refers to the locutor-λ as not usually forthright but to the locutor-L as particularly honest in the case of that specific enunciation. If one were to apply this perspective to our performative and modal examples, one would notice that the utterance C’est vrai does not say anything about locutor-L nor locutor-λ. The utterances Je t’ai dit que c’était vrai and j’ai pensé que c’était vrai (“I told you that it was true” and “I thought that it was true”) describe the actions of locutor-λ(qua person of the world) who, in a previous situation was the enunciator of the utterance C’est vrai. Finally in Je te dis que c’est vrai and je pense que c’est vrai (“I am telling you that it is true” and “I think that it is true”), the pronoun je refers both to locutor-L, locutor-λ and the enunciator. In my eyes, this last utterance is thus not redundant with regards to C’est vrai since it gives more information than the simple utterance. It puts je on stage by explicitly insisting upon the three roles it has been assigned to.28 Incidentally, Thompson (1996: 507–508) seems to agree with me on that point and, interestingly, he uses a framework quite similar to Ducrot’s: Performatives such as ‘I promise’ and explicit subjective modality markers such as ‘I think’ clearly function chiefly as interpersonal tags, labelling for the hearer the kind of speech act being performed, or the degree of conviction with which the speaker is advancing the proposition or proposal. However, they can still be seen as language reports (albeit in the fuzzy region where reporting merges into other areas such as modality). In such cases, speakers divide themselves as it were into two: a labeller and an utterer, with the labeller presenting – i.e. reporting – the utterer’s proposition. Of course phrases such as ‘I promise’ and especially ‘I think’ have now become so conventionalized that the link with reporting is fairly weak; but it is clearly not accidental that they derive from lexico-grammatical configurations whose main purpose is to report language. We can understand better how they mean what they do if we include in the explanation the perspective that comes from seeing them as language reports.

So far I have used fairly simple arguments in order to vouch for the inherent ‘reported discourse’ quality of performative and attitudinal expressions. In the rest of this section I will call upon two more theoretical approaches in order to justify my point of view, those of Ducrot and Perrin. Ducrot (1980a: 85–92; 1984: 127–148, 201–3) denounces what he calls the ‘performative illusion’, i.e. the belief that the verb in the present tense and in the first person of a performative expression describes the act accomplished by the whole utterance. He prefers to consider performative expressions as

What is ‘reported discourse’?

the result of a diachronic evolution. First, verbs such as ordonner, souhaiter, permettre have a purely descriptive meaning: ‘to order’ (in the sense of to arrange, to dispose), ‘to wish’ (to want, to desire), ‘to allow’ (to let somebody free to do something). Second these verbs are used in the first person and with the indicative present. From their descriptive meaning (where je refers to locutor-λ), these expressions then progressively become formulae j’ordonne que (‘I order/command that’), je souhaite que (‘I make the wish that’), je permets que (‘I authorise that’) uttered in special situations. These formulae are performative since by saying j’ordonne que, je souhaite que, je permets que, the locutor-L performs certain specific illocutionary acts. At that point, the je still refers to the locutor qua person λ but it now also shows the locutor qua locutor L taking charge for the enunciation. A third stage allows to describe in the third person what somebody does when saying j’ordonne que, je souhaite que, je permets que. In these new descriptive utterances: il a ordonné que (‘he ordered that’), il a souhaité que (‘he made the wish that’), il a permis que (‘he authorised that’), the verbs have a different meaning than they had at the first stage. For example, souhaiter does not mean only ‘to wish=to desire’ but also to do what one does when saying je souhaite que (‘I wish that’). What is important here is 1) that there is an original descriptive meaning and a final one; 2) that Ducrot states that locutor-L and locutor-λ are involved in the performative expressions. Ducrot does not mention the performative expression je dis (‘I say’) in his work but if he did, he would undoubtedly see its original descriptive meaning as having to do with some sort of reported discourse. And we can certainly say the same for je souhaite que since ‘to desire’ implies a certain mental state (reported thought/attitude). And so forth for je pense (‘I think’), je me dis (‘I tell myself ’) and je crois (‘I believe’), which are often used in my spoken French corpus.29 Ducrot also explains that some performative expressions have lost their original descriptive meaning. For example, one does not remember that the formula Adieu! (‘Goodbye!’) originally came from [je vous recommande] à Dieu! (‘[I commend you] to God’). Note that if one were to describe in the third person what one does when saying je te dis que c’est vrai (‘I am telling you that it is true’) or je pense que c’est vrai (‘I think that it is true’), it would not be entirely accurate simply to say il a dit que c’était vrai (‘he said that it was true’) or il a pensé que c’était vrai (‘he thought that it was true’) like one would say il a souhaité que ce soit vrai (‘he made the wish that it might be true’); It would be more correct to say il m’a affirmé que c’était vrai (‘he assured me it was true’) and il m’a dit qu’il pensait que c’était vrai (‘he told me that he thought it was true’). In other words, these verbs have not quite reached a third





Part I, Chapter 2

stage yet. It also goes on to show that performative and attitudinal expressions are not simply redundant! Perrin (1996, 1997, 2000a) and Perrin & Vincent (1997) also use the notions of locutor qua locutor and locutor qua person in the world in order to differentiate what they call metadiscursive clauses (je t’ai dit que c’était vrai) from reflexive clauses (je te dis que c’est vrai):

1. Metadiscursive clauses describe the discourse expressed in the completive as an object which is attributed to a certain individual (either the locutor qua person in the world or another person) and is thus reproduced as an ‘echo’ inserted in the quoting discourse. As such, the discourse-object is independent of the locutor qua locutor. Metadiscursive clauses describe a propositional content (somebody says P) and can be given truth-values. For example, je t’ai dit que c’était vrai (‘I told you that it was true’) and il t’a dit que c’était vrai (‘he told you that it was true) can be followed by ‘no you never said that’ or ‘no he never said that’. 2. Reflexive clauses qualify the illocutionary act accomplished by the locutor qua locutor or, at the very least, the attitude, the psychological state expressed by the locutor qua locutor in the completive clause. It is thus inseparable from the enunciation of the locutor qua locutor. Reflexive clauses do not describe a propositional content and thus cannot be given any truth-value. Hence, je dis que c’est vrai (‘I am telling you that it is true’) cannot be followed by ‘no you don’t say that’ but only by ‘you should not say that’ or ‘why do you say that?’, i.e. by utterances having to do with the content of the assertion P: ‘it is true’. Here the utterance characterises / shows reflexively its own enunciation (P is said with a specific argumentative value) instead of asserting a certain propositional content (somebody says P). If the reflexive clause is suppressed from the discourse, it does not change the propositional content expressed (P). So in this analysis, je represents either the locutor-L in reflexive clauses or the locutor-λ in metadiscursive clauses. However, in my opinion, there is no reason why je might not be both locutor-L and locutor-λ in reflexive clauses. If one utters: je ne dis pas souvent ce que je pense mais là franchement je te dis que c’est vrai (‘I don’t often say what I think but here frankly I am telling you that it is true’), it feels odd to say that the second je represents only the locutor qua locutor and not the locutor qua person of the world. On the contrary, it seems that the persuasive force of that utterance is that while the first je simply refers to a person of the world who is usually not very frank, the second je unexpect-

What is ‘reported discourse’?

Figure 10. Continuum from Performative to Descriptive Clauses (adapted from Perrin 1996: 145) fundamentally reflexive clauses purely potentially reflexive metadiscursive performative attitudinal clauses clauses

fundamentally metadiscursive clauses potentially purely reflexive metadiscursive authoritative descriptive clauses clauses

edly counters that impression by conveying that this person is the same as the locutor uttering a frank sentence. Indeed Perrin himself acknowledges that there are some cases where the locutor qua locutor takes charge for a discourse that is presented as emanating from the locutor qua person of the world, in what he calls an ‘argument d’autorité auto-allusive’ (‘auto-allusive authoritative argument’). His explanations are quite complex but they will prove useful for discussions that go beyond this section by highlighting differences in the use of reported discourses in narrative and argumentative sequences. In a set of four articles, one of which written with Vincent, Perrin envisages a continuum of four categories and calls into question the neat binary distinction between reflexive clauses and metadiscursive clauses (or what more traditional linguists would call ‘performative/attitudinal clauses’ versus ‘reported discourse’) (see Figure 10).30 – Performative Clauses: name the specific illocutionary acts realised by the locutors qua locutors and are thus completely inseparable from the enunciations they are qualifying. Examples given by Perrin & Vincent (1997) are j’affirme que. . . (‘I assert that. . .’) and Je dis que . . . (‘I say that. . .’) in a context that is neither iterative (e.g. ‘I often say that. . .’) nor durative (e.g. ‘For a long time now I have been saying that. . .’). This category would include my examples (33)–(36) above. – Attitudinal Clauses: do not specifically name the illocutionary acts and the actual enunciations which they depend on, but only psychological states susceptible to be attributed to the locutors qua locutors, depending on their context.31 They are potentially metadiscursive because they can also refer to the locutor qua person and be linked to an echoic sequence. They are often verbs of opinion: je pense, je crois, j’espère, je me dis que . . . (‘I think, I believe, I hope, I tell myself that . . .’); and verba dicendi used with a modal auxiliary or the conditional: je peux te dire e, j’ai un peu honte de dire, je te dirais que . . . (‘I can say, I am a bit ashamed to say, I would say that . . .’). This category would include my examples (37)–(40) above.





Part I, Chapter 2

– Authoritative clauses: The locutor qua locutor indirectly takes charge for the point of view echoed in the completive and assimilates it to a greater or lesser extent to his own point of view. What is of importance here is not to reproduce a specific dialogue within a particular line of narrative but rather to reinforce one’s own discourse thanks to the discourse of the Other. It can be another individual (hetero-allusive) or the locutor qua person in the world (auto-allusive) in the past, the future or in the generic or iterative present.32 The locutor-L appears to assert that somebody said P while actually communicating that P himself. The trick here is that it does not mean that the locutor-L completely takes P for granted but just that he needs to express P in order to continue with his reasoning. Examples given by Perrin & Vincent (1997) are Il paraît que (‘it seems that’), on dit que (‘it is said that’), il dit / a dit/ dirait que (he says/(has) said/would say that’), j’ai dit que (‘I (have) said that’) and Je dis souvent que . . . (‘I often say that’). Contrary to narrative clauses, authoritative clauses can be suppressed without hindering the coherence of the overall discourse (even if the content is slightly altered). This category would include my example (32) above. – Descriptive (or narrative) clauses: The locutor qua locutor does not take charge for the point of view echoed in the completive. This completive reproduces a discourse-object that must be determined contextually (notably temporally) within a chain of successive events, i.e. a context that exists independently of the narrative itself (i.e. pertaining to the story that the narrative is telling). This is the case for many traditional examples of reported discourses as they are often taken from literary narratives. This category would include my example (31) above. Based on these definitions, Perrin’s argument is that the locutor qua locutor can assume some responsibility for what another locutor/enunciator is saying (i.e. hetero-allusive authoritative argument) or for what he said/says/will say as a locutor qua person in the world (i.e. auto-allusive authoritative argument). So in an argumentative sequence, metadiscursive clauses such as il paraît que, il dit que and even je dis que can be interpreted as having an indirect reflexive illocutionary force, i.e. they not only present a propositional content but also qualify the utterance as having a certain argumentative value. Conversely, some modal reflexive clauses can have their illocutionary force relativised in case the utterance is followed by a context that makes it attributable to locutor qua person in the world, e.g. je pense que P mais je ne le vous dis pas (‘I think that P but I am not saying it to you’) or je pourrais dire que P et d’ailleurs, je vous le dis (‘I could say P and actually I am telling you so’). The responsibility of locutor qua

What is ‘reported discourse’?

locutor can thus be relativised with regard to that of locutor qua person. Only metadiscursive descriptive clauses present material that cannot be vouched for by the locutor qua locutor and these appear only in narrative sequences. On the other end of the spectrum, only reflexive performative clauses are completely taken in charge by the locutor qua locutor (and for Perrin not by the locutor qua person). There are thus two possibilities on the continuum for the locutor qua locutor to be associated with the locutor qua person in the world. Perrin’s second point is that it is not always easy to distinguish between purely reflexive clauses and auto-allusive authoritative clauses (Perrin 2000a). This has to do either with a lack of contextual evidences or with the fact that some clauses in the first person present indicative seem to preclude the reflexive interpretation (performative or attitudinal). For him clauses like j’affirme que (‘I assert that’) or je pense que (‘I think that’) are definitely reflexive (respectively performative and attitudinal) while clauses like je remarque que (‘I remark that’) or j’observe que (‘I observe that’) are not. This is because the first clauses have undergone a diachronic evolution (in the way Ducrot describes it) and have completely lost their original descriptive meaning while the second ones have not. As for the expression je dis que, Perrin presents it as ambiguous and only ‘in the process’ of becoming a performative formula. This is why it is sometimes very difficult to classify sentences with je dis (que) as either performative (i.e. reflexive) or auto-allusive authoritative (i.e. metadiscursive). Consequently, for Perrin, as for Ducrot, performative and attitudinal expressions have an original descriptive meaning, which in Perrin’s examples seems linked to reported discourse. While Perrin does not allow for the presence of locutor qua person in performative clauses, he leaves no doubt as to the fact that this locutor qua person was present in the original descriptive expression and that it can be more or less associated with the locutor qua locutor on two categories of his continuum. Finally, he also shows us, as we will see in Part II, Chapter 1, that the form and function of reported discourses are very much linked to the contexts where they appear (e.g. argumentative versus narrative sequences). In conclusion, examples (33) to (36) and any other performative expressions33 as well as attitudinal clauses such as (37) to (40) allow the je to stage his/her own discourse and to distinguish it from the discourse of the Other, in the enunciative present. These expressions do not simply present a locutorL taking the responsibility of his/her enunciation but also build an image of locutor-λ, the being in the world that has certain specific opinions (sometimes in opposition to other locutors, as is clearly illustrated in example (34)). In par-





Part I, Chapter 2

allel to an utterance such as Je suis quelqu’un de franc, the utterance Je te dis que X could thus also mean: ‘I (locutor-L and λ) am the enunciator of discourse X’. . Modality and theatricalisation Some of the above expressions clearly have a modal value since they express the speaker’s opinion about certain facts (33)–(35), (37)–(40). In other examples, the speaker reflects upon his/her knowledge about certain pieces of information (41). (41) Nevchehirlian, p. 10 [conversation about unions’ politics] + /dans, à/ la dernière manif qu’on a fait euh + pour la sécu on était euh ff les journaux ils disent dix mille mais moi je pense cinq mille si on aurait . été euh quinze ou vingt ou trente ou quatre cent mille comme ils étaient . à Paris + je crois que + il aurait reculé sur certains points [+ in the last protest we held + for the social + we were euh newspapers say ten thousand but I think five thousand if we had been fifteen or twenty or thirty or four hundred thousands like they were in Paris + I believe that they would have backed down on certain points]

Here the verba dicendi and sentiendi can thus be analysed as evidential markers, i.e. they indicate the source of the information on which the speaker’s statement is based. By extension, these expressions also carry an epistemic modality since by pointing that s/he is the source of the data, the speaker also presents them as reliable and trustworthy. Obviously, modality and evidentiality are not only carried by first-person expressions (see il dit que (38), ils disent (41)) but once again some linguists tend to see these phenomena as excluding expressions such as je dis and je pense from the pool of ‘true reported discourse’. The insistence upon the staging of one’s own discourse is especially obvious in diaphonic situations where speakers are constantly marking their own discourses in contrast to these of their addressees (see (9 ) supra) and in argumentative contexts in general. This type of discourses also appears in contexts where speakers give a lot of importance to what they want to say and how they want to say it: comment vais-je dire (‘how shall I say’), comment dirais-je (‘how should I say’), je vais dire (‘I’ll say’), je dirais (‘I would say’), si je puis dire ça (‘if I may say so’), je veux dire (‘I want to say’ or ‘I mean’), je dois dire (‘I must say’), etc. Reflexive discourse, as Perrin (1996) calls it, thus entails a necessary ‘overmarking’ that is certainly not redundant since it differentiates it from the rest of the discourse. Going back to the definition of the term ‘reported’ (see supra), I envisage this type of reflexive discourse as the ‘mise en rapport’ (the

What is ‘reported discourse’?

linking) of marked enunciations (that of locutor-L and sometimes that of the addressee) with another more neutral or intersubjective enunciation: ‘we are speaking, you say this and here is what I am saying. . .’ Rosier (1999: 198) alludes to the possibility of theatricalisation when she examines expressions such as selon moi, pour moi (‘according to me/in my opinion’), but unfortunately she rejects it (my emphasis):34 Le locuteur se met en scène pour citer sa propre énonciation: tout en relativisant ce qu’il dit par la mention restrictive ‘pour moi’, il se pose comme sujet capable de parler avec ses mots propres, d’exprimer un point de vue bien à lui. Dans le continuum, cette forme serait en aval, ou le sujet ne se montre dans son énonciation que pour produire a contrario l’effet inverse du DR: c’est mon point de vue, ce sont mes mots, c’est ma parole, c’est moi. (. . .) Peut-on cependant voir dans ces formes une théâtralisation de l’énonciation, c’est-à-dire une mise en scène de sa propre énonciation, qui se rapporte alors comme l’opinion d’autrui? Ce serait introduire un dédoublement énonciatif conscient – en-deçà de l’hétérogénéité constitutive de tout discours et de la division inéluctable du sujet lacanien bien entendu – difficilement tenable eu égard à l’effet produit par ces formes. [my translation: The locutor is putting himself on stage in order to quote his own enunciation: while relativising what he is saying with the restrictive expression ‘in my opinion’, he constitutes himself as a subject, able to speak with his own words, to express his very own personal point of view. On a continuum, this form would come last, where the subject shows himself in his enunciation only to produce an a contrario effect: this is my point of view, these are my words, this is my speech, this is me. (. . .) Can we however envisage these forms as a theatricalisation of enunciation, i.e. a staging of one’s own enunciation, which is thus reported as that of somebody else? This would entail a conscious enunciative split – other than the constitutive heterogeneity of any discourse and of course the ineluctable division of the lacanian subject – a view difficult to maintain given the effect produced by these forms]

I like Rosier’s description but I do not think that this possible theatricalisation should be considered as involving a conscious enunciative split. I see it indeed as a very lacanian – i.e. subconscious – division. After all to say je, and especially to say je dis or je pense, always amounts to subconsciously building oneself a character and thus speaking about somebody else.





Part I, Chapter 2

. Conclusion I have answered the three questions asked at the beginning of the present chapter. First, the term ‘reported’ should be understood as establishing a connection, a link between two discourses, relating a discourse to another (a meaning that is clear in the French word rapport). As such, the structure of reported discourse involves strategies of discourse presentation and not mainly of discourse reproduction (entailing the pre-existence of a specific utterance). Second, the generic term ‘discourse’ covers speech, thought, attitudes and writing: the three former types being placed on a continuum ranging from external speech to inner speech to attitude towards a mental content (and some internal perceptions). I have also noted possible ambiguities between speech and writing. Third, the concept of reported discourse must encompass both the discourse of the other(s) and the discourse of the self, in what is a theatricalisation of the subconscious split between ‘locutor-L’ and ‘locutor-λ’. These answers have the merit of elucidating, and sometimes questioning, criteria that are too often implicit in traditional studies of reported discourse. They also significantly broaden the scope of the field, preparing for a truly extended approach of S&TP strategies in the second part of this book. In the course of this chapter, I have used several kinds of continuum to illustrate the links between the different types and uses of reported discourse (e.g. Reproduction → Assertion, External Speech → Attitudes, Performative Clauses → Metalinguistic Clauses).35 It is important to note that while such tools usefully allow us to account for the ambiguity of certain examples in actual discourse, it should not give the impression that there are no clear reference points at a theoretical level. Each benchmark can be defined with specific linguistic and semantic criteria but their actualisation in language is necessarily influenced by contextual and co-textual elements as well as by the inherent polysemy of some linguistic features. This chapter has also highlighted the importance of reported discourse for the crucial distinction between narrative and argumentative sequences, a fact that will be further illustrated in the practical approach to texts taken in the second part of this book (see notably Part II, Chapter 1 and 4). Indeed, until recently, reported discourse was most often studied in the context of literary fiction and thus mostly in narrative sequences, giving the basis of the traditional S&TP categories (FDD-DD-ID-FID) as well as the implicit view that reported discourse is mainly a (pseudo) reproduction of a single third-person speech event (or thought in the case of FID). It is clear however that the study of S&TP is also essential to our understanding of argumentative strategies, which

What is ‘reported discourse’?

is greatly facilitated once we envisage reported discourse as encompassing actualisation, invention and assertion as well as (pseudo)reproduction (to use Vincent and Dubois’ terms) and once we accept that it can be coupled with modalisation and performativity by including occurrences in the first-person indicative present such as je dis que (‘I say that’) and je pense que (‘I think that’).

Notes . Direct Discourse is sometimes considered as reported discourse par excellence, i.e. as the type that faithfully reports the original discourse and from which Indirect Discourse can be derived. Most recent works call these two principles into question (see Rosier 1999: 56, 237 for a summary and also see Fludernik 1993). . Collins (2001: 67) also highlights the theatrical character of Direct Discourse and its ability to “(re) animate the reportee’s viewpoint (‘voice’) by assuming – or re-enacting, when there is an actual anterior utterance – his position in the projected speech event”. Stressing the salience of the notion of verbatimness in relation to Direct Discourse (which he calls Direct Speech (DS)), Collins (2001: 67) notes that: [. . .] the prominence of the concept is because it is what the addressee, as fictive witness of the reported speech event, is supposed, in effect, to experience. In this sense one can meaning fully talk about the “verbatim qualities of the pretended original” (Chafe 1994: 222) in fictitious DS, since the observation would then relate not to the actual actions of the reporter but to the expected perceptions of the interpreter (including the reporter as co-interpreter). . Also see Vincent and Dubois (1996: 362–3) for other examples of Spoken French, and Rosier (1999: 237–44) for examples of Written French. . For a detailed description of the spoken corpus, see Part II, Chapter 1, Section 1. Direct Discourses are indicated in bold; Indirect Discourses are underlined and Free Indirect Discourses are italicised. Whenever needed, Narrated Discourses are shown in upper case. . This does not contradict the fact that speakers often use Direct Discourse in order to pretend that the quoted discourse is faithfully reported. It is especially the case in the written press even if readers do not hold the same degree of trust to quotation marks used in tabloids than to these found in the so-called ‘quality newspapers’. Short et al. (2002) assert that whenever written discourse is reported in the direct mode, it is necessarily entirely faithful to an anterior discourse. In my opinion, this is only true in journalistic or academic discourse but not necessarily in spoken discourse (which Leech, Short and their team do not study). See Part Two, Chapter 1, Section 6. . All these facts of course undermine the view that Direct Discourse can be seen as a pure ‘mention’ of a previous discourse, as Authier-Revuz holds in her work (also see Rosier’s criticism 1999: 114–5). See Note 21 in previous chapter. . This invaluable book studies Direct and Indirect Speech but, – contrary to the present research – it excludes the study of reported thoughts and the study of other categories of





Part I, Chapter 2

S&TP such as Free Indirect Discourse or Narrated Discourse. There is a partial summary of the same research in a short article written in English (Vincent & Dubois 1996). . For precise references, see Note 23 in previous chapter. . Roulet (1997: 152, 2000: 4) also uses the term ‘discours représenté’ (represented discourse) instead of reported discourse, following Fairclough (1988). So does Rabatel (2001). Regarding that term, see Part I, Chapter 1, Section 3. . Linguists such as Mochet (1993a) and Peytard (1993) clearly use discours in order to refer to speech without ever questioning their implicit choice. Rosier (1999) rarely alludes to reported thought but she briefly explains why (1999: 271). Amongst works that make a clear distinction between speech and thought, one finds Chafe (1994), Cohn (1978), Fleischman (1990, 1998), Fleischman and Yaguello (2004), Fludernik (1993), Genette (1983, at least in theory), Perrin (1996, 1997, 2000a), Rabatel (1998, 2001, 2004), Rychner (1990), Sternberg (1982: 152), Weinrich (1989) as well as Leech, Short and their team (who are pretty much the only ones to pay attention to reported writing, see Short et al. 2002). . Larochette (1980: 275–77) is one of the rare linguists to offer a list of verba sentiendi. Franckel & Lebaud (1990) analyse verbs of perception, feeling and comprehension but without studying reported discourse. . Vuillaume (2000: 107) explains that he uses the term style indirect libre (‘free indirect style’) instead of discours indirect libre (‘free indirect discourse’) because the word discourse refers to speech while many occurrences of free indirect style actually refer to thought. However he does not discuss the difference between the two types. Pascal (1977) employs ‘Free Indirect Speech’ in order to refer both to speech and thoughts, noting that “the term ‘speech’ in these contexts refers not to actual spoken language, but to a mode of discourse” (1977: 31–32). . The original meaning of se dire in Medieval French is ‘to tell oneself out loud’; see Rychner (1990: 158–63), Marnette (1998: 172–3), Rosier (1999: 274–6). In Modern French, se dire can also mean ‘to tell each other out loud’ (see (27) infra). For examples of se dire in the Modern Spoken French corpus, see (27), (32), (40) infra and Part II, Chapter 1, Section 2. . One will also notice that Vincent and Dubois link their decision to exclude reported thoughts to that of excluding Free Indirect Discourse, as if that category was always reporting thoughts and never speech (1997: 13). See the section on Free Indirect Discourse, Part II, Chapter 1, Section 3. . Similarly, Jaubert (2000) sees thoughts as excluded of the realm of reported discourse unless they represent a real or a virtual utterance, or in other words unless they could be spoken (even if they are not). For her therefore, only verbal material can be included in reported discourse but not what I call ‘non verbal’, a view which obviously excludes a number of reported thought as well as virtually all reported attitudes. Moreover, in the absence of a verbum sentiendi that would signal potentially utterable quotes, Jaubert sees Free Direct Thoughts (e.g. inner monologues) and some Free Indirect Thought as preverbal and thus not reported discourse (Jaubert 2000 and personal communication). . Aspect is encoded in verbal morphology (like tense) and can be expressed through other means such as adverbs and the lexical meaning of the verb. “Unlike tense, however . . . it is not concerned with relating the time of a situation to any other time point, but rather with

What is ‘reported discourse’?

how the speaker chooses to profile the situation” (Fleischman 1990: 19). Perfective aspect (e.g. in French a present perfect such as j’ai pensé ‘I thought’ in ex. m above) denotes “single situations viewed synthetically ‘from the outside’, that is, as unanalysable wholes with well-defined results or endpoints” (Fleischman 1990: 19). Imperfective aspect (e.g. m above) views “situations analytically ‘from the inside’, making explicit reference to their internal development and leaving their endpoint out of focus entirely” (Fleischman 1990: 19). Imperfective aspect is also often viewed as durative, i.e. it underlines the duration of the situation. Iterative aspect points out to the repetition of an action (e.g. l above). . It must be said however that Direct Discourses with penser are relatively rare in my medieval corpus. This verbum sentiendi and its quasi synonym, cuidier, usually appear with Indirect Discourse. Chapter 2 in Part II will show that there are not many Reported Thoughts in the medieval corpus anyway, except in verse and prose romances. I found only two examples of penser used with Direct Discourse in the written press corpus, both within the same article narrating the discovery of a prehistorical skull: Assis dans ce désert brûlant, ce Tchadien originaire du sud du pays, humide et forestier, a d’abord pensé: “Notre souffrance est récompensée.” (. . .) Le petit crâne est remarquablement conservé, coiffé d’une perruque de grès ferrugineux noirci au manganèse. “C’est au moins un grand singe”, pense alors Ahounta. [Sitting in the scorching desert, this Chadian born in the South of the country, a wet and forested region, first thought: “Our suffering is rewarded.” (. . .) The little skull is remarkably preserved, capped with a wig of ferruginous sandstone blackened with manganese. “It must be at least a big ape”, then thinks Ahounta.] (Le Figaro, 11-07-2002, Le Djourab, p. 10) For other examples in the press, see also Tuomarla (2000: 129, 136, 138). . See Part II, Chapters 2 and 3. The events of the story can be presented through different perspectives, i.e. ‘focalisations’, generally alternating within a narrative. In the case of external focalisation, the narrator is the focalising agent who has – in principle – a total knowledge of the events, viewed in panoramic and panchronic ways. In the case of internal focalisation, the events of the story are viewed through the perspective of an instance situated inside of the story: it can be an impersonal instance but it usually is a character, whose knowledge and perception of the events are necessarily limited (synchronic view). See Rimmon-Kenan (1983: 74–85), following and modifying Genette (1972). . Chapter 3 of this first part will show that this subtile distinction makes the analysis of Narrated Discourse particularly difficult. Indeed, Leech, Short and their team go as far as devising a special category ‘N-NI’ to describe narrated thoughts in the press, noting that “in newspapers, we have to assume that, if we can trust these reports at all, they must be based on inferences that the reporters have drawn from external events, such as the protagonist’s behaviour and/or speech” (Semino et al., 1997: 26–8). One of their examples is “Right-wing ministers are also anxious to see the rebels back in the fold.” (quoted by Short et al. 1996: 125). Obviously this remark does not only hold for narrated thought (which they call ‘narration of internal states’) but also for indirect thoughts. . These lists include all the verba dicendi and sentiendi found in my Spoken French corpus to the exclusion of these used only in Narrated Discourses. . Literally faire means ‘to do’, ‘to make’ but it can be used as a verbum dicendi with the meaning ‘to say’. In spoken French, for example, an expression such as il fait is similar to the more relaxed ‘he goes’.





Part I, Chapter 2 . If only because one can think out loud but also speak to oneself. . . Note that Tuomarla (2000: 137–8) also sees the opportunity for a continuum based on two axes: that of reported discourse categories (DD, ID, FID) and that of the verbs’ meanings (dire, penser, etc). . Here I am distinguishing between Narrated Discourse and Indirect Discourse on a syntactic basis (see next chapter, Section 1.2). Linguists who do not make such a distinction would interpret examples such as j’ai vu que (‘I saw that’) and j’ai senti que (‘I felt that’) as Narrated Discourses, like they do for il sait que (‘he knows that’). . A performative expression accomplishes the action it refers to by the very fact of being uttered. Thus saying j’ordonne qu’il vienne (‘I order him to come’) realizes a speech act, i.e. a command, at the very same time it is uttered by its speaker. Language philosophers (Austin, Searle, etc.) and many linguists after them have noticed that verbs in the first person, in the indicative present and followed by a completive constitute an important category of performative expressions usually called ‘explicit performatives’ (e.g. je promets que ‘I promise that’, j’ordonne que ‘I command that’, je souhaite que ‘I wish that’). See, amongst others, Recanati (1981). . Here I am using Récanati (1981)’s traditional definition of performatives. I will show infra that Ducrot (1980b, 1984) has a different view of what performatives do but we will see that his arguments, although they call into question the conventional description of performative expressions such as je dis que and je souhaite que, do not challenge their primary value as markers of reported discourses. . See amongst others the works of Leech, Short and their team. . For the link between modal and evidential, see next section and Chapter 3, Section 2. . In fact, when arguing for je dis (que) X to be considered as reported discourse, I am showing the heterogeneity of the subject but I am focussing more on the heterogeneity of the unconscious (exemplified by the distinction L and λ) rather than the interdiscursive heterogeneity (the discourse of the Je versus the discourse of the Other). I am therefore close to Authier-Revuz’s theories about the constitutive heterogeneity of the subject, which she sees as being both psychological (the subject’s unconscious is intrinsically fragmented) and discursive (a multiplicity of discourses inherently pervades the subject’s own discourse) (Authier-Revuz 1982 & 1984). For Authier-Revuz, this heterogeneity can be shown explicitly (hétérogénéité montrée) through a range of strategies, amongst which reported discourses. The use of reported discourse makes visible the boundaries between the Other and the Self. Moreover Direct Discourse is the ultimate boundary marker because it drastically shows the discourse of the Other as separate from my own discourse (other enunciation, deixis, quotation marks, etc). However, at the same time, this explicit heterogeneity implicitly denies the fact that my own discourse is inherently heterogenous as well because my unconscious is fragmented. In other words, if I can explicitly represent the Other in my discourse, with specific boundaries between that discourse and mine, then my discourse is implicitly presented as one, as unified, but it is just an illusion (Authier-Revuz 1984: 108). What I am saying then, and I am really not sure that Authier-Revuz would agree with me, is that by using je dis (que) X, I am trying to equate myself explicitly as both a locutor qua locutor and as locutor qua person of the world, to show my discourse as one (I am responsible for what I am saying), but paradoxically this effort (overmarking of my discourse as being reported) betrays the fact that these are two sides that are inherently different (what I am is not what I say).

What is ‘reported discourse’? . Actually apart from je dis que and the like (je pourrais/peux/voudrais dire que ‘I could/can/ would say that’, etc.), performative expressions are extremely rare in my French corpus. This could be context-dependent but could also be linked to J. Yoo’s remark that, in spoken language, people rarely use the actual performative verbs in order to accomplish performative acts, e.g. a promise (personal communication). Although he does not say so, it might be that we are more likely to use less face-threatening behaviour such as an indirect speech act, e.g. ‘I will come’ instead of ‘I promise that I will come’. This proves once more that performative expressions are not redundant. . . . Perrin 1996, 1997, 2000a and Perrin & Vincent 1997. . E.g. I am not performing the act of thinking or believing if I say ‘I think that. . .’ or ‘I believe that. . .’ but merely referring to a particular psychological state (see supra). . Here Perrin and Vincent (1997) build on Ducrot’s notion of ‘authoritative argument’ (Ducrot 1980b: 45, 1984: 151). . Explicit performatives other than je dis que are extremely rare in my corpus of Modern Spoken French but they are more frequent in my medieval corpus, e.g. when characters utter commands to other characters (see Part II, Chapter 2, Section 3.1). . Note that Rosier’s examples of selon moi et pour moi are in the past as well as in the present tenses. She does not specifically discuss the problem of the use of present in a performative context but only speaks about the use of selon moi and pour moi in general. See more on selon X and selon moi in Chapter 3, Section 3 of this part. . In the previous chapter, I also used Leech and Short (1981)’s continuum between the different categories of S&TP.



Chapter 3

To the limits of reportability

.

Introduction

While the previous chapter adopted a broad approach to reported discourse, it dealt mainly with canonical categories such as (Free) Direct and Indirect Discourses. The present chapter will go one step further, examining Narrated Discourse as well as modalisers like the so-called ‘press conditional’ and expressions such as selon X (‘according to X’). While these categories are distinct from reported discourse per se, I will show that they are undoubtedly related to it and must be taken into account when studying S&TP strategies.

. Narrated Discourse In line with Genette’s discours narrativisé (1972: 191), I will call ‘Narrated Discourse’ a reference to an enunciative event, without mention of its precise content by way of a completive or an infinitival clause (unlike Indirect Discourse). My definition is based more on syntactic criteria than semantic ones and I will explain why in the course of the present chapter. As with other S&TP categories, I will distinguish between Narrated Speech (1), Narrated Thought (2), Narrated Attitude (3) and Narrated Writing (4). In my examples, Narrated Discourse will be indicated in upper cases. (1) Balboa, p. 32 [young man reminisces about his experience as an exchange student in Spain] bon on sortait beaucoup ensemble on allait dans les bars on rencontrait des Espagnols ON PARLAIT AVEC LES ESPAGNOLES + euh on on se faisait des week-ends on est allé à Avila + bon ben aller à Avila c’était euh + non en fait on est allé à l’Escorial + mais il fallait passer par Avila + alors bon il fallait prendre le train il fallait DEMANDER LE BILLET EUH DEMANDER LES VISITES demander comment ça se passait si on pouvait avoir des réductions + euh enfin c’était euh ce ça mettait en pratique tout



Part I, Chapter 3

ce qu’on apprenait le euh + le la semaine [so we would go out a lot all together we would meet Spaniards WE WOULD TALK WITH SPANISH GIRLS + we would organize weekend getaways we went to Avila + so well going to Avila it was euh + no actually we went to the Escorial + but we had to pass through Avila + so we had to take the train we had to ASK FOR THE TICKET EUH TO ASK ABOUT VISITING TIMES to ask how it worked if we could have reductions + euh so it was euh we were practicing all the things we had learned euh + during the week] (2) Nevchehirlian, p. 9 [conversation about unions’ politics] ++ moi JE PENSE comme ça il y en a il y a un camarade qui s’appelle Jean et qui PENSE PAS comme moi + qu’il est à côté + par rapport aux étudiants + moi je pense que si les étudiants ils continuent comme qu’ils continuent comme ça ils aboutiront bon Jean lui PENSE autrement il dit que ça va se s’effri- s’effri- s’effriter + parce que les partis surtout le Parti Socialiste il + il veut le prendre de son côté [++ I THINK LIKE THAT there is there is a comrade whose name is Jean and who DOES NOT THINK like I do + he is next door + regarding the students + I think that if the students continue like that they will succeed well as for Jean HE THINKS differently he says that it [the movement] will wear out + because the [political] parties especially the Socialist Party it + it wants to turn it [the movement] to its side] (3) Cappeau, p. 99 [conversation between a builder and his customer] non alors l- là s- je crois c’est dans les neuf cent mille francs JE /ME, M’EN/ RAPPELLE PLUS EXACTEMENT j’ai pas apporté les papiers [no there I think it is around nine hundred thousand francs I DON’T REMEMBER EXACTLY I have not brought the paperwork with me ] (4) Lefebvre, p. 5 [radioshow with singer Leo Ferré as guest; his friend speaks about him] et une fois LÉO M’A ÉCRIT UNE CARTE POSTALE sur laquelle il y avait écrit Jean Pierre je te saime je t’aime je te serre très fort dans mes bras n’oublie pas que je suis ton Léo [and once LEO WROTE ME A POSTCARD on which it was written Jean Pierre I love you I love you I give you a big hug don’t forget that I am your Léo]

Because, as I will shortly demonstrate, Narrated Discourse represents a borderline case of S&TP, my book does not deal extensively with it and I usually only consider its occurrences whenever they appear in the vicinity of other types of

To the limits of reportability

reported discourses. Indeed Narrated Discourse is a phenomenon so complex that it would undoubtedly require an entire study of its own. It must however be described with a minimum of details in order for us to understand its relationships with other types of S&TP such as Indirect Discourse and Free Indirect Discourse. This is what I will modestly undertake to do in the next sections while exploring the difficulties linked to the notion of Narrated Discourse: 1. How is it described and defined by other linguists? 2. What is the benefit of using a syntactic approach of Narrated Discourse rather than a purely semantic one, as most linguists implicitly do? 3. Why is it so complex to locate and categorise occurrences of Narrated Discourses consistently, especially when dealing with Narrated Thoughts and Attitudes? . Names and definitions There are not many studies of Narrated Discourse and when they exist they are often based on Narrated Speech rather than Narrated Thought.1 This is in line with the fact that linguists tend to study speech presentation rather than thought and attitudes presentation (see Part I, Chapter 2, Section 3). It is also due to the fact that it is easier to locate Narrated Speech than Narrated Thought and Attitudes, which can frequently be confused with pure narration (see infra). The notion of Narrated Discourse is often introduced in theories that argue for a continuum spanning from the narrator’s discourse (pure narration) to that of the characters ((Free) Direct Discourse).2 As such, Narrated Discourse is the S&TP category closest to the pole of pure narration.3 Some linguists like McHale, Leech, Short and their team, and Thompson even distinguish a continuum within the notion of Narrated Discourse itself. McHale (1978: 258–9), who studies English literature, differentiates between ‘Diegetic Summary’ which involves “only the bare report that a speech event has occurred without any specification of what was said or how it was said” and “summary less purely diegetic (. . .) which to some degree represents, not merely gives notice of, a speech event in that it names the topics of conversation”. Similarly, Leech, Short and their team recently developed their original notion of ‘Narrative Report of a Speech Act’ (Leech and Short 1981: 323–4) into three different concepts: – Narrative Report of Voice: “minimal speech presentation”, “we are informed that someone engaged in verbal activity, but we are not given any explicit in-





Part I, Chapter 3

dication as to what speech acts are performed. Let alone what the form and content of the occurrence were.” (Semino et al. 1997: 24–25). “Don’t you love Barrie’s play?” she asked. “I’m so fond of them”. She talked on. Rampion made no comment. (Aldous Huxley, Point Counter Point, quoted by Semino et al. 1997: 24)

Also used for “general references to speech events that involved a large number of participants.” (Semino et al. 1997: 26). An unholy row broke out yesterday over a new politically-correct Bible. (The Daily Mirror, ‘God is a Mother in Bible Rethink’, quoted by Semino et al. 1997: 25)

– Narrative Report of a Speech Act (NRSA):4 “the occurrence of a speech act is reported with no report of the content of the utterance”. (Leech et al. 1997: 96) The Chief Whip, Richard Ryder, was also being privately criticised. (The Independent, ‘Lilley Presses Major to Allow Rebel Back’, quoted by Semino et al. 1997: 23)

– Narrative Report of a Speech Act with a topic expressed (NRSAT): = Subcategory of NRSA, “cases where there is no reported clause but where the report of the speech act is accompanied by an explicit indication of the subject-matter of the utterance or utterances in question” (Semino et al. 1997: 30). “. . . [T]he topic of the speech act is reported although the form and content of the actual speech act itself is not elaborated” (Leech et al. 1997: 96). Labour called last week for a streamlined Scandinavian style monarchy to banish Britain’s class-ridden society. (The Daily Mirror, ‘Cut the Royal Down to Size’, quoted by Semino et al. 1997: 30)

Contrary to McHale, who only gives examples of Narrated Speech, we will see infra that Leech, Short and their team discriminate between speech and thought. What is also of interest here is their attention to syntax since they underline the fact that ‘Narrative Report of a Speech Act with a topic’ contains no reporting clauses, which separates it from Indirect Discourse. Interestingly, that category accounts for 80% of all Narrative Reports of a Speech Act in their press data and 67% in their literary data (Semino et al. 1997: 30). So it appears that Narrative Reports of a Speech Act rarely appear without a ‘topic’. This might also point to a problem in their classification since it seems difficult to see a big difference between some of their examples of Narrative Report of Voice (especially general references to speech events that involved a large number of participants) and ‘topicless’ Narrative Reports of a Speech Act. In

To the limits of reportability

fact the only difference between their above examples seems to be the semantic meaning of the verb, e.g. a row broke out is more neutral (?) than was being criticised. Thompson (1996: 517–18) distinguishes between ‘summary’, which he describes in syntactical terms as fairly similar to NRSA in Leech and Short (1981), and ‘omission’, which seems closer to what Leech, Short and their team now call ‘Narrative Report of Voice’, i.e. the speaker mentions that a speech event took place but gives no information about what was said. Waugh (1995: 160–1), who works on a French press corpus and focuses solely on reported speech, tends to blur the category of Narrated Discourse with that of Indirect Discourse. Instead of a syntactic criterion, she uses the semantic notion of ‘condensation’, envisaging a continuum going from least condensed Indirect Speech (i.e. reporting more or less every bit of the original utterance) to completely condensed “narrative report of a speech event, without any indication of propositional, illocutionary, or other contents (Arafat and Rabin held talks today)” Waugh (1995: 160–1). This last category corresponds to what Leech, Short and their team name ‘Narrative Report of Voice’. In the middle of her continuum, Waugh does not seem to distinguish between condensed Indirect Speech (i.e. verbum dicendi with an infinitive or a completive clause) and what Leech, Short and their team call ‘Narrative Report of a Speech Act with a topic’ (i.e. verbum dicendi without an infinitive or a completive clause). For reasons I will develop later, it seems better to keep the syntactic criterion rather than the semantic criterion. Based on a corpus of French press (newspapers and women magazines) and French literature (mainly 20th-c.), Rosier (1999: 130, 231–3) discusses the relevance of the distinction between Indirect Discourse and Narrated Discourse, noting that while appropriate from a syntactic point of view, it is not necessary so from a semantic perspective.5 She shows that Narrated Discourse cannot be said to be entirely homogeneous (de Gaulmyn 1989), i.e. it does not focus only on the quoting discourse but can sometimes develop the quoted discourse at some length, depending on the context. Her examples of more ‘explicit’ Narrated Discourse are similar to the Narrative Reports of a Speech Act with a topic given by Leech, Short and their team but she also gives examples of Narrated Discourses coupled with segments in Direct Discourse (see infra). Mochet (1993a) is one of the rare linguists studying Narrated Discourse in spoken French. Not surprisingly, her findings are somewhat different from those based on written corpora such as journalistic or literary texts (see infra). She works with de Gaulmyn (1983: 231)’s definition of Narrated Discourse: mentioning of speech in the form of an infinitive or a nominal syntagm object of a locutionary verb, or in the form of an abstract noun (e.g. ces récriminations





Part I, Chapter 3

‘these remonstrations’) (Mochet 1993a: 99).6 However Mochet’s interpretation of Narrated Discourse is fairly restricted by additional semantic criteria since she exclusively considers Narrated Speech (not Thought) and bars contexts that are negative, virtual or illocutionary (performative). She rules out examples such as il n’a plus fait d’objection (‘he did not further object to it’), quand j’ai quelque chose à dire, je le dis en face (‘when I have something to say, I say it straight out’) and je vous répète ce qu’on m’a dit (‘I am repeating what I was told’). She is therefore excluding 75% of all occurrences of verbs of communication without a reported clause in her corpus.7 In doing so, she fails to answer satisfactorily her own theoretical question about the status of Narrated Discourse in spoken language: Does narrativisation erase the enunciative markers denoting a single individual discourse in order to generalise, to describe a global event? Does it entail distantiation since it focuses less on the content of the reported discourse and more on the event of enunciation, by, amongst other things, erasing the marking of person (pronouns, verbal endings) that one would find in the quoted discourse? The answer would obviously be yes if she were to use a broader definition of Narrated Discourse, since 75% of her examples refer to non-occurrences of events, to virtual events or to events in the making. . . Yet, instead of giving an answer, her conclusion somewhat evades the whole question but points out that most of her Narrated Discourses appear in the co-text preceding other reported discourses (DD, ID), thereby first introducing the reported discourse as a speech event before giving its content. In fact, this demonstrates the broader function exerted by Narrated Discourse, which is to monitor discourse, in other words to present an explicitation of the quoting discourse (Rosier 1999: 232 and infra). Other linguists mention the existence of Narrated Discourse without as many details. Fludernik (1993: 289, 302–4) uses the notions of ‘Speech Report’ and ‘Thought Report’ where “the bare statement that some kind of discourse (external or internal) has taken place is expanded by a description of its content or topic(s) or by a description of the manner in which the utterance was delivered” (289). Chafe (1994: 212–3) speaks of ‘Referred-to-Speech’, which “represents distal language simply by referring to it as a speech event without attempting to represent the language itself ”. He uses a parallel definition for ‘referred-to thoughts’ (Chafe 1994: 219). In her seminal book Transparent Minds: Narrative Modes for Presenting Consciousness in Fiction, Cohn (1978: 11) created the word ‘psycho-narration’ in order to refer to “the narrator’s discourse about a character’s consciousness”. However, although it does mainly refer to what I call Narrated Thought and Attitudes, it is important to note that Cohn sees this term as encompassing Indirect Discourse (‘indirect thought

To the limits of reportability

quotations’, Cohn 1978: 38). In her view, Indirect Thoughts are rarely used in literary narratives and usually “quickly give way to more direct monologic techniques” (ibid.), i.e. to Narrated Thoughts and Attitudes. As I have shown above, there are plenty of different labels to designate the same phenomenon but in general, all definitions seem to agree on the fact that Narrated Discourse merely refers to an enunciative event, with more or less details on the topic and the manner of delivery. These definitions are thus mostly semantic since it is not necessarily obvious to draw a distinction between Narrated Discourse that gives a lot of details on enunciative topics and Indirect Discourse. That is unless one is willing to make a further precision in terms of syntax, noting that Narrated Discourse does not contain reporting clauses (Semino et al. 1997: 30 and see infra). In fact, the real problems arise when one attempts to illustrate the definitions and to locate Narrated Discourse within actual texts. . Syntactic versus semantic definition As I have just shown, one of the main problems raised by the Narrated Discourse category is its demarcation from Indirect Discourse. Because Indirect Discourse can be more or less concise and Narrated Discourse more or less detailed, it is not possible to differentiate these two categories on a semantic basis such as the degree of ‘condensation’. So the syntactic criterion offers a better solution although its use also calls into question other implicit standards underlying traditional definitions of Narrated Discourse. In my classification, I prioritised the syntactic criterion by including in the Indirect Discourse category, any occurrences referring to verbal, cognitive or emotional processes that were expressed through a completive or an infinitival clause while I placed all other occurrences in the Narrated Discourse category (distinct from DD and FID of course).8 Then I divided each of these two categories between speech, thought and attitudes. Figure 11 illustrates the classification process with examples of Narrated Discourses from my spoken French corpus. I am thus taking the view that verbs like croire (‘to believe’) or even savoir (‘to know’) whenever followed by a completive or infinitive clause report an attitude about a particular mental content more explicitly (Indirect Discourse) than they would be doing if they were alone (Narrated Discourse). This classification inserts within the Indirect Discourse category occurrences with attitudinal verbs, which many would classify within the category of Narrated Discourse (see Part I, Chapter 2, Section 3.2). Indeed, Narrated Discourses are often con-





Part I, Chapter 3

Figure 11. Syntactic differences between Indirect and Narrated Discourse Indirect Discourse il fallait [. . .] demander comment ça se passait si on pouvait avoir des réductions + [1]

Narrated Discourse il fallait DEMANDER LE BILLET EUH DEMANDER LES VISITES [1]

Thought

moi je pense que si les étudiants ils continuent comme qu’ils continuent comme ça ils aboutiront [2]

BON JEAN LUI PENSE AUTREMENT [2]

Attitude

je crois c’est dans les neuf cent mille francs [3]

IL LE CROYAIT PAS [6]

Speech

Figure 12. Analysis of spoken French corpus

sidered as automatically including attitudinal verbs, whether or not they are followed by a clause. Once again, that perspective, contrary to mine, privileges a semantic criterion over a syntactic one. However I showed in the previous chapter that it was extremely difficult to distinguish between thoughts and attitudes, unless one takes the drastic decision to consider as reported thought only ‘pure internal speech’ such as is introduced by the verb se dire (Part I, Chapter 2, Section 3 and see infra). The first advantage of this decision is the increase in the number of Indirect Discourses found in the corpus while the thorny question of choice between thoughts and attitudes becomes somewhat secondary (see Figure 12). For example, in my spoken French corpus, instead of examining only 245 occurrences of Indirect Thoughts (in the strict traditional sense), I was able to scrutinise a total of 533 Indirect Thoughts and Attitudes, which gave a much better idea of the representation of ‘mental phenomena’ in discourse and allowed me to compare it more profitably to speech presentation (see Part II, Chapter 1). Note that the numbers given for Narrated Discourses are not entirely representative since I only counted Narrated Discourses present in the co-text of reported discourses. This classification also brought to light the fact that, in order to represent ‘mental phenomena’, partial or minimal verbalisation is preferred to total ver-

To the limits of reportability

Figure 13. Representation of ‘mental phenomena’ Total Verbalisation Partial Verbalisation Minimal Verbalisation DD (FID) ID ND Thoughts (Attitudes) Thoughts-Attitudes (Thoughts) Attitudes – ––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––→ – + [Least used types and categories are in parenthesis]

balisation. Finally, it also confirmed the existence of strong links between certain categories of reported discourse and certain types, as illustrated in Figure 13 (also see previous chapter and Part II, Chapter 1). . How to find Narrated Discourses It is clear that Narrated Discourse hovers at the very borderline of what can be called ‘reported discourse’ and even at the limit of ‘reportability’. Whether it is narrated speech, thought or attitudes, the references to verbal or mental events can be fuzzy and sometimes difficult to differentiate from pure narration. Moreover, some Narrated Discourses can not easily be distinguished as such when surrounded by other categories of reported discourse. In both cases, what is at stake is not only to determine what is or is not Narrated Discourse but also what is next to it... This section will investigate three problems: first the ambiguity between Narrated Discourse and narration caused by lexical polysemy, second the case of Narrated Speech and ‘mixed discourse’ and third the blurring of boundaries between pure narration, Narrated Thoughts/Attitudes and Free Indirect Thoughts.

Ambiguity and Lexical Polysemy. A certain amount of ambiguity might originate in the polysemy of the verba dicendi and sentiendi and other lexical expressions. In some cases, the ambiguity lies in the choice between Narrated Speech and Narrated Thought/Attitudes. This is due to the fact that, as I mentioned earlier, what is sometimes reported as thought and attitudes may be inferred from external simuli (Part I, Chapter 2, Section 3.2). (5) Franke, p. 79 [conversation between a doctor and an alcoholic in a rehab clinic] écoutez à ce moment-là je euh vous demanderais de revenir en consultation ON DÉCIDERA à ce moment-là [Listen then I would ask you to come back to the surgery WE WILL DECIDE then]





Part I, Chapter 3

(6) Gautier A, p. 58 [woman tells about an attempted mugging] + j’ai dit /qu’est-ce, qu’est-ce que/ tu veux il a vu mon sac bon j’ai dit j’ai pas de sous IL LE CROYAIT PAS + [+ I said what do you want he saw my handbag well I said I have no money HE DIDN’T BELIEVE IT +] (7) Le Monde, 22-02-2002, Lionel Jospin, de premier ministre à candidat Le dispositif – la lettre télécopiée à l’AFP – AVAIT ÉTÉ IMAGINÉ de concert, il y a une dizaine de jours, par M. Jospin et le premier secrétaire du PS, François Hollande. [The operation – the letter faxed to The AFP [French Press Agency] – had been dreamt up a few days ago together between M. Jospin and François Hollande, chair of the Socialist Party.]

As is shown in example (7) above, this phenomenon is especially clear in the case of journalistic discourse. Indeed Leech, Short and their team note that ‘Narration of Internal State’ (category parallel to their speech category of Narrative Report of a Speech Act) are only possible in literature since in order to be credible, a journalist can only describe the cognitive and emotional state of an individual based on external factors such as behaviour or speech (Semino et al. 1997: 26–8).9 So they suggest coding occurrences such as the following differently from occurrences of internal states found in their literary corpus: Right-wing ministers are also anxious to see the rebels back in the fold. (press, quoted by Short et al. 1996: 118)

More importantly, lexical polysemy can also create ambiguity between Narrated Discourse and ‘pure’ narration. Some potential verba dicendi and sentiendi and other lexical expressions have other meanings that are not enunciative and one must rely on the co-text and/or the context to interpret them as Narrated Discourses. (8) Mousset, p. 100 [description of an argument between neighbours concerning a parking spot] et alors avec Bob ILS SE SONT ACCROCHÉS + alors le + la bonne femme elle lui a dit + oh ici c’est pas les étrangers qui vont venir faire la loi + il lui a dit c’est interdit vous voyez bien que c’est un garage [so with Bob, THEY HAD A BRUSH + so the woman said to him + oh strangers are not going to rule this place here + he told her it is prohibited you can see that it is a garage]

To the limits of reportability

(9) Ghioldi, p. 12 [conversation between a pharmacist and a friend] S1 beaucoup de femmes viennent sans ordonnance \ et si tu leur dis non \ elles te \ te S2 ELLES FONT UN SCANDALE S1 ELLES FONT UN SCANDALE elles /te, ø/ disent que tu comprends rien que \ que c’est de la bêtise voilà [S1 many women come without a prescription and if you tell them no they S2 THEY MAKE A FUSS S1 THEY MAKE A FUSS they tell you that you don’t understand anything that it is stupid]

Often the confusion is avoided thanks to the fact that a Direct Discourse (19) or an Indirect Discourse (20) directly follows the Narrated Discourse. The problem of polysemy is also particularly acute in the case of perceptions since, as previously shown, verbs such as voir ‘to see’ and sentir ‘to feel’ can sometimes have the meaning of ‘to imagine / to picture’ or ‘to realize’, in which case they are included in the realm of reported discourse (attitudes) while in other cases they would be considered as belonging to pure narration (see Part I, Chapter 2, Section 3.3, examples (22)–(24)).

Relations between Narrated Speech and Direct Speech. Problems in identifying Narrated Discourse also stem from the fact that some Narrated Speeches appear not only with a topic (i.e. NRSAT for Leech, Short and their team) but also with segments in Direct Discourse. Leech, Short and their team call this category NRSAQ but many linguists name it ‘mixed discourse’ (Rosier 1999). Of course segments in Direct Discourse also appear within Indirect Discourse, a phenomenon that will be studied in more details in Part II of this book (Chapter 2 for medieval French literature and Chapter 4 for modern French press). What is meant here by ‘Direct Discourse segment’ varies. It can consist only of a few words that are otherwise integrated to the overall syntactic structure of the quoting discourse (10), (11). These segments are usually signalled by typographical marking only (quotation marks and/or italics) but sometimes appear with non-transposed markers (e.g. notre in (11)).10 (10) Le Monde, 22-02-2002, Lionel Jospin, de premier ministre à candidat [. . .] De son côté, Roselyne Bachelot A ÉVOQUÉ, jeudi 21 février, sur RTL, un “fax glacial”, puis une visite aux “notables socialistes”.





Part I, Chapter 3

[[. . .] For her part, Roselyne Bachelot MENTIONED, on Thursday 21st February, on RTL, a ‘icy fax’, then a visit to “socialist notables”.] (11) Le Monde, 22-02-2002, George Bush sollicite la médiation chinoise Le président américain avait à peine posé le pied à Pékin qu’il REMERCIAIT déjà avec emphase son homologue chinois, Jiang Zemin, pour son “fort soutien dans notre guerre contre la terreur”. [The American president had barely set his foot in Peking that he was already THANKING with emphasis his Chinese counterpart, Jiang Zemin, for his “strong support in our war against terror”.]

Direct Discourses segments that are adjacent to Narrated Discourses can also be much longer (12), (13). In some cases, we interpret them as Direct Discourses only because of typography, since nothing would have changed if they had been integrated in the quoting discourse (12). In other cases, our interpretation relies on non-transposed markers and/or the presence of discursive markers (e.g. vous and eh bien in (13)). (12) Le Monde, 22-02-2002, Lionel Jospin, de premier ministre à candidat Alain Madelin S’EST ÉTONNÉ “de la désinvolture [de M. Jospin], qui consiste à ne pas mettre le contenu concret derrière les quelques mots passepartout qui, pour l’instant, lui tiennent lieu de programme”. [Alain Madelin wondered “about [M. Jospin’s] offhand manner, that consists in not placing any concrete content behind a few catch-all words that, at the moment, serve him as actual agenda”.] (13) Le Monde, 22-02-2002, Lionel Jospin, de premier ministre à candidat Parmi les partisans du premier ministre, Claude Allègre L’A JUGÉ “très en forme”. Dans un entretien au Parisien du 21 février, l’ancien ministre de l’éducation COMPARE M. Jospin au “quetzal, ce magnifique oiseau d’Amérique du Sud qui ne chante pas quand il est en cage ; eh bien, le quetzal s’envole, va chanter et vous surprendra !” [Amongst the Prime Minister’s supporters, Claude Allègre found him “in great shape”. In an interview with The Parisien on 21st February, the former secretary of Education COMPARES M. Jospin to the “quetzal, this beautiful bird from South America that does not sing when it is in a cage; well, the quetzal is flying away, is going to sing and will surprise you!”]

When it appears within Indirect Discourse, the ‘Direct Discourse segment’ can also be taking the place of the full completive clause, coming after a subordination marker such as que, which is why linguists actually call it ‘Direct Discourse with que’ (14), (15).11

To the limits of reportability

(14) Paris Match, 17-07-2002, Le S.O.S. des bijoutiers, p. 105 Isabelle Guichot, P.-d.g. de Van Cleef & Arpels et présidente du Comité Vendôme, souligne que “s’il le faut, nous fermerons nos boutiques sur la Côte d’Azur”. [Isabelle Guichot, CEO of Van Cleef & Arpels and president of the Vendôme Committee, stresses that “if necessary, we will close our boutiques on the Côte d’Azur”.] (15) Le Figaro, 11-07-2002, Projet Sarkozy, p. 6 Sur le même registre, le responsable syndical remarque que “les policiers sont vaccinés contre les promesses non tenues”. [In the same tone, the union representative notes that “police officers have seen their fair share of broken promises”.]

Once again, what characterizes the segments as Direct Discourses is the possible presence of non transposed deictics (e.g. the tenses and personal pronouns of the completive clause) and possibly the use of vocabulary or discursive markers specific to the quoted speaker. However deictics do not always necessarily vary between Direct Discourse and Indirect Discourse or Narrated Discourse, for example in cases where the third person and the present tense would work in both (15). The segments can thus also be indicated through quotation marks and/or italics only and would therefore not be interpreted as such if these marks were removed.12 Actually, as we will see (Part II, Chapter 4) and as Rosier (2002: 31) notes, these more ‘neutral’ occurrences are more widespread, especially when the quoted sources are written documents or official discourses (e.g. spokesperson, anonymous diplomatic sources, etc.). Conversely, Rosier (2002: 31) asserts that the segments are more likely to be explicitly transposed if they originate from specifically known people, which also makes the article more lively.13 Obviously, the use of non transposed deictics is less frequent in Narrated Discourse since in the absence of a completive clause, the marks of person and time tend to be erased anyway (see Mochet 1993a and supra). This means that in written language, Direct Discourse segments adjacent to Narrated Discourses tend to rely on typographical marks only. In spoken language, the same effect could only be mimicked by gesturing in the way of quotation marks, by saying ouvrez les guillemets (‘quote. . . unquote’) or by using expressions such as comme on/il dit (‘as one/he says’). However it is easy to see that these processes are not very natural and certainly not as seamless as they are in written French. This explains why I have not found any Narrated Discourse with a quotation





Part I, Chapter 3

in spoken French (although I did find a few ‘Direct Discourses with que’ where non transposed deictics were very visible).14 Authier-Revuz (1978: 28, 73–4) suggests the term ‘textual islet’ (îlot textuel) to describe fragments in quotation marks that appear in examples (21), (23), (26) above (or fragments with a distancing intonation in spoken French). However she insists on the fact that these are not Direct Discourse fragments (Authier-Revuz 1996: 95–7). For her, such islets are implicitly relaying a commentary on the enunciation such as ‘I say X to take up the words of the locutor l’ (Authier-Revuz 1996: 97, my translation). She calls this phenomenon ‘autonymic modalisation’: the speaker mentions a word while also using it within his/her discourse. However, in Authier-Revuz’s opinion, Direct Discourse must be syntactically separated from the quoting discourse (unlike these fragments) and as such it is inherently autonymic (it shows a discourse but it cannot use it). In her critical approach of this argument, Tuomarla notes that Authier-Revuz seems to consider only examples with short segments within quotation marks as opposed to the many long segments that one can find in the written press (Tuomarla 2000: 158–9). Rosier (1999: 111) also points out that none of her examples do in fact contain untransposed elements (e.g. persons, tenses, deictics). Actually Authier-Revuz (1996: 96) does give a longer example of textual islets (albeit without any transposed marks, similar to (12) above), showing that at least in theory, textual islets are not restricted to isolated syntagms. Moreover, she also acknowledges the existence of transposed fragments (of the type of (11), (13) and (15) above) but she categorically distinguishes them from the textual islets (Authier-Revuz 1996: 97–8).15 In these sentences, she says, there is a ‘slip’ in the control of the quoting speaker over the deictic elements internal to the Indirect Discourse. There is a conflict between syntax and enunciation: the fragment ‘X’ is integrated homogeneously within the sentence’s syntax but some deictic elements are heterogeneous from the enunciative side. She acknowledges that [. . .] on a bien affaire ici – qu’on la caractérise comme ‘fautive’ ou que l’on se contente de l’enregistrer – à une structure ‘mixte’ ou ‘hybride’ en ce sens que les règles qui régissent le fonctionnement du DI [. . .] se trouvent subverties dans le fragment ‘X’. [[. . .] one is indeed dealing here – whether one characterises it as ‘mistaken’ or just records it – with a ‘mixed’ or ‘hybrid’ structure, in the sense that the rules that oversee the functioning of Indirect Discourse [. . .] are being subverted in the fragment ‘X’]. (Authier-Revuz 1996: 98, my translation, her emphasis)

To the limits of reportability

Her very words betray certain reluctance over these examples, which seem to be unnatural and perhaps even exceptional for her: they are breaching rules of langue (language as an abstract system) in order to achieve effects of parole (the language in action). Of course the occurrences of such transposed fragments in the press, in spoken French and in medieval French are there to show that this phenomenon is far from being an exception. Also problematic in my view is the fact that, for Authier-Revuz, the Direct Discourse fragment is a pure mention of discourse and not an use of it, which seems counterintuitive since the fragment is after all syntactically integrated.16 Authier-Revuz is not wrong, however, in separating non transposed fragments such as in (11), (13), (14) from ‘neutral’ ones (10), (12), (15). Indeed, although Rosier (1999: 233–6) says that the use of quotation marks are expressing the discourse of the other and thus linked to ‘literalness’, it is fair to note that in the case of short segments, without transposition, the interpretation of the quotation marks might additionally refer to the main speaker’s own comment on the appropriateness of the term. In examples (10) to (15) above, quotation marks simply show that the locutor-journalist does not take responsibility for the quoted discourse but they do not necessarily carry any other type of metalinguistic judgement on the part of the journalist. In example (16) however, the journalist leaves more room for interpretation: (16) Le Monde, 22-02-2002, George Bush sollicite la médiation chinoise M. Bush S’EST PLEINEMENT FÉLICITÉ du rôle constructif joué par la Chine dans l’apaisement de certains foyers de tension. Une douce musique aux oreilles des dirigeants chinois que n’exaspèrent rien tant que la THÉORIE de la “menace chinoise” VÉHICULÉE par certains cercles républicains aux Etats-Unis. [M. Bush heartily CONGRATULATED himself on the constructive role played by China in appeasing some sources of tension. A sweet tune to Chinese leaders that are exasperated by the “Chinese threat” THEORY CIRCULATED by some republican circles in the United States.]

Here the journalist certainly implies that the Chinese leaders think the words used by some American conservatives are inappropriate but he might even think so himself and shows it by putting these words in quotation marks. Only the knowledge of the context (especially the political position of the newspaper) might help the reader to interpret correctly this case of autonymic modalisation. It is more difficult however to see how longer segments such as in (12) above carry another metalinguistic comments than the explicit attribution of the words to the quoted locutor-enunciator.17



 Part I, Chapter 3

Narrated Discourses with a quotation and Direct Discourse with que seem to be mostly used in journalistic discourse. Leech, Short and their team found almost no occurrences of them in their literary corpus (whether high or ‘low’ literature) while plenty of them were present in their press corpus (whether ‘quality’ press or tabloids).18 As we will see in Part II, journalists use these devices in order to do two things at the same time. On the one hand, they distance themselves from the quoted discourse through the Narrated Discourse or Indirect Discourse apparatus, therefore emphasizing their position as ‘objective reporters’.19 On the other hand, they use the quotation marks to keep the vividness and authenticity of the original discourse, therefore highlighting their skills as storytellers and once again, insisting on the faithfulness of their story (Rosier 1993a, 1995, 1999, 2002; Maingueneau 1998: 130). Rosier (2002) speaks very cleverly about discours surmarqué (‘overmarked discourse’) and hyperrealist effect. Obviously, this explains why the discourses we are dealing with are speeches, not thoughts, since as we have already seen above, thoughts reported in the press can not be seen as authentic, unless they are considered as mental attitudes derived from actual speech (cf. discussion of internal states). The question remaining however is whether some occurrences found in the spoken French corpus should be better analysed as Narrated Speech followed by Free Direct Speech or as a simple verbum dicendi followed by Direct Speech. Mochet (1993a: 103) establishes two rules: any discursive verb followed by a quotation (direct or indirect) is considered as a verb introducing reported discourse. However when the clause is ‘syntactically complete’, it is considered as a Narrated Discourse followed by a Free Direct Discourse. Thus she analyses the following example, as the latter case: on vous reproche un tas de choses faut pas faire ci faut pas faire ça (‘they reproach you for all kinds of things you shouldn’t do this you shouldn’t do that’). In other words, if she were to write this utterance down, she would probably use the following typograpical marks:20 On vous reproche un tas de choses. “Faut pas faire ci, faut pas faire ça.” Narrated Discourse

FDD

instead of On vous reproche un tas de choses: “Faut pas faire ci, faut pas faire ça”. Verbum dicendi

DD

To the limits of reportability

Of course this decision is completely subjective. First because, as we have seen, it is not always easy to recognise what a ‘discursive verb’ is (see se sont accrochés and font un scandale in ex. (8), (9) above). Second because it is not necessarily true that a syntactically complete clause may not introduce a Direct Discourse. It can certainly do so if one of the syntagms can be analysed as an anaphora of the subsequent Direct Discourse, i.e. in Mochet’s example, un tas de choses could be analysed as announcing the Direct Discourse. This interpretation would be clearer with il lui a dit un tas de choses (‘he told her all kinds of things’). The same type of problem can be found in Medieval French texts, where there were no specific typographical marks for reported discourse.21 So in the following example, the modern editor interprets similar sequences (appeler quelqu’un ‘to call somebody’) as either Narrated Speech (17) or introducing Direct Speech (18). (17) La Prise d’Orange, ms AB, verses 214-5 IL L’EN APELE, si li dist par amor: “Amis, beaus frere, mout as bone raison; [. . . ]” [He CALLS him, he says to him with love: “Friend, gentle brother, you speak very rightly; [. . . ]” (18) La Prise d’Orange, ms AB, verse 54 Bertran apele: “Sire niés, ça venés. [. . . ]” [He calls Bertrand: “Sir nephew, come here. [. . . ]”]

When studying the Spoken French or Medieval French corpora, I have analysed most examples such as (29) above as verbum dicendi + Direct Speech. As a matter of fact, most of the Free Direct Speeches of these corpora do not come after a Narrated Speech but within a dialogue, after another Direct Speech (here separated by a square). (19) Chervet, p. 25 [a lawyer describes his interactions with clients that are prison inmates] il le voit IL VOUS INTERROGE il dit / ça va pas maître aujourd’hui
non c’est pas ça va pas j’ai la petite qui est fatiguée [he sees it HE ASKS YOU QUESTIONS he says you are not doing well today sir
no it is not it is not going well my little one is tired]

In a few cases, I found Free Direct Discourses after verbs that were definitely not interpretable as referring to a speech act, e.g. to hear a noise and then react to it (20), to move from one place to another (21), etc.



 Part I, Chapter 3

(20) Lefebvre, p. 14 [radioshow with singer Leo Ferré as guest reminiscing about his life] quand on écoute quand on entendait une voiture on se retournait ah X une voiture qui passe c’est vrai X allez-y maintenant [when we listen whenever we would hear a car we would turn back ah X a car passing by it is true X go on now] (21) Franke, p. 60 [alcoholic describing his relapse] et à Marseilles comme je ne trouvais pas du boulot ben + d’un bar à un autre + tu bois non je bois pas je bois plus euh + euh allez un petit ça te fait pas de mal [and in Marseilles since I could not find a job well from one bar to another + you drink something no I don’t drink anymore euh + come on a little glass it cannot hurt you]

In my corpus, only a few Free Direct Speeches came after Narrated Speeches. In (22), I choose to interpret the sequence il est harcelé as Narrated Discourse because the grammatical subject of the verb is not the same as the speaker uttering the Direct Discourse. In (23), the Narrated Discourse describes what is not spoken about. (22) Chervet, p. 74 [a lawyer describes his interactions with clients that are prison inmates] alors l’avocat IL EST HARCELÉ qu’est-ce qui se passe dans tel dossier ++ [then the lawyer IS PESTERED what is happening in this or that case –] (23) Chervet, p. 67 [a lawyer describes his handling of certain cases in court] l’autre façon de S’EXPRIMER devant le juge c’était de NE PAS PARLER de la loi puisqu’on sait qu’il est obligé de l’appliquer bon ben écoutez c’est la première fois qu’elle a fait ça euh X plaidoirie de connivence [another way of SPEAKING in front of the judge was NOT TO MENTION the law since we know that he has to apply it well listen it is the first time she did this euh connivance plea]

Actually, in Spoken French, Narrated Discourses are often combined with a verbum dicendi introducing other types of reported discourses.22 When preceding quotations, their role is to set the scene: naming the action of speaking before giving the actual content (24), (25). When following Direct or Indirect Discourses, they serve to summarise them and also to signal a return to narration (26). It is typical of the monitoring of information found in spoken discourse.

To the limits of reportability 

(24) Chervet, p. 25 [a lawyer describes his conversations with clients that are prison inmates] il le voit IL VOUS INTERROGE il dit / ça va pas maître aujourd’hui non c’est pas ça va pas j’ai la petite qui est fatiguée [he sees it HE ASKS YOU QUESTIONS he says you are not doing well today sir no it is not it is not going well my little one is tired] (25) Giovannoni, p. 86 [woman speaks about uprisings in the jail where her son is an inmate] donc + immédiatement + le Préfet de police A FAIT UN DÉMENTI À L’A.F.P. en disant que c’était des rumeurs et qu’on ne pouvait pas + prêter attention + à des rumeurs [so + right away + the prefect of police categorically DENIED it to the A.F.P. [French Press Agency] saying that these were rumours and that one should not + pay any attention + to rumours] (26) Cappeau, p. 108 [conversation between a customer and her builder] S1 S2 S1 [S1 S2 S1

en somme il m’a dit J. que vous étiez des on était les premiers clients oui IL ME L’A DIT J. all in all J. told me that you were we were your first customers yes J. TOLD ME SO]

These types of combination also exist in Medieval French (see (17) above). Some texts however go as far as repeating two verba dicendi by adding an inquit formula to the quotation, a phenomenon that is almost completely absent from my Spoken French corpus.23 In some examples, the first verbum dicendi obviously belongs to a ‘syntactically complete clause’ (i.e. Subject Verb Object) and could thus be analysed as Narrated Speech followed by Direct Speech (27), (28). Other examples however are not ‘complete’ and I have classified them in a separate category (29). Note though that here this particular editor has treated examples (27)–(29) in the same way, as if the communicative verb always introduced the Direct Speech (use of colon instead of period).24 (27) La Prise d’Orange, ms CE, verses 84-6 Il en APELE Guïelin et Bertrant, Ses .II. neveus que il par amoit tant: “Enfant, dist il, or oiés mon samblant. [He CALLS Guielin and Bertrand, his two nephews that he loves so much: “Children, he says, now hear what I have to say.]

 Part I, Chapter 3

(28) La Prise d’Orange, ms CE, verses1204-5 Ele APELA son fillastre Arragon: “Fiels, dist la dame, menés les en bele prison; [She CALLED her stepson Arragon: “Son, said the lady, take them to a good jail;] (29) La Prise d’Orange, ms AB, verses 334-5 Ses niés Bertran li commença a dire: “Oncle, fet il, lessiez vostre folie. [His nephew Bertrand began to tell him: “Uncle, says he, leave this madness.]

Narrated Discourse, Free Indirect Discourse and Narration. As we have just seen, Narrated Discourses can sometimes be confused with the introductory clauses of Direct Discourses. Our examples above were mostly Narrated Speeches for two main reasons. First we were dealing with corpora in which reported thoughts are rare (written press, spoken French and medieval French) and second thoughts and attitudes are not often reported in the direct mode. Another source of ambiguity is the difficulty to draw a line between Narrated Discourse, Free Indirect Discourse and so-called ‘pure’ narration. Here our examples will be more often drawn from literature where Free Indirect Discourse is undoubtedly more frequent. We will also deal more with thoughts and attitudes since, as will be shown, it is especially difficult to make a difference between the reporting of a thought/attitude that happened in the past or the description of a state of fact in the past tense (cf. ex. (11) and (12) in Part II, Chapter 1). The following example illustrates this ambiguity very well: do the utterances following the Narrated Discourse in uppercases represent the thoughts of the quoting speaker when the events happened in the past (Free Indirect Discourse) or do they simply characterise past events a posteriori (‘pure’ narration)? (30) Balboa, pp. 20-1 [young man reminisces about his experience as an exchange student in Spain] ++ après on est allé euh en au Corrillo ++ et bon c’était vraiment bien mais déjà IL Y AVAIT UN TRUC QUI M’AVAIT ÉTONNÉ C’ÉTAIT EUH POUR UN DIMANCHE SOIR + EUH DÉJÀ LE MONDE QU’IL Y AVAIT DANS LES RUES ++ c’- c’était dingue le le n- + le nombre de personnes qu’il y avait dans les rues c’était c’était déjà vivant c’était a- + alors que bon euh /Ø, m-/ moi j’avais rarement vu ça ++

To the limits of reportability 

[++ then we went to the Corrillo ++ and so it was really nice but already THERE WAS SOMETHING THAT SURPRISED ME IT WAS EUH FOR A SUNDAY NIGHT + EUH ALREADY THE CROWD IN THE STREETS ++ it was amazing the the + the number of people that were in the streets it was it was already lively it was + but I had rarely seen that ++ ]

As a matter of fact, Free Indirect Discourse is often preceded or followed by Narrated Discourse, whether speech (31), (32) or thought/attitude (33), (34). So much so that some linguists refuse to acknowledge such examples as Free Indirect Discourse by hypothesising the ellipsis of an expression such as en (se) disant que (‘saying (to oneself) that’). (31) Ghioldi, p. 15 [conversation between a pharmacist and a friend] voilà tu vois ce que je veux dire il y a des il y a des vieux que si tu leur dis qu’une boîte de Temesta tu peux pas leur donner \ ILS TE FONT UN SCANDALE tu comprends ils dorment pas sans leur(s) m-médicament(s) voilà tu vois c’est des catégories de médicaments différents mais le problème est le même [there you see what I mean there are old people that if you tell them that you cannot give them a box of Temesta THEY MAKE A FUSS you understand they cannot sleep without their medicine(s) so you see these are different types of medicines but the problem is the same] (32) Lais de Marie de France, Guigemar, verses 645-54 Femme voleient qu’il presist Mes del tut les ESCUNDIST: Ja ne prendra femme nul jur, Ne pur aveir ne pur amur, Se ele ne puet despleier Sa chemise senz depescier. Par Bretaigne VAIT LA NOVELE; Il n’i a dame ne pucele Ki n’i alast pur asaier: Unc ne la porent despleier.

They wanted him to take a wife But he TURNS THEM AWAY: He will never ever marry, Nor for money nor for love If she can not unfold His shirt without damaging it. Across Brittany GOES THE NEWS; There is no lady nor young woman Who would not go there to try it: Never could they unfold it.

(33) Nevchehirlian, pp. 38–9 [conversation about unions’ politics] il y a que quand tu arrives . à être /sûr, sur/ à cinquante ans que TU COMMENCES À TE FAIRE DU SOUCI tu vois euh est-ce que tu as . assez cotisé + euh ff tu commences . à rechercher ce que tu as fait ce que tu as pas fait mais quand tu es jeune bon tu penses qu’à travailler + et tu penses tu penses . à gagner le maximum d’argent [it is only when you turn fifty that YOU BEGIN TO WORRY you see euh

 Part I, Chapter 3

did you save enough + euh you begin to wonder about what you did do what you didn’t do but when you are young well you only think about working + you think you think about making as much money as you can] (34) Le Rouman de l’Estoire dou Graal, verses 713-727 Meis Diex nou MIST PAS EN OUBLI, [. . .] A lui dedenz la prison vint Et son veissel porta, qu’il tint, Qui grant clarté seur lui gita, Si que la chartre enlumina; Et quant Joseph la clarté vist,

But God did not FORGET him [Joseph], [. . .] He came to him inside the jail And he brought his vase [the grail] Which threw a bright light on him, So that it illuminated the cell; And when Joseph saw this brightness, EN SON CUER MOUT S’EN ES- HE REJOICED A LOT IN HIS JOÏST. HEART. Diex son veissel li aportoit, God was bringing him his vase, Ou son sanc requeillu avoit. Where he [Joseph] had collected his blood. De la grace dou Seint Esprist He was filled with the Holy spirit’s grace Fu touz pleins, quant le veissel vist, When he saw the vase, Et dist: “(...)” And said: “(...)”

Even though Narrated Discourse often helps to identify Free Indirect Discourse, it can sometimes be confused with it, as is the case with potentially performative or reflexive verbs such as savoir (‘to know’), refuser (‘to refuse’), demander (‘to ask’), croire (‘to believe’) and souhaiter (‘to wish’) in the following examples (in boxes): (35) Zola, Nana, Chapter 4 Alors, ELLE LÂCHA CE QUI LUI VINT À LA BOUCHE. Oui, oui, elle n’était pas une bête, elle voyait clair . On s’était fichu d’elle pendant le souper, on avait dit des horreurs pour montrer qu’on la méprisait. Un tas de salopes qui ne lui allaient pas à la cheville! Plus souvent qu’elle se donnerait encore du tintouin, histoire de se faire bêcher ensuite! Elle ne savait pas ce qui la retenait de flanquer tout ce sale monde à la porte. Et, la rage l’étranglant, sa voix se brisa dans des sanglots. – Voyons, ma fille, tu es grise, dit Vandeuvres, qui se mit à la tutoyer. Il faut être raisonnable. Non, elle refusait d’avance, elle resterait là.

To the limits of reportability 

Je suis grise, c’est possible. Mais je veux qu’on me respecte. Depuis un quart d’heure, Daguenet et Georges la suppliaient vainement de revenir dans la salle à manger. ELLE S’ENTETAIT, ses invités pouvaient bien faire ce qu’il voudraient; elle les méprisait trop pour retourner avec eux. Jamais, jamais! On l’aurait coupée en morceaux, qu’elle serait restée dans sa chambre. [Thereupon SHE GAVE VENT TO ANY EXPRESSION THAT OCCURRED TO HER. Yes, oh yes she wasn’t a ninny – she could see clearly enough. They had been making devilish light of her during supper, and saying all sorts of frightful things, to show that they thought nothing of her! A pack of sluts, who weren’t fit to black her boots! Catch her bothering herself again, just to be badgered for it after! She really didn’t know what kept her from chucking all that dirty lot out of the house! And, with this, rage choked her, and her voice broke down in sobs. – Come, come, my lass, you’re drunk, said Vandeuvres, growing familiar. You must be reasonable. No, she would give her refusal now; she would stay where she was. – I am drunk – it’s quite likely! But I want people to respect me! For a quarter of an hour past, Daguenet and Georges had been vainly beseeching her to return to the drawing room. SHE WAS OBSTINATE, however; her guests might do what they liked; she despised them too much to come back amongst them. No she never would, never. They might tear her in pieces before she would leave her room!] (translation and punctuation by Henri Peyre, Collier-MacMillan Ltd, London, 1962: 109–110) (36) Zola, Nana, Chapter 2 Mais madame Lerat répétait que le passé était le passé, oh! un sale passé, des choses à ne pas remuer tous les jours. Longtemps elle avait cessé de voir sa nièce; car, dans la famille, on l’accusait de se perdre avec la petite. Comme si c’était Dieu possible! Elle ne lui demandait pas de confidences, elle croyait qu’elle avait toujours vécu proprement. A présent, ça lui suffisait de la retrouver dans une belle position et de lui voir de bons sentiments pour son fils. Il n’y avait encore en ce monde que l’honnêteté et le travail. – De qui est-il, ce bébé? dit-elle en s’interrompant, les yeux allumés d’une curiosité aiguë. [But Madame Lerat declared that the past was the past – oh yes, to be sure, a dirty past with things in it which it was as well not to stir up every day. She had left off, seeing her niece for a long time, because, among the family, she was accused of ruining herself along with the little thing. Good God, as though that were possible! She didn’t ask for confidences, she believed that

 Part I, Chapter 3

Nana had always lived decently, and now it was enough for her to have found her again in a fine position, and to observe her kind feelings towards her son. Virtue and hard work were still the only things worth anything in this world. – Who is the baby’s father?, she said, interrupting herself, her eyes lit up with an expression of acute curiosity.] (translation and punctuation by Henri Peyre, Collier-MacMillan Ltd, London, 1962: 49) (37) Flaubert, Madame Bovary, Part 2, Chapter 3 Cependant, comme Charles, à tous les repas, PARLAIT du marmot, bientôt elle y SONGEA d’une façon plus continue. Elle souhaitait un fils; il serait fort et brun, elle l’appellerait Georges; et cette idée d’avoir pour enfant un mâle était comme la revanche en espoir de toutes ses impuissances passées. [Since, however, Charles did nothing but TALK about the brat at every meal, she soon began to GIVE MORE CONSTANT THOUGHT to it. She longed for a son. He would be strong and dark, and she would call him George. This idea that she might have a male child was a sort of anticipatory compensation for all the frustration of her past life.] (translation and punctuation by Gerard Hopkins, Oxford University Press, Oxford, 1981: 93)

The verbs framed in boxes above are not simply referring to a speech act or a thought act as normal Narrated Discourses would do, but rather are part of Free Indirect Discourses and point to what in the supposedly original character’s discourse might have been performative or reflexive expressions such as je ne sais pas ce qui me retient (‘I don’t know what is keeping me from. . .’), je refuse d’avance (‘I oppose it from the start’), je ne demande pas de confidences (‘I am not asking for confidences’), je crois que (‘I believe that’) and je souhaite un fils (‘I wish for a son’).25 As a matter of fact, what we have here is a Narrated Discourse or even Indirect Discourses embedded in a Free Indirect Discourse. Of course the best proof for this interpretation is that all the above examples occur within chunks of Free Indirect Discourses. It is not so easy however when one deals with shorter segments of (Free) Indirect Discourse, especially when present tenses are used (38) and/or when it is a first-person narrative (39). (38) Ghioldi, pp. 32–3 [conversation between a pharmacist and a friend] et donc /j’ai essayé, j’essayais/ de lui expliquer que sa fille avait raison quoi qu’il fallait pas qu’elle prenne ce genre de médicament(s) ah non non \ je lui /ai dit, dis/ je connais les médicaments elle /me, m’a/ dit je les connais aussi \ ces médicaments je lui ai dit que j’ai dit be alors j’abandonne

To the limits of reportability 

qu’est-ce tu veux dire \ elle connaît mieux le(s) médicament(s) que le pharmacien26 and so I tried to explain to her that her daughter was right that she should not take this type of medication ah no no I said I know these medicines she said I know these medicines too I said that I said well I give up then what do you want to say she knows the medicines better than the pharmacist (39) Lefebvre, pp. 33 [radioshow with singer Leo Ferré as guest reminiscing about his life] je lui dis je suis arrivé avec ma partition j’ai dit voi bonjour monsieur je je viens vous expliquer je lui ai dit euh que je voulais euh s’il pouvait me me donner l’occasion de jouer ça ou de faire jouer ça je m’imposais pas comme chef d’orchestre je savais pas si je l’étais à la radio française avec l’orchestre national
=de la Radio française X c’était un très bon orchestre et euh il me dit la musique ah la musique ah X la musique il faut voir le comité [I said to him I came with my orchestral score I said hello sir I I come to explain I said to him that I wanted euh if he could give me the opportunity to play that or to have it played I was not imposing myself as conductor I did not know whether I was one at the French radio with the national orchestra of the French radio X it was a very good orchestra and euh he says to me for the music ah for the music ah X for the music you have to see the committee]

. Conclusion In conclusion, although the category of Narrated Discourse does indeed reach the limits of what is ‘reportable’, it is impossible to dispense with it. Its relationships with the various categories of reported discourse are all ambiguous and so are its boundaries with ‘pure narration’. My discussion of existing definitions of Narrated Discourse has emphasised the necessity of using syntactic criteria rather than purely semantic criteria such as ‘condensation’ to distinguish it from its closest kind, Indirect Discourse. I also brought to light some implicit assumptions about Narrated Discourse, such as the confusion between types (attitudes, thoughts) and categories (Narrated Discourse, Indirect Discourse). I found it more productive to set a clear syntactic distinction between Narrated Discourse and Indirect Discourse, namely the absence or presence of completive and infinitival clauses, while allowing for the existing semantic fuzziness between thoughts and attitudes (seen in terms of a continuum). This is in line with my belief that, unlike most perceptions, attitudes always

 Part I, Chapter 3

imply a mental process with a specific propositional content (see Part I, Chapter 2, Section 3.3). I have also tried to resolve other types of ambiguities. In certain cases, relying on context can be the only way to solve problems of lexical polysemy and decide whether we are dealing with Narrated Discourse or pure narration. Moreover, I have shown that, like Indirect Discourse, Narrated Discourse can also embody segments in Direct Discourse, notably in order to fit certain specific journalistic strategies. However, the ‘mixing’ of Narrated Speech and Direct Speech does not seem to work in contexts where there is no recourse to typographical marks (e.g. spoken language and medieval texts). In that case, potential Narrated Speeches (i.e ‘syntactically complete’ clauses with verbum dicendi or similar lexical expressions) are most often not interpreted as such but as simple introductory clauses for Direct Speeches. Finally in the case of Free Indirect Discourses, I have identified and analysed possibly confusing occurences containing expressions that refer to potentially reflexive or performative expressions. In summary, while not eliminating all ambiguity, I believe that I have suggested possible criteria that might help us to understand better the continuum between the different types of S&TP categories. The above discussion has thus stressed the necessity for this continuum but only if it is based on solid formal and contextual criteria.

. ‘Press Conditional’, Selon X, etc. Narrated Discourse is not the only form that calls into question the boundaries between what is and is not reported discourse. Markers such as the ‘Press conditional’ and expressions like selon X (‘according to’) do not only report utterances but also modalise their enunciation, i.e. they express the locutor’s attitude about the truth, the reliability or the degree of certainty of what is being spoken about. A traditional (if implicit) view is that if these markers’ role is primarily to modalise, they should not be considered as reported discourse and accordingly they are rarely included in traditional studies about the topic.27 However, in my opinion, it is indeed because they are marking discourse as coming from another source (i.e. as being reported) that these markers achieve modalisation. Additionally, there is ample ground for saying that any form of reported discourse (even dire + Direct Discourse) also modalise the enunciation, which is why they play such an important role both in narrative sequences and in argumentative sequences (a fact long overlooked by reported discourse scholars).28 Of course, it is not fortuitous that markers such as selon X and

To the limits of reportability

‘press conditional’ are more likely to be found in journalistic discourse than in literature or in spoken conversation (hence the name of the latter) since that genre is especially concerned with the truth and the reliability of information. . The ‘Press conditional’ In French, the so-called ‘press conditional’ corresponds to a certain form of the verb also used as future of the past but it does not have a formal equivalent in the English language, where it can only be translated with additional expressions that would be redundant in French, as illustrated in the following example:29 (40) Six appareils auraient été abattus (L’Express, quoted by Coltier & Dendale, 2004) [According to certain sources / it is said that / we have heard that/ six planes were shot down].

Dendale (1993: 165) sees the conditional as having three main features: (A) Indicating some degree of uncertainty about the piece of information (Modal feature) (B) Indicating that the piece of information originates from a discourse other than the locutor’s (Evidential feature) (C) Indicating that the locutor does not take responsibility for the utterance (Alethic feature)

These three features are all epistemic in the sense that they are directly concerned with the degree of confidence we can have in the piece of information or knowledge expressed in a given utterance.30 This is why Dendale (1993) and Coltier and Dendale (2004) use the term ‘epistemic conditional’ in order to refer to what others call ‘press conditional’ (conditionnel de presse or conditionnel journalistique). There are discussions as to which of the above properties is predominant. For Coltier and Dendale (2004), the most important feature is evidential, i.e. this type of conditional always entails a reporting from a different origin than the locutor (although of course it could be the locutor as enunciator in the past) while the modal and alethic properties are not indispensable. For others, such as Celle (2004) based on Culioli (1978) and Abouda (1997, 2001), the constitutive feature is alethic, i.e. the locutor never vouches for the truth of the utterance. In my opinion, trait (A), the lack of certainty, is a consequence of traits (B) and (C) and as such, it is not necessary. However the evidential and





Part I, Chapter 3

alethic traits are intrinsically linked and I find it difficult to rate one higher than the other.31 I think it more important to focus on the lack of equivalent structure in English, which makes the translation very complex. For example, in (41) below, Celle (2004) notes that the use of conditional in the French translation of the English novel adds the point of view of the quoting speaker, with comparison to what it would be in the indicative or without any verb (like in the English original). (41) Examples quoted by Celle (2004) People say that there is no such thing as frigid women, only incompetent men. (I. Welsh, Trainspotting, p. 76) Y a des gens qui disent qu’une chose comme une femme frigide, ça n’existe pas. Il n’y aurait que des hommes incompétents. (Trainspotting, p. 90)

Here the conditional expresses the speaker’s disagreement, which was only implicit in English: people say that but I do not agree with them. In fact this interpretation can be seen a result of overmarking. Since the conditional is not indispensable in the sentence in order to signal another origin (the source ‘people’ was acknowledged in the previous sentence), its presence must have an added meaning (that of disagreement). Contrary to what Celle suggests, the rejection of responsibility on the part of the quoting speaker would thus be a consequence of overmarking (contextual) rather than an essential value of the press conditional. Example (53) taken from my press corpus offers a similar example of overmarking. (42) Ici Paris, Ophélie Winter, p. 8 [speaking about a couple of celebrities] Au point que, mi-juin, certains journaux ANNONCENT officiellement leur séparation. Leur belle love story n’aurait duré que cinq petits mois et la jeune femme après avoir décidé de mettre un terme à leur histoire, serait de nouveau un cœur à prendre. . . En fait, la chanteuse et le comique n’ont jamais cessé de s’aimer. [To the point that, mid-June, some newspapers officially ANNOUNCE their separation. [Apparently], their nice love story had lasted only five short months and, after deciding to end the affair, the young woman’s heart was up for grabs again . . . In fact, the singer and the comedian never stopped loving each other. . .]

While the first utterance explicitly names another source ‘some newspapers’, the magazine Ici Paris continues with a Free Indirect Discourse and a conditional, highlighting the fact that it was their competitors speaking and that

To the limits of reportability

they were wrong, as the next sentence underlines. In the English translation, this type of overmarking is conveyed by the modaliser ‘apparently’.32 It is important to note that press conditional per se does not entail a specific reference to the source of the S&TP, nor does it explicitly mention the act of reporting, contrary to what we usually deem to be reported discourse.33 These details can be conveyed by the immediate context such as in (41), (42) above but they do not have to be (40). In the English translation, the value of the press conditional has to be expressed through a reference to the source, however vague (e.g. ‘according to some sources’) or to the activity (e.g. ‘it is reported that’). . Selon X, d’après X, pour X Expressions such as selon X, d’après X, pour X, etc. (‘according to’) also have modal, evidential and alethic features and like for the conditional, Coltier and Dendale (2004) consider the evidential property as predominant. However, they see it as different from the conditional because it does not always show that the piece of information or knowledge is repeated from somebody else’s discourse but it can also be inferred from another type of source. (43) Selon mon thème astral, je ne devrais pas avoir de succès professionnel ce mois-ci. a. According to my astral theme, I should not have much professional success this month. b. Based on my astral theme, I should not have much professional success this month.

In the first interpretation (translation a), the speaker has read her horoscope and interprets it as saying that she will not be lucky. In the second one (translation b), the speaker has made her horoscope herself and bases her prediction on her data (an external source).34 In that case, we are thus not dealing with S&TP. Although selon X, d’après X and pour X can be roughly translated by ‘according to X’ in English, these three expressions are not used in the same exact way. Some linguists have noted that selon X and d’après X (‘according to X’) differ from pour X (‘for X’) in that they can not express un-verbalised thoughts. This is why Charolles deems (44) and (46) impossible (Charolles 1987: 253, quoted in Coltier & Dendale 2004).





Part I, Chapter 3

(44) *Selon R. Barre, la cohabitation est un échec, mais il se garde bien de le dire. According to R. Barre, cohabitation is a failure but he sure avoids saying it. (45) Pour R. Barre, la cohabitation est un échec, mais il se garde bien de le dire. For R. Barre, cohabitation is a failure but he sure avoids saying it. (46) *Selon un chat, toutes les souris ne se ressemblent pas. According to a cat, all mice are not alike. (47) Pour un chat, toutes les souris ne se ressemblent pas. For a cat, all mice are not alike.

In fact, going back to our continuum external speech → internal speech (thought) → attitudes, we could say that while selon X and d’après X steer more towards the pole of external speech, pour X can (but does not have to) point towards the other end. This could also explain why pour X cannot be used with nouns such as rumeur (‘rumour’), dire (‘saying’), etc. while selon X and d’après X can (48), (49)]. (48) Nouvel Observateur, 11 to 17-07-2002, Les sornettes de “l’Effroyable Imposture”, p. 71 En 1947 naissait la rumeur selon laquelle l’armée américaine aurait capturé les occupants extraterrestres d’une soucoupe volante tombée près de la base de Roswell, au Nouveau-Mexique. [In 1947, started the rumour according to which the American army had captured aliens found in a flying saucer fallen near the Roswell military base in New Mexico.] (49) Marianne, 8 to 14-07-2002, Les grandes escroqueries de l’histoire, p. 43 Et que dire de Victor Lustig alias “le comte Louis” qui, en 1925, muni d’une fausse carte tricolore, se présenta comme l’adjudicateur désigné par la municipalité de Paris pour vendre au plus offrant les 7000 tonnes de fer de la tour Eiffel promise, d’après ses dires, à une démolition prochaine. [And what to say about Victor Lustig alias “count Louis” who, in 1925, holding a fake official card, introduced himself as the auctioneer chosen by the town of Paris in order to sell to the highest bidder the 7000 tons of the Eiffel Tower that was, according to what he said, to be shortly demolished.]

However this is not as clear-cut as it seems since selon X can definitely be used with internal speech (50) and can perfectly be substituted to pour X in similar contexts (51), (52).

To the limits of reportability

(50) Stendhal, Le Rouge et le Noir, Book 1, Chapter 5 – Jamais! Vous savez qu’à l’église je ne vois que Dieu, ajouta Julien, avec un petit air hypocrite, tout propre, selon lui, à éloigner le retour des taloches. [Never! You know that in church I only see God, added Julien, with a slightly hypocritical expression that was appropriate, in his opinion, to avoid more clouts.] (51) Marianne, 8 to 14-07-2002, Les grandes escroqueries de l’histoire, p. 51, Headline Selon “l’Action française” , si Stavisky peut agir en toute impunité c’est que les Blum et les Mandel sont ses complices. [According to the “Action française” , if Stavisky can act with complete impunity, it is because people like Blum and Mandel are his accomplices.] (52) Marianne, 8 to 14-07-2002, Les grandes escroqueries de l’histoire, p. 51, Body of the same article Pour l’Action française , si Alexandre Stavisky peut agir en toute impunité, c’est qu’il compte des coreligionnaires à la Chambre. Qu’importe si les plus marquants n’ont aucun rapport avec les combines de Stavisky. Le raisonnement est imparable. Puisqu’il y a un escroc juif, les Blum et les Mandel sont donc coupables. For the Action française , if Alexandre Stavisky can act with complete impunity, it is because he has coreligionists in parliament. It does not matter that the most important ones have nothing to do with Stavisky’s schemes. The reasoning is irrefutable. Since there is a Jewish crook, people like Blum and Mandel are guilty.

Moreover, in the case of selon moi (‘according to me’), one has to go back to the question of auto-representation and theatricalisation raised in Part I, Chapter 2, Section 4.3. In that case, the use of the first person seems to drag selon X further towards internal thoughts. (53) Stendhal, Le Rouge et le Noir, Book 2, Chapter 31 [comment made by the narrator about the hero] C’est, selon moi, l’un des plus beaux traits de son caractère; un être capable d’un tel effort sur lui-même peut aller loin, si fata sinant. [It is, in my opinion, one of his most beautiful characteristics, a human being able to force himself so thoroughly can go far, si fata sinant.]

Interestingly, in my oral corpus there are only four examples of selon X (three in the same text), all with a third person while the rare examples of pour





Part I, Chapter 3

X are mostly in the first person (5 occurrences in the first person against 3 occurrences in the third person).35 (54) Tscharner, p. 34 [Mock trial: the lawyer describes his client’s behaviour] selon Rita Aimé + notre homme semble surexcité + il parle seul et proférerait des menaces de mort + à l’encontre de Régine + ou d’un membre de sa famille + [according to Rita Aimé + our man seems overexcited + he speaks to himself and supposedly utters death threats + against Régine + or against one of her family members +] (55) Selin, p. 5 [a young woman describes how she was nearly run over by a car] je dis pas que je me suis vue morte ou quoi pas du tout mais je me la suis vue dessus je je je l’ai vue + pour moi elle me passait dessus si je m’enlevais pas elle me passait sur le corps quoi j’ai eu le temps de voir le dessous quoi [I am not saying that I saw myself dead or anything but I saw it running over me I I saw it + for me it was going to run me over if I could not get away it was going to run my body over I had time to see underneath it]

While d’après X behaves similarly to selon X, with regards to pour X, Charolles (1987: 255) notes that it tends to express a rather approximate interpretation of the quoted discourse. As such, it is less likely to be followed by a segment in quotation marks, which would purport to reproduce the literal content of the quoted discourse. Indeed I did not find any occurrence of d’après X with Direct Discourse in my corpora of press articles and spoken French but Rosier found at least one in her press corpus (1999: 88). We are thus dealing with a trend rather than a strict rule. In the following examples, the approximations are very clear since the quoting speakers are summarising and interpreting the discourses of an addressee (56) or of themselves in the past (57). (56) Nevchehirlian, p. 4 [conversation about unions’ politics] tu crois que c’est la seule explication + donc c’est simplement de la mauvaise foi de du patron + d’après ce que tu me dis + il y a eu d’autres explications il y a il y a eu d’autres [you think that’s the only explanation + so it’s simply bad faith on the boss’s part + from what you’re saying + there were other explanations there were others] (57) Savelli, p. 25 [speaker talks about his childhood and the religious holidays celebrated by his Corsican grand parents.] ma grand-mère si tu veux + elle + ELLE SE RECONNAISSAIT dans Jésus-Christ /par-, par/ + parce que + Jésus-Christ avait été généreux

To the limits of reportability

comme l’étaient eux-mêmes ils étaient généreux or moi me semble-t-il + d’après ce que je comprenais + /c’est que, ce que/ les fêtes étaient beaucoup des fêtes religieuses + fêtes religieuses entendu + mais pas + fêtes dévotes + religieuses mais pas dévotes [my grand mother if you want + she + she saw herself in Jesus Christ + because Jesus Christ was generous as they were themselves + now in my opinion it seems to me + based on what I could understand+ these celebrations were often religious + yes religious + but not devout celebrations + religious but not devout +]

Of course, when expressions such as selon X, pour X and, more rarely, d’après X introduce a Direct Discourse, it is difficult to see the difference with any other normal verbum dicendi in terms of modalisation. Yet, the rarity of these expressions in narrative texts (especially in spontaneous spoken discourse and in literary fiction) compared to their use in the serious press (as opposed to gossip magazines or women magazines) shows that it has an emphasised value, in the same way maybe as mixed discourse have: they both distance the speaker maximally from the quoted utterance while also giving the utterance in quotation marks a more ‘authentic’ feel.36 (58) Nouvel Observateur, 11 to 17-07-2002, Biens culturels: internet casse les prix, p. 60 Pour lui, “acheter sur ces sites est aussi un moyen de se constituer rapidement une vidéothèque bon marché”. [For him, “buying on these web sites is also a way to gather rapidly a cheap video collection.”]

In certain examples of Free Indirect Discourse such as (55) above and (59) below, the expression selon X could be said to work like inquit formulae do, since both can be taken out of the Free Indirect Discourse without changing the fact that it is reported. (59) Zola, Nana, Chapter 6 Des histoires singulières couraient au sujet de la domination exercée dans la maison par l’ancien avoué. Fauchery, que son arrivée gênait sans doute, expliquait à Georges et à Daguenet les sources de sa fortune, un gros procès dont les Jésuites l’avaient chargé, autrefois; et, selon lui, ce bonhomme, un terrible monsieur avec sa mine douce et grasse, trempait maintenant dans tous les tripotages de la prêtraille. [Indeed, singular stories were told about the kind of dominion which the ex-lawyer enjoyed in that household. Fauchery, whom his arrival doubt-





Part I, Chapter 3

less embarrassed, began explaining to Gorges and Daguenet the origin of the man’s wealth. It was a big lawsuit, with the management of which the Jesuit had entrusted him in days gone by. In his opinion, the worthy man was a terrible fellow, despite his gentle plump face, and at this time of day had his finger in all the intrigues of the priesthood.] (translation and punctuation by Henri Peyre, Collier-MacMillan Ltd, London, 1962: 172)

Finally, it is also interesting to note that the conditional can be combined with expressions such as selon X, d’après X, pour X or appear inside an Indirect Discourse. By flouting Grice’s maxim of quantity, this ‘overmarking’ of reported discourse could be used to insist on some other features expressed by the conditional. (60) Selon notre correspondant, la majorité de ces exécutions serait due à des règlements de compte dans le milieu. (quoted by Coltier & Dendale 2004) (61) X dit que la majorité de ces exécutions serait due à des règlements de compte dans le milieu.

Once again, the above examples cannot be accurately translated into English due to the lack of any equivalent to the French press conditional. The closest approximations would be: (60 ) a.

According to our correspondent, the majority of these killings is due to disputes in the underworld (but we cannot vouch for that). b. According to our correspondent, the majority of these killings appear to be due to disputes in the underworld (that’s how it looks like but she is only interpreting what she saw or heard).

(61 ) a.

Our correspondent says that the majority of these killings are due to disputes in the underworld (but we cannot vouch for that). b. Our correspondent says that the majority of these killings appear to be due to disputes in the underworld (that’s how it looks like but she is only interpreting what she saw or heard).

Contrary to the lexical item ‘appears’ in the English translation, the conditional can mean two things at once or separately. In the first set (a), the correspondent (secondary enunciator) firmly believes her statement while the main journalist (locutor) attributes the statement to her but does not vouch for it. In the second set (b), the journalist simply attributes the statement to the correspondent who bases her statement on other sources and therefore does not personally vouch for it.37 While the first interpretation (a) does not work well in this particular example because it would be rare for a newspaper to distrust their

To the limits of reportability

own correspondent, it works if the quoted source is less dependable, e.g. an official (62), anonymous people (63), or a clearly unreliable witness ((64) in spoken French). (62) Marie Claire, July 2002, Pédophilie, p. 201 Plusieurs parents affirment avoir reconnu leur enfant sur le CD-Rom Ulrich. Pour la chancellerie , ils se seraient trompés. C’est possible; reste que ces enfants semblent bel et bien avoir été victimes d’un trafic d’images pédophiles. [Several parents claim to have identified their children on the Ulrich CD-Rom. For the chancellery, they are wrong apparently. It is possible; the fact remains that these children definitely seem to have been victims of the trafficking of pedophile pictures.] (63) Voici, 8-14-07-2002, Elle court elle court la rumeur, p. 9 Selon des oreilles indiscrètes, le génie de Hollywood aurait envie de construire un parc d’attractions autour des épatantes productions des studios DreamWorks. [According to some indiscrete ears, the Hollywood genius would like to build a theme park around the wonderful productions of Dream Works Studios.] (64) Tscharner, p. 34 [Mock trial: the lawyer describes his client’s behaviour before his alleged crime] selon Rita Aimé + notre homme semble surexcité + il parle seul et proférerait des menaces de mort + à l’encontre de Régine + ou d’un membre de sa famille + comment se fait-il et je le répète + que Rita Aimé étant proche de mon client + et de surcroît accompagnée + soit la seule à entendre de tels propos ++ d’ailleurs si mon client avait proféré véritablement de telles paroles + ne croyez-vous pas monsieur le président + que la surexcitation dont il est fait état ici + étant telle + aurait pu avoir des conséquences très fâcheuses + voire immédiates sur la personne de Mariani Auguste + [according to Rita Aimé + our man seems overexcited + he speaks to himself and supposedly utters death threats + against Régine + or against one of her family members + how is it and I repeat it + that Rita Aimé standing close to my client + and moreover being accompanied + was the only one that heard such words ++ in any case if my client had really uttered such words + don’t you think your honour + that this alleged overexcitement + being such + could have lead to unfortunate consequences + not to say immediate ones against the person of Auguste Mariani]



 Part I, Chapter 3

Moreover, it is interesting to note that although theoretically possible, it seems more difficult to combine selon moi (‘according to me’) with the conditional. In that case, indeed, the locutor would be both presenting the utterance as coming from locutor-λ(as person of the world) while not taking charge for it as locutor-L (qua locutor) and thus emphasising the probable nature of the utterance rather than its certainty. It would give us an example like the following (possible but not attested in my corpus): (65) Selon moi, ce serait un problème de température (mais je pourrais me tromper) [According to me, it might be a problem of temperature (but I could be wrong).]

. Other modalisation markers There are other markers that can be seen as both reporting discourse and modalising their enunciation. Rosier (1999) classifies them in two categories. On the one hand, she groups the so-called ‘press conditional’ with expressions like il paraît que (‘apparently’), paraît-il (‘it seems’), on dit/ dit-on (‘it is said that’), soi-disant que (‘it would appear that’), soi-disant (‘supposedly’, ‘so-called’), prétendu (‘alleged’, ‘so-called’), présumé (‘alleged’). I would add comme quoi to the list.38 Like the conditional, these expressions mark discourse as coming from another source but without attributing it to a precise speaker, what Rosier calls distantiation without attribution (1999: 172–83). Unlike the conditional, some of these markers do mention the activity of reporting : on dit/ dit-on (literally ‘one says’), soi-disant (literally ‘presenting/calling itself as’), prétendu (‘alleged’, ‘so-called’), présumé (‘alleged’). However, the most important feature here is that these expressions, as the press conditional, allow for the source of the reported discourse (i.e. its enunciator) not to be indicated. We are thus oscillating from an ‘anonymous doxa’ in the absence of any contextual precision (Rosier 1999: 177) to gradually more explicit references, especially when the immediate context contains narrated discourses or expressions such as selon, d’après, etc. (66) Mousset, p. 21 [conversartion between friends] + deux jours après ON ÉTAIT TOUTES CONVOQUÉES dans le bureau de Machin comme quoi il y avait des personnes étrangères qui prenaient le car et qui travaillaient pas à l’usine TU TE RENDS COMPTE [+ two days later we were all called into Machin’s office on the grounds that

To the limits of reportability

there were outside people that were taking the bus and were not working at the factory CAN YOU IMAGINE]

These expressions can also be combined with the conditional or within an Indirect Discourse and this overmarking might convey more modalisation in terms of doubt as to the truth of, or disagreement with, the reported discourse. (67) Savelli, pp. 12–3 [the speaker explains why his father migrated from Corsica to work in continental France after coming back from WWII and having lost all his farming income home] ++ voyant qu’il s’était apprauvi- qu’il ne pouvait pas remonter le courant ++ et + incité + également par les clans + à à une v- une autre vie qui soi-disant serait meilleure + lui apporterait beaucoup plus de prospérité ++ de + enfin tout tout le le le grand tralala + on lui avait fait + le + le le coup du + du du grand tralala en lui disant vous verrez ça se passera bien ++ allez à tel endroit + i- + on a besoin de main-d’oeuvre + et il a été ++ dirigé pratiquement par + des gens du clan [++ seeing that he had become impoverished – that he could not get back on his feet ++ and encouraged + also by the clans + towards another life that supposedly would be better + would bring him much more prosperity ++ and all the trimmings + they had pulled all the stops out telling him you’ll see it will go well ++ go to such a place ++ they need labour ++ and he was virtually directed by people of the clan]

On the other hand, Rosier (1999: 183–200) distinguishes expressions similar to selon X, d’après X, pour X, that attribute discourse to another source while also introducing a certain ‘critical assessment’ (pesée critique) on the part of the quoting speaker: au dire de / selon les dires de (‘according to’), suivant X (‘according to X’), à son avis (‘in his opinion’), à l’entendre (‘according to’, literally ‘listening to him’), à l’en croire (‘if we are to believe him’), si on en croit X (‘if you believe X’), à leurs yeux (‘in their eyes’) and, based on my corpus, I would add de l’aveu de (‘on the admission of ’), dans l’esprit de (‘in the mind of ’), de source officielle/ officieuse (‘from an official/unofficial source’). The emphasis is on the attribution of discourse to a certain source (precise or vague) but not on the activity of reporting (contrary to ‘classical reported discourse’) although there are allusions to the ‘work’ of the quoting speaker on the quoted discourse, which Rosier calls ‘critical assessment’. By this, Rosier means that we are given precisions about the type of discourse (e.g. thought and attitude for pour X, internal or external speech for selon X d’après X, and à son avis) while also being told that the reported discourse is an approximation on the part of



 Part I, Chapter 3

the quoting speaker (d’après X, au dire de X), or based on an inference (à l’en croire ‘if we are to believe him’ / si on en croit X ‘if you believe X’) or even the result of a perception (à l’entendre literally ‘listening to him’).39 In conclusion, it is because these two types of expressions are reporting utterances (showing the enunciation as based on something that does not come from the quoting speaker) that they modalise what is being said at the time it is being said. Note that they are all susceptible to be accompanied by segments in quotation marks (whether transposed or untransposed), some more than others (e.g. selon and pour), which rightly put them on the same level as ‘traditional’ categories of reported discourse. Like ‘traditional’ categories of reported discourse, these expressions highlight what was, could or will be said but, unlike them, they do not emphasise the process of uttering X (conjugated verbum dicendi/sentiendi). Rather they stress who said X in the case of selon, d’après and similar expressions or the fact that it was said by somebody else (without precision) in the case of ‘press conditional’, soi-disant, etc. The insistence on the attribution to somebody else distances the quoting speaker from the quoted discourse, notably by giving it more gravitas (according to the official report, to the experts, to the common knowledge, etc.) or by highlighting the potential unreliability of the source (according to some, according to a common belief, etc.). This type of modalisation explains why these expressions are clearly more used in the press and in formal spoken discourse (e.g. legal or journalistic speech) because it has more of an argumentative function than a narrative one.

. Conclusion As was shown above, both narrated discourse and modalisers like the so-called ‘press conditional’ and expressions such as selon X must be envisaged as crucial mechanisms in S&TP strategies. Although there is ground to distinguish them from more canonical categories of reported discourse, they are intrinsically linked to them and cannot be ignored, especially if one chooses to envisage reported discourse in a very broad perspective (as I did in the previous chapter) and in a very diversified corpus (as I will do in the second part of this book). In order to differentiate ‘traditional’ categories of reported discourse from these more ‘extreme’ categories, I suggest envisaging the term ‘Speech and Thought Presentation’ as encompassing all categories while using the term ‘reported discourse’ only for Direct Discourse, Indirect Discourse, Free Indirect Discourse and Free Direct Discourse (and hybrids such as ID with quotation

To the limits of reportability

marks, DD with que, Neutral Discourse). To my mind, this is more of a formal distinction than a semantic one since I consider all categories as doing some reporting, albeit at different levels. The inclusion of ‘borderline’ cases such as narrated attitudes (e.g. je me rappelle plus in (3) above) might be seen as overstretched by some. Does it mean then that almost everything is S&TP? My first – conservative – answer is that I am taking this category into account only inasmuch as it helps me to recognize other categories such as Free Indirect Discourse, for example. The second – more polemical – answer is that indeed S&TP encompasses a vast part of discourse: we ARE constantly referring to what we or other say, think or feel. Which is why it is so essential and enlightening to study its strategies, as I will do in the second part of this book.40

Notes . Although Genette gives examples of both speech and thought when introducing the notion of Narrated Discourse, French scholars tend to use it only with regards to speech: de Gaulmyn (1989), Mochet (1993a), Perret (1997: 13–4), Rosier (1999: 130, 228–33), SulletNylander (1996, 1998, 2004). . Chafe 1994, Fludernik 1993, de Gaulmyn 1989, Leech et al. 1997, Leech and Short 1981, McHale 1978, Mochet 1993a, Short et al. 1996, Perret 1997, Rosier 1999: 231–3, Semino et al. 1997, Short et al. 1997, Waugh 1995, Wynne et al. 1998. . Inasmuch as such a thing exists (Rabatel 2004). . It is also called ‘Narrator’s Representation of a Speech Act’ in some of their articles (e.g. in Semino et al. 1997). . Rosier (1999) does not study Narrated Thoughts. . Sullet-Nylander (1996, 1998, 2004), who studies press articles in Le Monde, Le Figaro and Libération, also uses that definition. In earlier works, she appears to exclude other more condensed forms (what Leech and Shord would call Narrative Report of Voice) by creating a different category mention de prise de parole (‘mention of speech act’) but she seems to merge these two categories in her later article (2004). . For these and other examples, see Mochet 1993a: 97, 123–5. . As I said supra (Part I, Chapter 1, Section 3), in my interpretation, Indirect Discourse is not always introduced by a verb but can also be introduced by a lexical expression reporting speech or thought, followed by a completive or an infinitival clause, e.g. à l’annonce que/de (‘At the news that /of ’), à l’idée que (‘at the thought that / of ’), etc. Note that some linguists tend to leave infinitival clauses out of the category of Indirect Discourse and to include them de facto in the Narrated Discourse category, e.g. de Arruda (1992), de Gaulmyn (1983), Fludernik (1991: 293), Mochet (1993a: 99), Sullet-Nylander (1996, 1998, 2004)).



 Part I, Chapter 3 . Narration of Internal State (NI) are “cases where the narrator reports a character’s emotional or cognitive experiences without representing any specific thoughts” (Semino et al. 1997: 26).

Now that they had left Naples way behind them, she felt increasingly less secure. (Julian Barnes, quoted by Wynne et al. 1998: 242) I reflected for a minute or two. (Somerset Maugham, quoted by Short et al. 1996: 118) Leech, Short and their team present two other Narrated Thoughts and Attitudes categories parallel to their speech categories, but without giving precise examples: Narrator’s Representation of Thought Act (NRTA) and Narrator’s Representation of Thought Act with a Topic (NRTAT). They also use the term ‘Narrative Report of a Thought Act’ (e.g. Leech et al. 1997: 95). . Note that in some cases these segments in quotation marks do not even appear next to a Narrated Discourse:

Ici Paris, 09-07-2002, Les pompes de Nicole, p. 7 Nicole Kidman cherchait désespérément, de magasin en magasin, une paire de souliers “assez confortables pour pouvoir danser jusqu’au bout de la nuit.” [Nicole Kidman was frantically seeking, from store to store, a pair of shoes “comfortable enough to dance all night long.”] Maingueneau (1998: 132) calls ‘summaries with quotation’ strategies whereby the summary of a whole discourse is interspersed with fragments in the actual words used by the quoted speaker. However, although this concept refers to actual strategies used by journalists, these ‘fragments’ can also appear outside summaries. I will call ‘textual islets’ all occurrences of segments in quotation marks that contain one or more syntagms, do not constitute a whole utterance and appear in an independent clause without any other type of S&TP. . Many scholars have studied ‘Direct Discourse with que’ (or mixed discourse as it is often called), albeit in the written press rather than in the spoken language: Bruña-Cuevas (1996), de Gaulmyn (1983), Maingueneau (1998: 129–33), Marnette (1999, 2003), Rosier (1993a, 1995, 1999, 2002), Torck (1999), Tuomarla (2000: 145–156), Waugh (1995). Note that for Sullet-Nylander (2004) the use of a segment with quotation marks automatically places an occurrence outside of the category of Narrated Discourse since Narrated Discourse is foremost defined by the fact that it is a complete reformulation of the original discourse. For her, all examples of segments in Direct Discourses (whether with Indirect Discourse or Narrated Discourse) belong to the category of ‘mixed discourses’. . In the press, one can also find occurrences where the segment in the quotation marks is indeed transposed and could not be described as a Direct Discourse. In those cases, there is a discordance between the morpho-syntax (transposed deictics) and the punctuation (quotation marks). Rosier (1999, 2002) calls them ‘Indirect Discourse with quotation marks’:

Le Monde, 11-07-2002, Les élus du conseil de Paris, p. 8 Plus tôt dans la journée, le maire avait souligné que “tous ses collaborateurs gagnent plus que lui.”

To the limits of reportability

[Earlier in the day, the mayor had emphasised that “all his collaborators make more money than he does.”] One can also find Narrated Discourses of a similar type:

Le Monde, 22-02-2002, Lionel Jospin, de premier ministre à candidat Le candidat de Démocratie libérale OPÈRE UNE DISTINCTION entre “ceux qui comme [lui] se présentent devant les Français avec un projet précis et ceux qui se contentent d’idées générales” [The candidate for Liberal Democracy MAKES A DISTINCTION between “these like [him]who present themselves in front of the French people with a precise project and those that content themselves with general ideas”.] Here the reconstruction in comme [lui] (‘like him’) instead of what was presumably comme moi (‘like me’) actually makes the segment in quotation marks an Indirect Discourse, not a Direct one. The use of quotation marks seems to point towards the materiality of the speech while not to its actual literalness. Also see Tuomarla (2000: 153–5). . Unfortunately our example (25) seems to contradict that remark but it might just be an exception (in contrast with (26)). . ‘DD with que’ is rare in Spoken French (6 occurrences for 1727 reported Discourses = 0.3%), see Part II, Chapter 1, Section 2.4, e.g.:

Frank 1, p. 1, l 6–8 [alcoholic in rehab speaks to his doctor] l’infirmière elle m’a dit que il faut que vous /partez, partiez/ avec l’ambulance /qui, il/ vous attend + elle m’a amené ici. [the nurse told me that you must leave with the ambulance that is waiting for you + she/it brought me here]. However it is more common in medieval French, see Part II, Chapter 2, Section 2. . Additionally, she also makes a difference between utterances such as (22), (26) where the fragment in Direct Discourse is integrated in the sentence and other utterances where one part of the segment is linked to the verbum dicendi and the second part constitutes a new sentence that is also in Direct Discourse but could be autonomous (24). In that case, she says that the textual islet is followed by regular Direct Discourse (Authier-Revuz 1996: 99–100). Regarding Indirect Discourse with quotation marks (see Note 12 above), Authier-Revuz (1996: 94–6) considers them as other examples of textual islets entailing autonymic modalisation. Also see Authier-Revuz’s book (1995) for a thorough and subtle exposition of her linguistic theories. . See Note 21 in Chapter 1 of this part. . See Authier-Revuz (1996: 104–105) for examples where textual islets inserted in Indirect Discourses are actually not quoting the enunciator’s discourse. Of course, the use of quotation marks can be used outside of a context with explicit references to reported discourse. In that case, the autonymic modalisation will often not refer to another specific speaker but rather to ‘other stuff ’ (de l’autre, says Authier-Revuz), e.g. to other meanings given to the words in language. In other words, as Authier-Revuz says, quotation marks are not always to be analysed in terms of quotation, it is only one of its interpretations (Authier-Revuz 1996: 102). In the following example, the word nid (‘nest’) is presented by the journalist as



 Part I, Chapter 3

the best one to describe the situation but not as something that was uttered by a specific speaker:

Le Soir Magazine, 10-07-2002, Les Funambules de la mer, p. 8 Nous sommes à Port la Forêt, en Bretagne, un véritable “nid” de trimarans. [We are at Port la Forêt, in Brittany, a real “nest” of trimarans.] Maingueneau (1998: 132–3) makes a difference between short Direct Discourse segments that appear within Indirect Discourse (‘textual islets’) and segments that come directly after que (Direct Discourses with que). However, this distinction is not necessarily relevant (Tuomarla 2000: 55), since it relies on the length of the fragment, which is actually very variable. Some newspapers, like Le Monde, make a formal difference in the body of their articles between a syntagm in quotation mark that refer to another discourse (italics+ quotation marks) and these that are ‘autonymic’ (quotation marks only). In English, this second use of quotation marks is called ‘scare quotes’ (see Torck 1999). . However the absence of such mixed discourses in literature should be reassessed in light of examples found in modern French literature (see Part II, Chapter 3, examples (15), (30), (31)). Examples in spoken French will also emerge in Part II, Chapter 1, Section 2.4. . Rosier (2002: 32) notes that many ‘Direct Discourses with que’ enable journalists to use verba dicendi that explicitly name the speech acts (e.g. assertion with souligne que and remarque que in ((28), (29) above) but would not otherwise appear with Direct Discourse. That is, one is more likely to find elle souligne que “DD” (‘she stresses that: “DD”’) rather than elle souligne: “DD” (‘she stresses: “DD”’). . Written language of course solves this problem through punctuation as can be seen in two examples taken from the same article but treated differently:

Le Monde, 22-02-2002, Lionel Jospin, de premier ministre à candidat Mme Alliot-Marie a ensuite critiqué la forme qu’il a retenue pour dévoiler sa candidature: “En choisissant de la rendre publique par un simple communiqué à la presse, M. Jospin a fait preuve de désinvolture. Il a une nouvelle fois cédé à la suffisance dont lui et ses amis font preuve depuis des mois.” [. . .] LA PORTEPAROLE DU PRÉSIDENT-CANDIDAT A AUSSI MIS EN GARDE M. JOSPIN CONTRE LA TENTATION D’EXPLOITER LES AFFAIRES. “Le président de la République souhaite une campagne digne”, a-t-elle insisté. [Mrs. Alliot-Marie then criticised the format he picked to announce his candidacy: “By choosing to make it public through a simple press release, M. Jospin acted in an offhand manner. Once again he gave in to the arrogance that he and his friends have shown for the past months.” [. . .] THE SPOKESPERSON OF THE PRESIDENT-CANDIDATE ALSO WARNED MR. JOSPIN AGAINST THE TEMPTATION TO EXPLOIT JUDICIARY SCANDALS. “The president of the Republic wishes for a dignified campaign”, she stressed.] Only the occurrence in uppercases can be interpreted as Narrated Discourse since it is followed by a period instead of a colon. Moreover, the Direct Discourse following it ends with an inquit formula (a-t-elle insisté), which is not the case of the first occurrence. . On punctuation in medieval manuscripts, see Note 16 in Part II, Chapter 2.

To the limits of reportability  . See also Mochet 1993a. . Here is the only example:

Tscharner, pp. 13–4 (law students staging a mock trial) + celui-ci pour s’excuser vous invite à consommer et: VOUS ENTAMEZ UNE DISCUSSION au coin du comptoir + comme ça se fait souvent + tu n’a pas l’air dans ton assiette dit-il + il vous trouve surexcité + pr-a-t-il précisé lors de son audition + et: vous avez répondu je suis pressé + il est vrai vous ne restez que quelques minutes [+ this man in order to apologise invites you to have a drink and YOU BEGIN A CONVERSATION at the bar + as often happens + you look out of sorts he says + he finds you overexcited + he noted during his hearing + and you answered I am in a hurry + indeed you stay only for a few minutes] . One can also find the following example were apele is reinforced by si li dit and then by the inquit formula:

La Prise d’Orange, ms AB, verses 1852–3 BERTRAN APELE, si li dit en oiant: “Beau niés, dist il, entendez mon semblant [HE CALLS BERTRAND, he tells him aloud: “Fair nephew, says he, listen to my opinion [. . . ]”] . If we go back to the evolution of performative formula developed earlier (Part I, Chapter 2, Section 4.2), this stage is intermediate between the raw performative formula je refuse (‘I refuse’) and the description of a speech act elle refusa/refusait (‘she refused/was refusing’). It is the same stage as Elle dit/disait ‘je refuse’ (‘she said/was saying: ‘I refuse”) or elle dit/disait qu’elle refusait (‘she said/was saying that she refused’) or elle refusait, dit-elle/disait-elle (‘she was refusing, she said/was saying’). . The reason why the chunk in italic might be interpreted as Free Indirect Discourse is that the speaker/pharmacist obviously does not believe that her customer knows the medication better than she does but she expresses her frustration that her customer believes in her own expertise and therefore rejects her advice. . This is of course parallel to the view that envisages je dis (que) (‘I say (that)’) as a performative expression and thus not as reported discourse. . Obviously, the only fact of signalling a stretch of discourse as reported entails modalisation but the category of reported discourse and the choice of verbum dicendi / sentiendi are also relevant. . The term ‘press conditional’ is somewhat a misnomer since this type of conditional can obviously be used outside journalistic discourse. Other terms are: conditionnel de l’affirmation attribuée à autrui (Damourette et Pichon 1911–1940, V, §1846), conditionnel de l’allusion au discours de l’autre (Ducrot 1984: 154; Haillet 1995), conditionnel de citation (Korzen & Nølke 1990: 279), conditionnel épistémique (Coltier & Dendale 2004; Dendale 1993; Guentchéva 1994), conditionnel de l’information d’emprunt (Martin 1992: 149; Riegel et al. 1994: 320), conditionnel médiatif (Kronning 2002: 563), conditionnel de non-prise en charge

 Part I, Chapter 3

(Abouda 1997: 563; Celle 2004), conditionnel du on-dit (Rosier 1999: 171), conditionnel des ouï-dire (Wilmet 1997 §526), conditionnel de la rumeur (Togeby 1982: 388). . As a reminder, evidentials show how the speaker knows what s/he says. They indicate the source of knowledge or the way the speaker accessed the piece of information expressed in the utterance (Dendale & Tasmowski 1994), e.g. by perception (seeing, hearing, etc.), by inference or by repeating what somebody else said. Epistemic modality shows how the speaker evaluates the quality of the piece of information (doubtful, probable, certain, . . .). Also see Part I, Chapter 2, Section 4.2. . Kronning (2002) also sees these two values as connected. . The version could be only in Free Indirect Discourse, without the conditional in French or the expression ‘apparently’ in English, but it would not underline the error made by the other publications:

Au point que, mi-juin, certains journaux ANNONCENT officiellement leur séparation. Leur belle love story n’avait duré que cinq petits mois et la jeune femme après avoir décidé de mettre un terme à leur histoire, était de nouveau un coeur à prendre. . . En fait, la chanteuse et le comique n’ont jamais cessé de s’aimer. [To the point that, mid-June, some newspapers officially announce their separation. Their nice love story had lasted only five little months and, after deciding to end their story, the young woman’s heart was up for grabs again . . . In fact, the singer and the comedian never stopped loving each other. . .] . This is why Kronning (2002: 570) refuses to consider press conditional as being a type of reported discourse. . However it seems that the conditional might also convey this type of inference, as can be seen in another example given by Coltier and Dendale:

Au vu des premiers résultats, Monsieur X serait réélu. (Gosselin 2001, quoted by Coltier & Dendale 2004) [Based on the first results, M. X appears to be reelected.] But here the inference has to be explicitly made in the co-text of the press conditional. . Three of the four examples of selon X in spoken French appear in the same text, a mock trial where law students play the roles of defence and accusation, basing their arguments on testimonials and reports. The fourth example is found in a radio interview, in a question asked by the journalist to French singer Léo Ferré (Lefebv.). Interestingly, in these texts one also finds the rare examples of so-called ‘press conditional’ present in the spoken corpus (three of which with selon X, see (75) below). Kronning (2002: 563) notes that the press conditional is characteristic of a more formal type of French (here legal speech and journalistic talk) and not of spontaneous conversations and one could hypothesise that it is true for expressions such as selon X as well. Examples of selon moi are equally rare in my literary corpus. . As, Rosier (1999: 199) noted and my own corpus clearly shows, the segment within quotation marks appearing with selon X and pour X are often undifferentiated in terms of person and tense. In other words, they are similar to the majority of mixed discourses, which are

To the limits of reportability 

more likely to be neutral than explicitly transposed (i.e. indirect discourse with quotation marks) or not transposed (Direct Discourse with que). See supra. . As Kronning (2002: 565) notes, the (b) solution is roughly equivalent to the use of press conditional in Direct Discourse: Our correspondent says “the majority of these killings appear to be due to disputes in the underworld”. Also see (Rosier 1999: 169). In fact, in my press corpus, I found 4 examples of selon X followed by a segment in Direct Discourse containing a conditional. . The expression comme quoi is difficult to translate in English. In general, it can be considered as a subordination marker followed by transposed discourse but it does not behave like que (‘that’) since it does not need to follow a verbum dicendi. Lefeuvre (2004) identifies three possible structures (my examples): 1) Verbum dicendi or verb with an enunciative value + comme quoi: it keeps the same frame as Indirect Discourse but sometimes more loosely. See example (66) below where convoquées can be followed by comme quoi but not by que alone (not ‘*we were called that’ but ‘we were called on the grounds that’). 2) Nominal syntagm+ comme quoi and absence of quoted enunciator: The nominal syntagm refers to an enunciative medium, concrete (paper, document) or more abstract (message, information, rumour). E.g. J’ai reçu une lettre comme quoi je dois payer ‘I received a letter [saying] that I have to pay’. 3) Comme quoi begins the utterance: the enunciator disappears but the enunciative source is understood to be in the preceding utterance (i.e. based on what the preceding utterance say, one could say that. . . / one could make the generalisation that. . .). E.g. Il n’a pas plu aujourd’hui. Comme quoi il ne faut pas toujours croire la météo. ‘It has not rained today. Which proves that one should not always trust weather reports.’ Lefeuvre (2004) also notes that, compared to a normal completive with que, comme quoi insists more on the truth or falseness of the utterance and offers more distantiation on the part of the locutor. It also stresses the fact that the quoted discourse is only one of the multiple paraphrases used in order to transcribe the original utterance. . However, expressions such as au dire de / selon les dires de (‘according to’) do refer to the reporting with the infinitive dire (‘to say’) that acts as a noun rather than a verb. . It might be useful at this point to summarize the relationships between S&TP and concepts such as ‘polyphony’ and ‘modalisation’. Polyphony, as defined by Ducrot (1984: 171– 233), implies the presence of several voices within the same utterance and the fact that enunciators cannot automatically be equated with the locutor of the utterance. Therefore it encompasses all cases of S&TP but it also covers other phenomena such as irony (see Part I, Chapter 1, Section 2), proverbs and slogans (Maingueneau 1998: 147–150) as well as the interpretation of negation or connective markers such as mais (‘but’; Ducrot 1980, 1984). S&TP also pertains to the field of modalisation since it always implies that the locutor comments on the source of the utterance (epistemic modality). But obviously modalisation is far from restricted to S&TP. Moreover, as we have seen, some phenomena like the so-called ‘press conditional’, the use of formulae such as ‘according to’ or the use of firstperson performatives such as ‘I think that’ are excluded by some linguists from the actual field of reported discourse and exclusively interpreted as modalisation markers. In my view,

 Part I, Chapter 3

these performative formulae should be analysed as reported discourse as well as modalisation markers and I have suggested to envisage the ‘press conditional’ and expressions such as ‘according to’ within the broader field of S&TP. Thompson (1996: 506) adopts a similar perpective since he defines ‘language reports’ as “any stretch of language where the speaker or writer signals in some way that another voice is entering the text, in however muffled or ambiguous a fashion”, while acknowledging that “such an approach involves including a number of uses of language which are not normally associated with ‘reported speech”’.

P II

Strategies

Chapter 1

Contemporary spoken French

.

Introduction

Based on the conceptual material developed in Part I, I will now show that specific types of reported discourse (speech, thoughts, attitudes and writing) are linked to particular S&TP categories (Direct, Indirect, Free Indirect and Neutral Discourse) while their use and the way they are introduced depend on their enunciative context. Here, I have chosen to focus my enquiry on a single corpus, that of spoken French. It is clear, however, that such connections exist in other speech genres as well, although possibly in different forms. Indeed, the other chapters of this second part will look in more detail at strategies in medieval and modern literary genres as well as in modern written press. Moreover, the current chapter will also study the spoken corpus in greater depth, looking at strategies specific to particular conversations rather than global results for the whole corpus. The reasons why this second part opens with an analysis of contemporary spoken French are twofold. First it provides a seamless bridge with the first part of the book which mostly offered examples of spoken French. Second, all three other chapters of this second part will at some point refer to the way S&TP is used in spoken French and will discuss the notions of ‘orality’ and ‘oralisation’.1 Studies on S&TP in spoken discourse began mostly in the nineties, apart from a few pioneering works such as those of Barallier, de Gaulmyn and Vincent.2 This is clearly due to the fact that researches on the spoken language in general had to wait not only for the advent of the tape recorder but also for extensive computing facilities (corpus linguistics) in order to fully develop in the last quarter of the 20th-c. It is also linked to the lengthy normative tradition that has influenced the study of S&TP and the longstanding view of spoken discourse as corrupted and/or substandard with regard to written discourse (an opinion unfortunately still very much prevalent with many French laypeople). However, although works on S&TP in spoken French are relatively few, their topics are more varied than in other speech genres, ranging from pronunciation to syntax but also including sociolinguistics, psycholinguistics

 Part II, Chapter 1

and pragmatics (e.g. discourse analysis). A lot of attention has been paid to the forms of reported discourse (e.g. Direct Discourse versus Indirect Discourse), to dialogues (e.g. radio or TV interviews and debates, natural conversations) and to both the narrative and argumentative functions of S&TP. Nevertheless, similarly to other genres, most linguists focus on reported speech only (not thought, nor attitude) and reject performative or reflexive expressions (see Part I, Chapter 2, Sections 3 and 4). The corpus of spoken French I am studying (197,332 words, 25 conversations), comes from the extended corpus gathered at the French University of Provence by the Groupe Aixois de Recherche en Syntaxe (GARS, Aix-enProvence).3 The examples given in the text have the name of the person who transcribed the excerpt and the page numbers as they appear in the electronic version. The conventions adopted by the GARS for the transcriptions are fairly minimal in order to introduce the least amount of interpretation on the spoken material. There are no capitals except for proper names and there is no punctuation except for pauses that are indicated by + (short), – (intermediate) and ++ (long). Where different interpretations are possible, they are noted between oblique slashes, the most likely one coming first, e. g. elle /a rien, vient/ (‘she /has nothing, comes/’). When hesitating between an element or nothing, the transcription is marked as /..., Ø/. Unintelligible syllables are noted X. Contrary to other types of corpus, this one does not give indications about the pronunciation (e.g. ascending versus descending rhythm, etc.) and the present study will therefore not deal with the links between reported discourse and phonology.4 This type of transcription allows us to have a better understanding of – and feeling for – the distinguishing characteristics of the spoken language: many utterances are not ‘syntactically complete’ since there are many selfinterruptions, repetitions and hesitations on the part of the speaker and, in dialogues, speakers sometimes talk at the same time.5 As a consequence, what seems perfectly clear and normal when heard in spoken discourse might appear slightly ‘messy’ and awkward when transcribed, a characteristic that was deliberately kept in my translations as well. As there is no punctuation and therefore no quotation marks in the original transcription, the tagging of S&TP was done entirely ‘manually’ on the basis of the lexicon, the morpho-syntax and the pronunciation (recordings were obviously provided with the written transcriptions). In the examples given in this book, Direct Discourses are indicated in bold; Indirect Discourses are underlined and Free Indirect Discourses are italicised. Whenever needed, Narrated Discourses are shown in upper case.6 Although I marked each type of reported discourse in a particular way, it

Contemporary spoken French

should be clear that some cases could give rise to different interpretations (e.g. see Section 3 on Free Indirect Discourse infra) and ultimately, as for any corpus analysis, the choices made depend on the linguist in charge (i.e. myself in this case). Although the corpus gives indications about the sex, age and current profession of each speaker, it is not specifically geared towards a sociolinguistic analysis and does not give much data on the speaker’s socio-economic status or their education level. While sociolinguistic data are very relevant and give rise to extremely enriching analyses of S&TP, I have not chosen this type of approach here and will stick to an ‘enunciative perspective’ only.7 The 25 texts (197,332 words) selected for the corpus are extremely varied from the point of view of their speakers, of their formats (free flowing conversations, interviews, monologues), of their contents (narrative or argumentative or both, centred around first person’s experiences or mostly interested in others) and of their contexts (friendly encounter, professional setting, etc.).8 Their common point however is that they all contain unplanned discourse, a characteristic that is more typical of spoken discourse than written discourse and that explains the ‘messy’ appearance of the utterance structures in the corpus (see supra).9 As already mentioned, my aim was first to identify some broad trends regarding S&TP strategies in spoken French, without making detailed differentiations between distinct types of texts (macroanalysis). However, a second part of the present chapter will look more closely at specific texts and identify their particularities (microanalysis). As mentioned in the introduction to this book, the term ‘narrative’ is somewhat ambiguous as it can be used to refer to entire texts or to specific structured clusters of utterances, which Adam (1990: 84–98) calls ‘sequences’. For example, novels or fairytales are both called ‘narratives’ even though they are whole texts belonging to different speech genres and do not only include narrative sequences but also descriptive ones and conversational ones.10 Similarly Labov (1972: 359–61) distinguishes between ‘narratives’ and ‘narrative clauses’. While he sees a minimal narrative as being composed of at least two narrative clauses (i.e. temporally ordered clauses), he describes natural narratives in spoken English as containing other types of clauses as well (i.e. free clauses, Labov 1972: 362) and he analyses these narratives into abstract, orientation, complicating action, evaluation, result / resolution and coda (Labov 1972: 363).11 In the present chapter, I will analyse spoken conversations that may contain narratives. These narratives can be very minimal, i.e. comprising one narrative sequence only (in Adam’s sense) or only a few temporal narrative clauses



 Part II, Chapter 1

(in Labov’s terms). However they can also be longer and include other types of sequences (or clauses). Of importance to us is the fact that many of these narratives, even sometimes very short ones, contain some types of S&TP. Unfortunately, it is tricky to describe the exact role of these reported discourses within formal descriptions such as Adam’s or Labov’s. While Direct Discourse is at times considered as evaluative by Labov and as being part of embedded conversational sequences by Adam, other categories of S&TP are overlooked.12 Moreover, as we will see, even in the case of Direct Discourses, it can be argued that they do not only appear in dialogues (and thus are not necessarily part of conversational sequences), nor do they only function as evaluative devices (see infra). No less ambiguous than the term ‘narrative’ is the term ‘argumentative’ since we can speak about ‘argumentative sequences’ (in Adam’s terms) as well as whole argumentative texts (e.g. the prosecution or the defence’s discourses in a trial, political debates, etc.).13 It is also obvious that many ‘non argumentative’ texts do in fact have a line of argument. Narratives, for example, are often told to make a point which is not only that the story is reportable and memorable in general but can also be more particular (e.g. attributing certain qualities to specific people or experiences or indirectly revealing particular facets of the narrator, etc.). Once again, the present corpus offers several examples of argumentation (be it whole conversations or sequences of various length) and I will try to define how they use S&TP. Perrin and Vincent (1999) are, to my knowledge, the only linguists who have attempted to propose a global view of the narrative and non narrative functions of reported discourse in spoken French. In their article, they use a narrower definition of reported discourse than mine, limiting it to “words that the speaker draws from past experiences and reproduces in his discourse” (1999: 294),14 and they suggest that: When not aimed at reproducing a speech act that is part of a chain of events (the narrative function), reported speech can illustrate, explicate or paraphrase a metadiscursive comment (the support function), reproduce a witness’s point of view concerning a reported event (the appreciative function) or echo a speech act that the speaker makes his own, akin to any of his other utterances (the authority function). (1999: 303)

By defining the narrative function of reported discourse as “uttered to identify a speech event from a past series of events constrained by the temporality and the causality of successive actions involved in a story” (1999: 294), they usefully broaden Labov’s description of narrative clauses and it is easy to see indeed

Contemporary spoken French

how a dialogue, for example, offers a way to move the action forward.15 While the appreciative function of reported discourse definitely plays a role in narratives (as a whole text), it is not narrative as such since, for Perrin and Vincent (1999: 296), it “reproduces a witness’s judgement or opinion of a recounted event or object rather than reproducing a speech act as an event.” In the appreciative type, “the quote cannot be integrated into a dialogue, or more generally, (. . .) it does not cause an ensuing event” (1999: 297). Note that, for the authors, these judgements are made in the past, i.e. at the time of the story events and while they are mostly in the first person (82% of their 391 occurrences), they do not include expressions such as j’ai pensé/je pensais (“I thought”) and the like, i.e. no thoughts nor attitudes (cf. Note 14). The two other functions developed by Perrin and Vincent (1999) are argumentative in nature: The support function is activated when the aim of the reported discourse is to bring out certain properties of a discourse in order to illustrate a (metadiscursive) comment by the speaker as speaker. (1999: 297–8) The authority function of reported speech consists precisely in the phenomenon whereby the reporting speaker assumes responsibility for the quoted words, and detachment of one voice from another gives way to fusion. The reporting of speech becomes an argumentative act of appealing to authority. (. . .) When the utterance <X said [that] P> is authority-driven, the speaker intends to communicate the propositional content of the quotation P and seeks simply to increase or, on the contrary, attenuate its persuasive force. (1999: 300–1).

While an utterance with a supportive function “can be eliminated without disturbing the coherence of the supporting discourse”, in authority driven reported utterances, it is the speech act verb and all metadiscursive elements that can be deleted, which shows that their informational content is not carried by the metadiscursive clause (1999: 300, 302). In their conclusion, Perrin and Vincent (1999: 305–6) make two points that are of particular interest to me. First they note that specific categories of reported discourse are associated to certain functions as is the author of the words reproduced, two broad facts that my own analyses will confirm (albeit not always in terms of specific results since my criteria for reported discourse are different). The narrative and support functions are mostly linked to Direct Discourse while the authority function and the appreciative functions are more likely to appear in Indirect Discourse. In particular, dialogues in Direct Discourse seem to be characteristic of the narrative function but not of others. Moreover, in appreciative utterances, the speaker often quotes him or herself



 Part II, Chapter 1

but s/he tends to quote other people in the other functions. Second, Perrin and Vincent (1999: 303–4) make clear that functions can be combined within the same utterance or cluster of utterances; thus an utterance can, for example, present superimposed narrative and authoritative functions. This will also appear in my own analysis. In another article, Perrin and Vincent (1997) bring further insight to Labov’s definition of a narrative by pointing out that narrative events in spoken discourse are far from always being exceptional in terms of reportability or memorability (Labov 1972: 370). Labov tends to examine natural narratives of personal experiences that answer to questions such as “were you ever in danger of death?” while Perrin and Vincent look at recordings of people randomly gathering in the family kitchen at the end of the day and speaking about what happened to them during that day (a fairly regular activity in many households). Predictably, such ‘day telling’ narratives are mostly fairly bland but interestingly for us, they often contain S&TP, especially in the form of dialogues. The essential purpose of these reported conversations is informative (speaking about daily events even if they are not that important) but they may also tell a specific interesting, amusing story that is particularly pleasant to narrate (i.e. be more reportable in Labov’s sense) or they may have a particular argumentative value because they illustrate a point made by the speaker in the rest of the conversation. In short, Perrin and Vincent (1997) show that speech reports can be assessed from the point of view of their informative value only or of their narrative (reportability and memorability) and/or argumentative values. Actually, the more interesting such reports are from a narrative point of view, the more argumentative force they can muster. For the present chapter on spoken French, I used a slightly different classification from Perrin and Vincent (1999: 89).16 I considered as ‘broadly narrative’ reported discourses that carry the narrative or the appreciative functions described by Perrin and Vincent. I regarded as ‘broadly argumentative’ reported discourses that convey the support or the authoritative functions. Moreover, contrary to Perrin and Vincent, I included reported discourses in the present and future tenses within the argumentative group, i.e. reflexive clauses (je dis ‘I say’, je pense ‘I think’) and clauses in the second and the third person (tu dis/penses ‘you say/think’, il dit/pense ‘he says/thinks’). Within this argumentative group, I also distinguished a particular category that encompasses some (but not all) occurrences of the supportive function, which I called ‘argumentative pseudo-narrative’ reported discourses. Those are reported discourses that are contextualised in the past or are expressed in an illustrative scenario that helps to make a point (see framed excerpts infra). This scenario could be in-

Contemporary spoken French 

terpreted as a narrative but when looked at more closely, it does not have the sophistication of a narrative (e.g. it has backgrounding in the past but no real succession of events) nor the specificity of narrative (e.g. illustrative story in the atemporal present or repetitions in the past). (1) Savelli, p. 34 [the speaker speaks about his Corsican origins and the family traditions in Corsica]17 + et moi je trouve que /ça, ce/ n’ est plus respecter les anciens + /ça, ce/ n’ est plus respecter le le le le le + code + le code des de nos ancêtres + que de laisser partir en ruine(s) ce que eux ont fait alors + ma mère souvent a demandé à quelques-uns de ces: Corses et de /ces, ses/ de sa famille de ses cousins de leur vendre un petit quelque chose eh bien + ils ne veulent pas et + moi je crois que qu’ils ont pris à ce niveau-là + non plus l’esprit corse + ils ont abandonné l’esprit corse + mais ils sont tombés dans l’esprit un peu continental ++ qui dit que + ma foi euh: euh: le je m’en foutisme parce que finalement ça n’est pas + moi je dis que c’est un manque de respect vis-à-vis /de de de, d’eux d’eux d’eux/ des anciens + de laisser tomber en ruine(s) une maison alors que + ma mère comme le le + le dit souvent + elle dit + elle me dit moi je retaperai(s) une maison mais même ceux qui me l’ont vendue + je leur permettrai(s) de venir autant que bon leur semble et leur ferai(s) plaisir et + ça leur permettrait justement de pouvoir + honorer le culte dans une maison qui serait toujours en état et: + prête à les accueillir quoi voilà + [Personally I think that it does not respect the ancestors + it does not respect our ancestors’ code + allowing what they have made to fall into ruin So my mother often asked some of these Corsicans from her family from her cousins to sell her a little something well they don’t want to and + personally I think that they have taken at this level + not the Corsican spirit they have left the Corsican spirit + but they have fallen into a slightly continental state of mind ++ that says that well euh the could-not-careless attitudes since finally it is not + as for me I say that it shows a lack of respect for them the ancestors + to let a house fall into ruin while + my mother + as she often says + she says + she says to me I would do a house up but even those who sold it to me + I would allow them to come as often as they want and as they would please + it would enable them actually to + honour the cult in a house that would always be in good condition and + ready to welcome them that’s it +]

 Part II, Chapter 1

Finally, I also added what I call a metanarrative function, i.e. reported discourses in the present tenses that express the speaker’s comments on his/her narration and the story events (2) and I took into account reported discourses used in explicative (3) or injunctive sequences (4) although these two possibilities are actually pretty rare. (2) Selin, p. 9–10 [the speaker recounts her car accident and how her sister helped her to get up after she slipped in front of a car that stopped just in time] + et hum + quand elle m’a et bon elle m’a relevée alors j’étais dans les alouettes JE /me, m’en / RAPPELLE pas du tout je sais pas comment ça s’est je sais qu’elle a parlé à la dame + et + il y avait une autre dame assise bon JE ME RAPPELLE de la dame qui était assise dans la voiture celle qui conduisait + mais l’autre je pourrais même pas dire comment elle était hein JE SAIS pas du tout je le: JE ne la REVOIS pas du tout + [+ and hum + when she and well she picked me up then I was dizzy I DON’T REMEMBER it at all I don’t know how it happened I know she spoke to the woman + and + there was another woman sitting well I REMEMBER the lady who was sitting in the car, the one driving + but the other I could not even say what she looked like hein I really DON’T KNOW I CANNOT PICTURE her in my mind at all +] (3) Brunet D., p. 10 [school trip to an olive oil factory] moi heu on m’a dit que + heu ++ un litre ++ d’huile faisait + neuf cents grammes et quelques [as for me euh I was told that + euh ++ one litre ++ of oil makes + nine hundred grams approximately] (4) Gautier B., p. 3 [new transportation project presented at a town hall committee] 1. + saluons donc ce nouveau-né et souhaitons-lui de faire ses preuves avec le soutien et la bonne volonté de tous 2. [+ let’s salute this new-born and wish him to prove itself with everybody’s support and goodwill]

Before going to the heart of the matter, here are a few numbers taken from the spoken corpus analysis. For a corpus of 197,332 words (25 conversations), I have found 1,727 reported discourses: 473 Direct Discourses (27% of the total), 1,027 Indirect Discourses (59%), 156 Neutral Discourses (9%) and 71 Free Indirect Discourses (4%).18 The 662 Narrated Discourses I have counted will not be taken into account in the next chapter.19 From a global point of view,

Contemporary spoken French

1023 discourses are reported speech (59% of the total), 327 thought (19%), 302 attitude (17%), 54 writing (3%) and 21 are ambiguous (1%).

. A macroanalysis of the corpus . Direct Discourse In the spoken corpus, only 10% of (Free) Direct Discourses relate thoughts and attitudes, a fact that clearly highlights the link between the Direct Discourse category and the ‘external speech’ type.20 Indeed, Direct Discourse presents thoughts as if they were spoken: the thoughts are verbalised and truly envisaged as ‘inner speech’. Chafe (1994: 221–223) and Blanche Benveniste (1997: 108) note that in spoken language direct thoughts play a role similar to that of direct speech: they enliven the narrative and involve the addressee(s). (5) Balboa, p. 3–4 [young man reminisces about his experience as an exchange student in Spain] ma foi ++ Isabel euh ben j’ai dit oui à Isabel + enfin à ce moment-là j’étais un peu ++ enfin j’ai j’ai j’avais dit oui mais je j’avais peur quand même et je je me disais euh c’est pas encore accepté alors tu as de la chance que ça soit pas accepté ++ [well yes ++ Isabel euh so I said yes to Isabel + that is at that time I was a little ++ well I I I said yes but I was afraid anyway and I I said to myself euh it is not yet accepted so you are lucky that is not accepted ++] (6) Balboa, p. 5 [young man reminisces about his experience as an exchange student in Spain] et ++ et + et donc euh ben ça /a commençé, commencait/ à me séduire parce que je me suis dit ben c’est le moyen d’apprendre des langues étrangères ++ je suis jamais arrivé à apprendre une langue étrangère en restant en France alors peut-être en allant dans le pays ça marche ++ et d’autre part je me disais euh ben + apprendre une langue étrangère en plus d’un diplôme c’est dur si on fait un DEA une thèse + bon ça prend beaucoup de temps aussi euh je sais pas si j’aurais le courage de me forcer d’apprendre des langues à côté ++ [and ++ and + and so it began to attract me because I told myself well it is the way to learn foreign languages ++ I never managed to learn a foreign language while staying in France so maybe by going to the country it works ++ and on the other hand I was telling myself euh well + learning a foreign language in top of a diploma is hard if one does a DEA a thesis



 Part II, Chapter 1

+ well it takes a lot of time too euh I don’t know if I will have the courage to force myself to learn languages on the side ++] (7) Vilagines, p. 26 [young woman recalls her volunteer work in Bangladesh] + tu étais en plein soleil assis en train avec ton marteau en train de + de casser les pierres c’était + comme le travail à perpétuité presque + oui oui on pensait ça on pensait oh là là on est comme à Cayenne + et /XXX tu luttais à, + ils sont en train de + + de nous tuer à/ + mais + mais bon c’était intéressant aussi + [+ you would be sitting in hot sun while breaking rocks with your hammer + it was like hard labour almost + yes yes we thought that we thought oh la la we are like in Cayenne + /and you would fight to + they are ++ killing us / + but well it was also interesting +]

Notice that although examples (5) and (6) above were uttered by the same speaker, he ‘stages’ his thoughts in two different ways: he speaks to himself in the second person in (5) (tu as de la chance) and in the first person in (6) (je suis jamais. . . je sais pas). Example (7) contains the verb penser (‘to think’) but, in general, direct thoughts are introduced with the verb se dire (5), (6). This is of course not by chance since only the use of the reflexive se makes the latter a verbum sentiendi (se dire ‘to say to oneself ’) rather than a verbum dicendi (dire ‘to say’). Moreover, with the impersonal pronoun on (e.g. on se disait) or in the plural (e. g. nous nous disions), French is ambiguous between a reflexive meaning (‘we said to ourselves’, i.e. inner speech) or reciprocal (‘we said to one another’, i.e. external speech). (8) Anguenot, p. 1 [friends speaking about their holidays] bref l’Espagne donc on s’est dit on va partir en Espagne ++ [So Spain thus we told ourselves [or we told each other] we are going to go to Spain ++]

Expressions such as genre and style in French and like in English present Direct Discourse that can be speech, thought or even attitude (9), (10).21 For Fleishman and Yaguello (2004), these expressions relate thoughts more often than speech and when reported discourses seem to be coming from several speakers at once, they must be interpreted as “indexing internal attitude, given the unlikelihood of everyone uttering the same words”. (9) Example of spoken French taken from Fleischman & Yaguello (2004) Les gens applaudissent à tout rompre pendant deux minutes et après il y

Contemporary spoken French 

a un silence de mort GENRE fais nous rire maintenant et t’as intérêt à être bon. [People applaud like mad for a couple minutes and then there’s dead silence, LIKE now make us laugh and you’d better be real good.] (10) Example of spoken French taken from Fleischman & Yaguello (2004) Quand je lui ai dit que t’ étais pas sûr de venir elle était vraiment pas contente, GENRE si vous jouez pas je chante pas. [When I told her you weren’t sure you were coming [to her party] she was really upset, LIKE if you won’t [be there to] play, I won’t sing]

It is thus very interesting to realise that one can report an attitude by using Direct Discourse. This however happens fairly rarely and, with the exception of examples (11) and (12) below, all the attitudinal verbs found in my corpus (e.g. croire ‘to believe’, juger ‘to judge’, craindre ‘to fear’, etc.) were exclusively used with Indirect or Narrated Discourse (see infra). (11) Giovannoni, p. 87–8 [the speaker re-tells the story she heard from her son, a convict22 ] + le gardien lui a dit + promenade obligatoire + alors + il a pensé + il m’a dit et j’ai pensé + aïe + aïe + aïe + heu + il m’a dit je me suis mis un vêtement un + peu + chaud + un peu épais + pour pour éviter les coups mais il m’a dit il y a pas eu de coups + [+ the warder told him + mandatory walk + then + he thought + he said to me and I thought + aïe + aïe + aïe + euh + he told me I put some clothes on + a bit warm + a bit thick + in order to avoid blows but he said to me there were no blows +] (12) Ghioldi, p. 87–8 [a pharmacist tells anecdotes about her profession] j’ai on m’a demandé une fois /de, ø/ l’aspirine américain alors j’ai cherché à comprendre pourquoi aspirine américain j’ai réfléchi d’abord je savais pas ce que c’était hein l’aspirine américain j’ai cherché hein alors j’ai montré toutes les boîtes d’aspirine que j’avais [Once I was asked for American aspirin so I tried to understand why American aspirin I did some thinking first I didn’t know what it was hein American aspirin I searched hein so I showed the aspirin boxes that I had]

Actually, example (12) presents what I call a Neutral Discourse: in the absence of deictic marks, we do not know whether we are dealing with a Direct Discourse (j’ai cherché à comprendre: “pourquoi aspirine américain?”) or with an Indirect Discourse (j’ai cherché à comprendre pourquoi c’était de l’aspirine américain). As we have seen already, many linguists like Dubois and Vincent

 Part II, Chapter 1

(1997: 30), consider that the fact that it is impossible to use certain verbs with Direct Discourse justifies their exclusion from the field of reported discourse (see Part I, Chapter 2, Section 3). Is it however a real incompatibility or is it just a very rare use, at least in spoken language, as is the case for the verb penser? As a matter of fact, literature shows examples such as (13) where an attitudinal verb even introduces direct ‘external’ speech. (13) L. Pergaud. La Guerre des Boutons, Editions Mercure de France, 1963, p. 255 – C’ est tout de même lâche, vous savez, ce qu’ils ont fait là, jugea Camus. [– Really it is cowardly, you know, what they have done, decreed Camus.]

Thus, I would say that, in spoken French, with the exception of the verb se dire and expressions such as genre and style, the unmarked use of verbs of thought and attitude is with Indirect Discourses. As we will see in Sections 2.3 and 2.4, reported speech does not only use Direct Discourse (39% of occurrences) but also Indirect Discourse (45%) and Neutral Discourse (12%). So although most Direct Discourses are direct speech, not all reported speeches are Direct Discourses. This result is undoubtedly due to the fact that I envisage a broad range of verbs as verba dicendi and to the fact that in an argumentative context reported speech is linked to Indirect Discourse rather than Direct Discourse (Vincent & Dubois 1997: 133 and see Section 2.3). The high use of Direct Discourse in spoken French, especially in narrative contexts, is undoubtedly linked to the fact that Direct Discourse creates involvement on the part of the addressee (Chafe 1982, 1994: 217; Tannen 1989: 133). It is, as Collins (2001: 68) cleverly puts it, a hearer-based strategy:23 Rather than assimilate the reported information to his own authorial viewpoint, the reporter puts the interpreter on an equal footing with himself, in the position of a witness who must evaluate the represented speech event, analyze characteristically diffuse information, and make the necessary deictic adjustments for himself.

As a hearer-based strategy, Direct Discourse can thus create effects such as drama and vividness as well as lessening social distance and promoting a feeling of solidarity (Collins 2001: 68–69).24 It is also linked to narrative peaks and it is often “foregrounded, newsworthy or otherwise prominent in discourse” (Collins 2001: 68). These qualities will be ilustrated in my detailed analyses of specific excerpt of spoken French (see infra) but they will also appear recurrently in the rest of the book, as I will highlight the potential connection

Contemporary spoken French

between Direct Discourse and the spoken language in literature and in the written press (see Chapters 2, 3 and 4 of this second part). . Free Indirect Discourse In the spoken French corpus, Free Indirect Discourse is less frequent than Direct and Indirect Discourses (about 4% of all occurrences of reported discourse).25 In the examples below, Free Indirect Discourses (speech and thought) are shown in italics. (14) Balboa, p. 6–7 [young man reminisces about his experience as an exchange student in Spain] ++ et + et donc euh ben ÇA /A COMMENÇÉ, COMMENCAIT/ À ME SÉDUIRE parce que je me suis dit ben c’est le moyen d’apprendre des langues étrangères ++ je suis jamais arrivé à apprendre une langue étrangère en restant en France alors peut-être en allant dans le pays ça marche ++ et d’autre part je me disais euh ben + apprendre une langue étrangère en plus d’un diplôme c’est dur si on fait un DEA une thèse + bon ça prend beaucoup de temps aussi euh je sais pas si j’aurais le courage de me forcer d’apprendre des langues à côté ++ donc + de les mettre dans le cadre de mon travail c’était sans doute le seul moyen ++ euh de ++ d’apprendre des langues vivantes + alors bon ÇA A COMMENCÉ À ME SÉDUIRE + et puis sur ce + euh Isabel appelle et /et, elle/ m’apprend apprend à Claire et m’apprend en même temps ++ que que l’accord euh l’accord Erasmus n’est pas passé + alors là j’AI COMMENCÉ À AVOIR VRAIMENT DES REGRETS ++ parce que tu vois au fur /et, ø/ à mesure je m’étais habitué à l’idée que je devais partir à l’étranger ++ puis bon + enfin bon j’ÉTAIS VRAIMENT DÉÇU VRAIMENT HEIN MAIS BON ISABEL AUSSI JE l’AI SENTI AU BOUT DU TÉLÉPHONE + et bon il était pas question qu’on laisse passer ça il fallait essayer de voir si on pouvait pas le rattraper ++ alors bon je je crois qu’elle avait demandé des lettres de soutien à Claire euh à + à Fernanda à Lisbonne [and ++ and + and so it began to attract me because I told myself well it is the way to learn foreign languages ++ I never managed to learn a foreign language while staying in France so maybe by going to the country it works ++ and on the other hand I was telling myself euh well + learning a foreign language in top of a diploma is hard if one does a DEA a thesis + well it takes a lot of time too euh I don’t know if I will have the courage to force myself to learn languages on the side ++ so placing them within the context of my work was probably the only way ++ euh ++



 Part II, Chapter 1

to learn modern languages + so well IT BEGAN TO ATTRACT ME + and then with that + euh Isabel calls and she tells me tells Claire and tells me at the same time ++ that that the agreement euh the Erasmus agreement did not pass + and then I REALLY STARTED HAVING REGRETS ++ because you see little by little i had become used to the idea that I had to leave to a foreign country ++ then well + WELL I WAS REALLY DISAPPOINTED REALLY HEIN BUT WELL ISABEL TOO I COULD FEEL IT ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE PHONELINE + and well it was out of the question that we should give up we had to try to see whether we could not fix it ++ so well I think that she had asked recommendation letters to Claire euh + to Fernanda in Lisbon] (15) Mousset, p. 6 [conversation between friends] S2 enfin elle est elle est folle cette fille c’est malheureux pour elle mais + S1 ouais ++ /enfin, ma foi/ on verra bien ce /qui, qu’il/ va se passer + de toutes façons on a tort hein que ce soit + Céline moi ou Toto heu Dupont il préfèrera garder Jocelyne et les autres hein parce qu’elle y rend vraiment trop de services [S2 well she is crazy that girl it is too bad for her but + S1 yes ++ well we’ll see what is going to happen + in any case we are wrong hein be it Celine, I or Toto heu Dupont he will prefer to keep Jocelyne and the others hein because she is too helpful to him ] (16) Balboa, p. 17–8 [young man reminisces about his experience as an exchange student in Spain] + je suis rentré il y avait juste la place pour le lit une commode un petit un petit secrétaire enfin tout petit /hein, hé/ vraiment – et j’ai commencé à me dire oh là là oh là là c’est tout petit comment je vais faire c’est pas possible de vivre six mois là-dedans – - ET PUIS EUH DE SUITE j’AI j’AI COMMENCÉ À RÉFLÉCHIR je me suis dit c’est très intéressant parce que si j’ai bien gardé euh l’orientation on est plein sud – et comme le l- l’immeuble en face il ne faisait que trois étages et que nous on était au quatrième moi j’étais plus haut que lui donc j’allais avoir le soleil toute la journée + ça c’était très très bien + euh deuxième avantage c’est que c’était tout petit + donc pour nettoyer c’était plus facile pour passer l’aspirateur il y avait la moquette par terre + pour passer l’aspirateur ben ça serait tout petit ça serait eu vite fait – et puis euh bon on m’avait dit qu’à Salamanque l’hiver il faisait très très froid + je m’étais dit euh sept mètres carrés ça va être très facile à chauffer aussi ça va euh chauffer rapidement bon le le plafond était pas très haut ça de- fai- ça devait faire deux mètres à tout casser + et + et bon je me disais ça va vite chauffer et donc + RAPIDEMENT JE j’AI COMMENCÉ À

Contemporary spoken French 

BIEN ME SENTIR et je crois que ça c’est important aussi parce que si on commence à voir tous les côtés négatifs euh je crois qu’on peut pas bien s’intégrer – tandis que là + euh j’AI VU EUH LES CÔTÉS POSITIFS et bon je disons /JE COMMENÇAIS, j’AI COMMENCÉ/ À VOIR LA VIE DU DU BON CÔTÉ [+ I came inside there was just enough room for the bed a chest a little a little secretary well very little indeed ++ and I began to say to oh là là oh là là it is so small how will I manage it is not possible to live six months in this place ++ AND THEN EUH RIGHT AWAY I BEGAN TO THINK I said to myself it is very interesting because if I looked closely at the location euh it is south facing ++ and since the building facing ours was only two stories tall and we were on the fourth floor I was higher and I was going to have sun the whole day + that was really perfect + euh the second advantage was that it was very small + so in order to vacuum well it would be very small it would be quickly done ++ and then euh I had been told that in Salamanca in the winter it was very very cold + I said to myself euh seven square meters it is going to warm up quickly so the ceiling was not very high not more than two meters if that + and + well I was telling myself it is going to warm up quickly and so + rapidly I BEGAN TO FEEL GOOD and I think that it is important also since if one looks only at negative points euh I believe that one cannot fit in ++ there however + euh I saw euh the positive points and well let’s say I BEGAN TO SEE THE GOOD SIDE OF LIFE]

Example (14) above offers one likely occurrence of free indirect speech: from bon . . . to . . . rattraper. Indeed these utterances could be these that the enunciator Isabel uttered on the phone: they are syntactically independent (no verbum dicendi) but the use of imperfect indicative (imperfect) incorporates them within the quoting discourse. Here the free indirect utterances are relatively short and they follow an indirect speech (elle m’apprend . . . que). Example (15) is slightly trickier: although it is not in the imperfect tense but in the indicative present, the utterance on a tort is clearly not one that locutor S1 would take responsibility for. In other words, she cannot be the enunciator of on a tort but her boss is; he will say or would say that she and her other colleagues (on) are wrong and that the girl they dislike is right; indeed she reinforces that affirmation by saying that her boss will choose the girl over them. The free indirect utterance is in the present because the rest of the narrative is also in the present or the future but not in the past.26 In my corpus, free indirect speeches are more numerous than free indirect thoughts (twice as many occurrences). They usually are short passages following an Indirect or Narrated Discourse (for 66%

 Part II, Chapter 1

of the 39 occurrences). They can be used in narrative contexts (40%, (14)) but also in argumentative contexts (33% in pure argumentative sequences (15) and 25% in argumentative pseudo-narratives that illustrate a point). In all of these cases, free indirect speech stays within a context of ‘indirectness’ but it brings about a certain vividness that indirect speech does not have. There are two examples of free indirect thoughts above: from donc . . . to . . . vivantes in (14) and from et comme . . . to . . . fait in (16). Both follow thoughts reported in the direct mode, introduced by the verb se dire. It is clear that they continue to recount the thoughts of the speaker telling the story but what differentiates them from Direct Discourses, is the use of tenses: present and present perfect in Direct Discourses versus imperfect and future of the past in Free Indirect Discourses. Hence this fits perfectly with the basic description of Free Indirect Discourse: the discourse is syntactically independent (no explicit subordination to a verbum sentiendi) but the transposition of verbal tenses shows that these reported thoughts are subjected to the reference system of the quoting discourse; here first-person pronouns do not change because the speaker is also referred to in the first person (I tell what I thought). In examples (14), (16), the thoughts reported in the direct mode are relatively short and the free indirect thoughts that follow seem to lengthen the quotation while keeping a certain fluidity of expression. They give the impression of ‘inner speech’ but re-introduce the distinction between what the speaker thinks at the time of narration (present indicative, e.g. in (16): je crois que ça c’est important) and what he thought at the time of the story (indicative imperfect, e.g. était, and future of the past, e.g. serait). In the spoken corpus, a majority of free indirect thoughts appear in narrative sequences (72% of the 19 occurrences), in stories told in the first person (for 67% of occurrences) and/or in the past (67%), either after direct thoughts (44 %, see (14), (16)), or after Indirect and Narrated Discourses (28%). Even though the free indirect thought category is sometimes very close to pure narration or to Narrated Discourse (Fludernik 1993: 302), it is also a category that, like direct thoughts, can pretend to relate only verbal material even if it is of course but a subsequent verbalisation of verbal and non verbal phenomena. I have not discovered any example of Free Indirect Discourse that would stand at the end of the speech↔thought↔attitude continuum. However such examples would not seem to be impossible, especially if they came after a Narrated Discourse indexing an attitude, as shown is in the following example taken from modern French literature.

Contemporary spoken French 

(17) Zola, Nana, Chapter 5 Alors, seul avec Nana, cédant à une poussée de colère et de désir, Muffat courut derrière elle; et, au moment où elle rentrait dans sa loge, il lui planta un rude baiser sur la nuque, sur les petits poils blonds qui frisaient très bas entre ses épaules. C’était comme le baiser reçu en haut, qu’il rendait là. Nana, furieuse, levait déjà la main. Quand elle reconnut le comte, elle eut un sourire. – Oh! vous m’avez fait peur, dit-elle simplement. Et son sourire était adorable, confus et soumis, comme si ELLE EÛT DÉSESPÉRÉ de ce baiser et qu’elle fût heureuse de l’avoir reçu. Mais elle ne pouvait pas, ni le soir, ni le lendemain. Il fallait attendre. Si même elle avait pu, elle se serait fait désirer. SON REGARD DISAIT CES CHOSES. Enfin, elle reprit: – Vous savez, je suis propriétaire... Oui, j’achète une maison de campagne, près d’Orléans, dans un pays où vous allez quelquefois. Bébé m’a dit ça, le petit Georges Hugon, vous le connaissez?... Venez donc me voir, là-bas. [And, left alone with Nana, Muffat gave way to an impulse of anger and desire. He ran up behind her, and as she was on the point of entering her dressing-room, imprinted a rough kiss on her neck, among little golden hairs curling low down between her shoulders. It was as though he had returned the kiss that had been given him upstairs. Nana was in a fury – she lifted her hand, but when she recognized the Count, she smiled. “Oh, you frightened me!” said she simply. And her smile was adorable in its embarrassment and submissiveness, as though SHE HAD DESPAIRED of this kiss and were happy to have received it. But she could do nothing for him, either that evening or the day after. It was a case of waiting. Nay, even if it had been in her power she would still have let herself be desired. HER GLANCE SAID AS MUCH. At length, she continued, “I am a landowner, you know. Yes I am buying a country house near Orleans, in a part of the world to which you sometimes betake yourself. Baby told me you did – little Georges Hugon, I mean. You know him? So come and see me down there.”] (translation and punctuation by Henri Peyre, Collier-MacMillan Ltd, London, 1962: 147–8)

I will not deny that Free Indirect Discourse can be an efficient way to blur the distinction between speech and thoughts; indeed that distinction is not always needed, nor desirable (as we have seen above regarding the verb se dire and expressions such as genre and style).27 For example, in (15) above, one could interpret the Free Indirect Discourse on a tort as what the boss will think (il

 Part II, Chapter 1

pensera qu’on a tort ‘he will think that we are wrong’) rather than what he will say (il dira qu’on a tort ‘he will say that we are wrong’) although ultimately, if he were to choose the girl over the others, he would probably say why. Furthermore, in example (14), one could also say that the free indirect thought from donc . . . to . . . vivantes is in fact a qualification made a posteriori by the narrator: ‘what I was doing at the time was probably the only way to study another language by including it within my academic work’ versus ‘what I thought at the time was that the only way to study another language was to include it within my academic work’. Here my decision to interpret these two examples as free indirect speech and free indirect thought is thus partly subjective and based on my interpretation of the context as well as my analysis of the co-text (i.e. use of tenses). Conversely, in example (16), the segment ‘le plafond . . . casser’ could be interpreted as Free Indirect Thought but I choose to consider it as a description in the past since it did not contain extra pointers such as the future of the past used in the previous segment (j’allais . . . ça serait tout petit ça serait eu vite fait). (16 ) je m’étais dit euh sept mètres carrés ça va être très facile à chauffer aussi ça va euh chauffer rapidement bon le le plafond était pas très haut ça defai- ça devait faire deux mètres à tout casser + et + et bon je me disais ça va vite chauffer [I said to myself euh seven square meters it is going to warm up quickly well the ceiling was not very high not more than two meters if that + and + well I was telling myself it is going to warm up quickly]

But a simple manipulation of the co-text shows that this segment could be seen as Free Indirect Thought: (16 ) je m’étais dit euh sept mètres carrés ça va être très facile à chauffer aussi ça va euh chauffer rapidement bon le le plafond était pas très haut ça de- faiça devait faire deux mètres à tout casser + et + et bon ça allait vite chauffer. [I said to myself euh seven square meters it is going to warm up quickly so the ceiling was not very high not more than two meters if that + and + well it was going to warm up quickly]

It is thus very important to realise that Free Indirect Discourse exists in spoken French although not in the same form, nor with the same frequency, as it does in modern literary texts by authors such as Flaubert, Zola or Virginia Woolf. It is already worth noting that contrary to these literary authors, the average speaker rarely tells an oral narrative with the aim to portray in great details the psychological or sociological attitudes of characters, which is what these

Contemporary spoken French

authors use Free Indirect Discourse for (see Part II, Chapter 3). In my opinion, it is that reason rather than the unplanned nature of spoken conversations that explains the relative absence of Free Indirect Discourse in the oral corpus. In conclusion, Free Indirect Discourse does not seem to be very frequent in spoken French. In the case of thoughts and attitudes, its occurrences appear to be linked to very specific contexts and allow for a differentiation between the present thoughts of the speaker and the narration of thoughts and attitudes that took place in the past, presented in the vivid form of inner thoughts. In the case of speech, it can be used both in argumentative or narrative contexts. . Indirect Discourse In the corpus, 73% of reported thoughts and 97% of reported attitudes are in the indirect mode compared with only 45% for reported speeches (see infra).28 In Indirect Discourse, thoughts are categorised by means of their verba sentiendi so that we are not only dealing with thoughts in the sense of inner speech but also with attitudes (beliefs, opinions, . . .), what Chafe (1994: 220) calls ‘pseudo-indirect thought’. Here are a few examples: (18) Giovannoni, p. 2–3 [woman speaks about uprisings in the jail where her son is an inmate] + donc je me heurtais ++ à cette espèce de + de côté frileux des personnes qui + pensent que + heu si on /si, Ø/ se tient tranquille dans son coin + et qu’on se fait pas remarquer heu + c’est toujours mieux pour le détenu qui est à l’intérieur + moi de mon côté je pensais que au contraire/Ø, qu’/ il fallait remuer les choses + [+ so I was coming up ++ against this kind of + of cautious side of people who + think that + heu if one keeps quiet in one’s corner + and if one does not draw attention to one’s self heu + it is always better for the prisoner who is inside + I on the other hand I thought that on the contrary we should shake things up] (19) Mousset, p. 103 [conversation between friends] et on croyait qu’elle était morte de d’avoir perdu sa patronne tu vois [and it was believed that she died because she had lost her mistress you see] (20) Boavida, p. 5 [speaker speaks about her youth as an immigrant Portuguese in France] et je me souviens que j’étais très renfermée ++ et j’étais toujours que \ un petit peu dans mon coin ++ je disais rien \ j’étais





Part II, Chapter 1

[and I remember that I was very withdrawn ++ and I was always \ a little bit in my corner ++ I didn’t say anything \ I was] (21) Lefebvre, p. 42 [radioshow with singer Leo Ferré, who speaks about another singer] je me suis dit que on dit qu’elle a pas été à l’école mais quand même ah X elle a appris à écrire quoi [I told myself that they say she didn’t go to school but still she learnt how to write] (22) Tscharner, p. 50 [mock trial at a law school, defense attorney explaining his client’s actions] + Leduc qui ce soir n’a pas descendu sa poubelle comme d’habitude + mais un simple paquet de détritus + a la décence de ne pas le déposer devant la porte + d’autant plus + qu’aucune autre poubelle s’y trouve à ce momentlà + et va donc le déposer un peu plus loin + en face de l’immeuble près de son bureau de gardiennage + pensant que d’ici le lendemain + les camions de la ville l’auront ramassé ++ ceci fait + Leduc remonte chez lui + [+ Leduc who that night has not taken the dustbins down as usual + but just a bag of rubbish + has the decency not to place it in front of the door + all the more so as + no other can is there at this time + and therefore he goes to drop it a little further + in front of the building near the security office + thinking that come the next day + the town’s trucks will have picked it up + once it is done + Leduc goes back upstairs +] (23) Selin, p. 8 [a young woman describes how she was nearly run over by a car] + eh ben j’ai ma seule truc c’ét- il faut que j’arrive au car quoi j’ai pas du tout réfléchi qu’il pouvait y avoir une voiture que peut-être si je traversais + j’ai pas du tout réalisé ça quoi pour moi c’est mon but c’était de prendre le car [+ well my only worry was I must get to the bus so I did not think at all that there might be a car that maybe if I crossed the street + I did not realize that at all + for me my aim was to take the bus]

The corpus analysis shows that, contrary to what was the case for Direct Discourse, the verb se dire is not often used to report thoughts in an indirect way (21) (two occurrences for 1028 Indirect Discourses). Moreover, although the verb penser can be used without indexing an attitude of belief, the corpus does not yield many examples of that type (22), and only one example with the verb réfléchir (23) (‘to reflect’). As a matter of fact, going back to the notion of continuum developed in Part I, Chapter 2, Section 3.2, it is clear that the corpus’

Contemporary spoken French

indirect thoughts follow verba sentiendi that lean less towards the pole of inner speech (e.g. se dire, se demander, réfléchir, etc.) than towards the pole of attitude (from the middle of the continuum, e.g. estimer ‘to estimate’, trouver ‘to think’, juger ‘to judge’, to the right, e.g. croire ‘to believe’, comprendre ‘to understand’, craindre ‘to fear’, espérer ‘to hope’, être sûr “ to be certain’, etc.). So, on the one hand, the expression of direct thoughts joins the syntactic freedom and the non-transposition of the quoted discourse linked to the direct mode with the use of the relatively neutral verb se dire. On the other hand, the expression of indirect thoughts seems to couple syntactic subordination and transposition of quoted discourse with the use of ‘specialised’ verbs indexing a specific mental process or an internal attitude. These three remarks thus corroborate Chafe’s hypothesis that indirect thoughts are rarely presented as entirely verbal (inner speech), which is why he calls them ‘pseudo-indirect thoughts’ (Chafe 1994: 220).29 It is also interesting to note the high frequency of first-person expressions in the indicative present such as je pense que (‘I think that’), il me semble que (‘it seems to me that’), je me demande si / pourquoi (‘I wonder if / why’), je crois que (‘I believe that’), je trouve que (‘I think that’), which I described as ‘reflexive expressions’ in Part One, Chapter 2, Section 4.3.30 (24) Nevchehirlian, p. 9 [conversation about unions’ politics] mais moi personnellement enfin moi personnellement + XX si on avait pu tenir euh en encore quinze jours de plus je pense que ça aurait changé quelque chose + [as for me personally well personally I + XX if we had been able to hold euh for fifteen more days I think that it would have changed something +] (25) Cappeau, p. 55–6 [conversation between a customer and her builder] et oui je sais + et alors j’y dis ce euh il me semble que ça flatterait euh la propriété une clôture [yes I know + and then I said [to him] euh it seems to me that a fence would enhance the property] (26) Giovannoni, p. 24–5 [woman speaks about uprisings in the jail where her son is an inmate] Je me demande pourquoi l’administration pénitentiaire ne serait pas + contrôlée + à ce niveau. [I wonder why the prison administration could not be + controlled + at that level]



 Part II, Chapter 1

(27) Barallier, p. 10 [middle-aged women chat reminiscing about their childhood and their youth] non mais je crois que l’intérêt c’est de dire les choses euh comme on les a vécues [no but I think that what is of interest is to say things as we experienced them] (28) Cappeau, p. 8 [conversation between a customer and her builder] mais moi je préfère parce que je trouve qu’il y a pas beaucoup d’écart de prix entre un mètre cinquante et deux mètres je trouve que c’est mieux fermé [but as for me I prefer so because I think that there isn’t a big price gap between one meter and a half and two meters I think that it is better enclosed]

53% of indirect thoughts (140 of 245) and 53% (154 of 288) of indirect attitudes are comprised of these types of expressions and appear in argumentative sequences, sometimes in a diaphonic situation (‘I think that X while you think that Y’). In example (16) supra, I also mentioned the use je crois que in order to qualify the current narration of the speaker while the past thoughts and attitudes of the je character were expressed either in Direct Discourse or in Free Indirect Discourse. The context where thoughts and attitudes are reported thus affects the choice of category: either Direct Discourse (and to a lesser extent Free Indirect Discourse) for a total verbalisation of thoughts and attitudes, usually in narrative contexts, or Indirect Discourse for a more limited verbalisation in contexts that are often more argumentative than narrative. As I have already noted in Section 2.1 above, reported speech is not only expressed through Direct Discourse (39% of occurrences) but also through Indirect Discourse (45%), Free Indirect Discourse (4%) and Neutral Discourse (12%). Contrary to indirect thoughts, a majority of the 462 indirect speech occurrences are introduced by a verbum dicendi in the third person (60%, 275 occ.) rather than in the first person (29%, 132 occ.). Besides, more completive clauses use past tenses instead of the indicative present or future (39%, 178 occ. versus 16%, 87 occ.). More importantly, like indirect thought, indirect speech appears more often in an argumentative context than direct speech does. As a matter of fact, 51% of indirect speeches (234 occ.) appear in an argumentative context and 17% in an argumentative pseudo-narrative (79 occ.). These numbers are slightly lower but yet parallel to the use of indirect thought (65% in argumentative sequences = 357 occ.; 9% in argumentative narratives = 48 occ.). Like indirect thought, indirect speech also uses a greater diversity

Contemporary spoken French

of verba dicendi than its direct equivalent: only 60% of indirect speech appear with the verb dire (‘to say’) compared to 91% in direct speech (see also Vincent & Dubois 1997: 105). In short, Indirect Discourse, whether speech or thought, is primarily linked to argumentative contexts (pure argumentative sequences or argumentative pseudo-narratives, also see Vincent & Dubois 1997: 133). Indirect thoughts are more often used in these contexts than indirect speeches and the first are mostly used with the first person while the latter are linked to the third person, also using past tenses more often. In other words, one is more likely to quote one’s own opinions as such here and now (je pense que ‘I think that’, je crois que ‘I believe that’) while presenting others’ opinions as speeches in the present or in the past (X dit / a dit que ‘X says/said that’).31 This is particularly well illustrated in the following example: (29) Nevchehirlian, p. 9 [conversation about unions’ politics] ++ moi je pense comme ça il y en a il y a un camarade qui s’appelle Jean et qui pense pas comme moi + qu’il est à côté + par rapport aux étudiants + moi je pense que si les étudiants ils continuent comme qu’ils continuent comme ça ils aboutiront bon Jean lui pense autrement il dit que ça va se s’effri- s’effri- s’effriter + parce que les partis surtout le Parti Socialiste il + il veut le prendre de son côté [++ I think like that there is there is a comrade whose name is Jean and who does not think like I do + he is next door + regarding the students + I think that if the students continue like that they will succeed well as for Jean he thinks differently he says that it [the movement] will wear out + because the [political] parties especially the Socialist Party it + it wants to take it [the movement] over]

. Neutral Discourse The analysis of the spoken French corpus yielded 155 Neutral Discourses (9%) which is more than Free Indirect Discourses (4%, 71 occ.). It is thus an important category of S&TP, albeit one that is not usually taken into account.32 When studying the use of Indirect Discourses in the Spoken French corpus, one notices that some of them do not have a subordinating marker although they are obviously transposed into the quoting discourse and dependent on a verbum dicendi/ sentiendi.



 Part II, Chapter 1

(30) Cappeau, p. 64 [The speaker talks about her son (il ‘he’) and his house set in a high area (elle ‘it’)] moi je trouve qu’il est elle est bien il me dit il est bien la-haut hé bon [as for me I think that he is it is he tells me he is well up there so well] (31) Franke 2, p. 41 [An alcoholic patient speaks to his doctor] euh + je me sens en pleine forme c’est ça qui est le pire + vous direz oui je suis tout gaga ou euh + perds la tête [euh + I feel great that’s what is worst + you’ll say yes I am going completely gaga or euh+ loosing my mind]

Although they do not conform to the definition of Indirect Discourse in Normative French, these types of occurrences exist in other languages such as Modern Spoken English as well as Medieval French (see Part II, Chapter 2, Section 2). These ‘Indirect Discourses without que’, as I call them, prove that the use of a subordination marker is not inherent to the category of Indirect Discourse.33 Only the transposition of persons and/or temporal and spatial deictics is. Indeed, if the absence of ‘que’ does not preclude the advent of Indirect Discourse, its presence does not guarantee it either since que can appear in what has been described as a ‘Direct Discourse with que’.34 (32) Franke 1, p. 1 [An alcoholic patient speaks to his doctor] l’infirmière elle m’a dit que il faut que vous /partez, partiez/ avec l’ambulance /qui, il/ vous attend + elle m’a amené ici [the nurse told me that you must leave with the ambulance that is waiting for you + she/it took me here]

The corpus also contains examples that do not have a marker of subordination nor are they necessarily transposed. In other words, the personal pronouns, verbal endings, tenses and deictics of the quoted utterances would be the same whether in the direct or indirect mode (bold and underlined). (33) Tricon, p. 64 [The speaker is talking to a writer about her last novel, on a literary TV-show] et alors vous avez dit oh c’est très vrai tout ce que vous dites mais il y a une chose qui m’a frappée et vous dites elle ne pensait plus en français [then you said oh it is very true everything you say but one thing struck me and you say she wasn’t thinking in French any more] (34) Gautier C, p. 26 [speaker expresses her love for Alsace] on trouve tout + on a tout hein + mon père disait toujours on pourrait vivre juste en Alsace on a on a tout + tout ++

Contemporary spoken French Neutral

non transposed discourse DD For ex. DD with que

transposed discourse ID For ex. DD without que

Figure 14. Mixed discourse

[we find everything + we have everything + my father used to say we could live within Alsace only we have everything + everything ++]

Since the absence of que cannot in itself vouch for the presence of a Direct Discourse, we are dealing with what I term a ‘Neutral Discourse’ (see Figure 14). Only mimicking (imitation of accent or gestures) could be a strong indicator of Direct Discourse (Vincent & Dubois (1997: 34–36). However it is doubtful whether the speaker wants or needs to make a difference here. What is important is the content of the reported discourse and indeed most examples of Neutral Discourses are used in an argumentative context (69% in argumentative sequences = 118 occ.; 19% in argumentative pseudo-narratives = 19 occ.). Moreover the high use of verba dicendi and sentiendi in the generic present (80% of Neutral Discourses, 120 occ.) guarantees the permanence of the position asserted (33), (36). Like Indirect Discourse, Neutral Discourse is used mostly in argumentative contexts but it has a higher number of first-person examples (72%, 99 occ. versus 49% in Indirect Discourse) and it appears with speech rather than with thoughts (78% of speech, 119 occurrences versus 46% of speech in Indirect Discourse, see supra). (35) Nevchehirlian, p. 56 [conversation about unions’ politics] et puis je vais te dire bon si je serais pas d’accord euh je serais pas . à la CGT hein + bon tu me tu vas me dire ouais mais euh avec tout tu es d’accord +



 Part II, Chapter 1

[and then I will tell you if I did not agree euh I would not be a CGT member + well you will say yes but euh you agree with everything +] (36) Mousset, p. 52 [conversation between friends] et ouais mais ++ qu’est-ce que tu veux + c’est pour ça que je dis celui qui a sa place il se la garde actuellement hein ++ [yes but ++ what do you want + that’s why I say the guy who has a job he keeps it at the moment ++]

The use of first person and speech is significant because it does not involve a change of voice (the locutor is the same as the enunciator). So in cases where the quoted utterance is referring to the first-person speaker (35) or to a thirdperson referent (36), there is no need to signal the ‘quoting process’ by strong mimicking nor by a strong subordinating marker. We are here on the evidential side of S&TP, which Vincent and Dubois (1996, 1997) describe as the assertive pole of the continuum between reproduction and assertion (see Part I, Chapter 2, Sections 2.2 and 4.3). . Writing presentation The corpus does not show a lot of examples of writing presentation (54 occurrences, 3% of overall reported discourses) but this is relatively normal given the type of informal conversations examined. When it appears, writing presentation is more likely to be included in an argumentative context (59% pure argumentative sequences (39) and 19% argumentative pseudonarratives (38)). It often takes the form of a (Free) Indirect Discourse (63% (33), (35)) with an introductory verb in the third person (78% (38), (39)). Other contexts are rare but possible: example (33) follows a verb in the first person and is inserted in a narrative sequence while example (34) offers a Direct Discourse in the context of a literary TV show, where the host has the books he speaks about on hand. Specific verba scribendi are rarely used (11%, e.g. écrire ‘to write’) and most examples present a neutral verbum dicendi (faire savoir ‘to let somebody know’ (33), dire ‘to say’ (38), préciser ‘to note’ (39)) explicitly linked to written contexts (57%, e.g. letter (37), book (38), report (39)). (37) Giovannoni, p. 85–6 [woman speaks about uprisings in the jail where her son is an inmate] nous avons écrit une lettre ouverte au au directeur de la prison en lui disant que /nous, Ø/ tout ce que nous lui demandions en lui dis- en lui faisant savoir que nous étions + au courant de de ces actes de barbarie

Contemporary spoken French

du dimanche et que nous demandions la commission d’enquête nous /demandions, demandons/ la liste des blessés enfin + toutes + les revendications étaient dans cette lettre ouverte [we wrote an open letter to the prison director saying that all we were asking him letting him know that we knew about Sunday’s barbaric actions and that we were asking for an inquiry we were asking for a list of the people injured in short + all + the demands were in that open letter] (38) Tricon, p. 83–4, [Literary TV-show] S6 et ce que j’ai admiré dans le livre de S7 oui S6 Jeanne Castille c’est qu’à la fin de son livre elle dit + aujourd’hui j’ai soixante treize ans et je contemple mon oeuvre et par là j’ai l’impression d’accéder à une espèce d’éternité + [S6 and what I admired in the book of S7 yes S6 Jeanne Castille it is the fact that at the end of her book she says + today I am seventy three years old and I am looking at my work and in doing so I feel I am reaching some kind of eternity + ] (39) Tscharner, p. 35–6 [mock trial at a law school, defense attorney speaking]35 Alain Leduc ne peut être coupable + car même le rapport des experts- psychiatres n’est pas concluant + son caractère serait dominé parl’égocentrisme + une certaine exaltation passionnelle + quoi de plus naturel pour un homme + qui n’a jamais connu une véritable et sincère affection + à rechercher continuellement une amitié ou un bonheur qu’il n’a jamais connu ++ il serait même inaffectif selon ce rapport + cependant il est certain que la période à laquelle ont été + effectués ces tests médicaux + est une période de grande émotion + voire de crise où tout le poids de l’injustice + connu jusqu’ici par mon client + s’écroule sans crier garde + le rapport en guise de conclusion précise + que la personnalité de Leduc + est caractérisée par une intelligence normale + et sachant se dominer + [Alain Leduc cannot be guilty + since even the psychiatrists’ report is not conclusive + [apparently] his character is dominated by egocentricity + a certain kind of emotive exaltation + what is more normal for a man + who has never experienced any true and sincere affection + than to continually look for the friendship or the happiness that he has never known ++ [apparently] he is even unable to show love according to this report + however it is certain that the period when these medical tests were performed + is a time of high emotion + even of crisis when the whole weight of the injus-



 Part II, Chapter 1

tice my client had known until then + comes crashing on him without any warning + the report by way of conclusion notes + that Leduc’s personality is characterised by an average mind + and able to dominate itself]

In others words, in informal conversations such as these found in the corpus, writing is presented more as an approximation of the real written words and in order to fulfil an argumentative role, as the ‘authoritative words’ of the Other rather than one’s own. There is no doubt that ‘writing presentation’ would probably be more frequent if one were to study academic discourse or journalistic discourse (whether oral or written). It would also presumably use more Direct Discourses and thus carry a greater degree of faithfulness to the original written utterance.36 . Conclusion In conclusion, S&TP strategies can be described according to six main criteria: 1. Category: Direct Discourse – Free Indirect Discourse – Indirect Discourse – Neutral Discourse 2. Type: thought – attitude – speech – writing - ambiguous 3. Discourse sequence: argumentative context – narrative context – others 4. Tense of verba dicendi, sentiendi, et scribendi: present – past 5. Lexical value of verba dicendi, sentiendi, et scribendi: neutral – specialised 6. Person quoting: 1st pers. – 2nd pers. – 3rd pers. Because my analysis is based on an unusually large range of choice within these criteria, it undoubtedly gives a broader perspective on the various strategies possible in Spoken French and it shows that the area of S&TP studied by most linguists represents only a portion of what is going on. Most importantly, it identifies specific clusters that represent broad trends of S&TP strategies used in spoken French. Figure 15 shows seven clusters linking specific categories and types of reported discourses with particular co-texts and contexts. Here clusters are classified with regard to their relative size in the corpus (number of occurrences, from higher to lower) and their use in argumentative or narrative contexts (white versus grey backgrounds). Clusters 2, 3 and 4 are usually taken into account in most linguistic studies of S&TP: they represent the typical discourses in the past and in the third person, with direct thoughts (4) considered unambiguously as inner speech. However clusters 1, 5, 6, 7 and 8 are often disregarded although they account for an important part of S&TP strategies at

Contemporary spoken French

Figure 15. Analysis of spoken French corpus



 Part II, Chapter 1

large. This is because they include non-traditional elements such as thoughts, attitudes and writing as well as Free Indirect and Neutral Discourses, verba dicendi, sentiendi, and scribendi in the present tense and/or in the first person, etc. Because they are linked to argumentative contexts and use introductory verbs in the indicative present, clusters 1, 5, 8 (and sometimes 3) illustrate what Vincent and Dubois (1996: 78) call strategies of discourse presentation rather than speech reproduction.37

. A microanalysis of the corpus The above diagram does not show other less frequent strategies that were nonetheless found in the corpus: for example reported speech in the first person for narrative (DD) and argumentative purposes (ID) or reported thoughts in the third person. The present chapter has demonstrated that many strategies are possible (even the less studied ones such as attitudes reported in Direct Discourse) but that only a few appear to be favoured by speakers. The results presented at this stage characterise the Spoken French Corpus as a whole but a look at a set of eight specific texts will show that strategies (‘clusters’) differ from text to text, depending on the situation (topic of discussion, aims of interaction, speakers’ personalities, etc.). Moreover, the other chapters of this Part II will also examine how these strategies might differ in other speech genres, such as literary texts and journalistic texts. The eight excerpts chosen for further analysis illustrate the diversity characterising the whole corpus of 25 texts. Two of them, Balboa and Selin, are completely narrative in form and share the following features that differentiate them from the other texts of the spoken corpus: they contain significantly more reported discourses (16.7 per 1000 words for Balboa and 22 per 1000 for Selin). They use more reported thoughts and attitudes and more Free Indirect Discourses (both in percentages and in numbers). Predictably, they give more importance to reported discourses appearing in narrative sequences as well as metanarrative sequences. Moreover, since both of them are first-person narratives, they contain more first-person reported discourses (both in percentages and in numbers). The six other excerpts range from informal conversations to more formal discourse (e.g. a mock trial at a law school) and their focuses alternate between narrative or argumentative sequences and between the first-person speaker and the others.

Contemporary spoken French 

. Balboa (5100 words, recorded in 1991)38 This excerpt is a long monologue narrating a French graduate student’s exchange to the University of Salamanca (Spain). The narrative can be divided in several parts: the student’s decision to leave, his wait for an acceptance letter and then preparation for the trip, the trip itself, his arrival and feelings about settling in (in his student room and at the faculty), and his experiences in learning Spanish (language course, daytrips in the region, etc.). Everything in the narrative is related to the speaker’s personal experiences: he is thus both the main character of his stories in the past (the experiencing self) and the narrator in the present (the narrating self), which explains the high number of first-person reported discourses. As such, we have ample access to his thoughts and attitudes both at the time of the events (narrative sequences) and during the narration process (metanarrative sequences). While attitudes in the past are always reported either in Indirect or Narrated Discourse, thoughts are also often represented via Direct Discourse (and in fewer cases in Free Indirect Discourse). As shown in ex. (5), (6), (14), (16) above, Balboa’s speaker employs Direct Thoughts to portray vivid dialogues with himself at the time of the events, mainly to highlight crucial moments for him: his decision to go to Salamanca and his feelings once he is there. The importance of these direct thoughts (and occasionally free indirect thoughts) is highlighted (and contrasted) by their links to the present via indirect thoughts and attitudes in the first person (je crois ‘I believe’, je pense ‘I think’) where the narrator judges his past experiences and connects them to broader opinions, e.g. the advantages of learning a foreign language or the importance of openness to new experiences and new situations. These judgements in the present are linked to other metanarrative comments directed to the speaker’s addressee (tu vois ‘you see’, si tu veux ‘if you want’), some of them in indirect speech (inutile de te dire que. . . ‘no need to tell you that . . .’). Other indirect thoughts and attitudes in the present express the speaker’s hesitations about certain facts (je crois ‘I think, believe’), especially when he tries to remember what happened during his first day at the University. When describing his dealings with the outside world (e.g. travels), the speaker also uses more Direct Discourses than most other texts (including Selin), even though on balance Indirect Discourses are more numerous than Direct ones. These direct speeches appear very specifically at moments that are ‘problematic’ but ultimately successfully handled by the speaker in the past: e.g. planes delays at the airport, problems to buy a return train ticket during a daytrip. Other speech events of less importance for the personal development of the speaker are usually told in Indirect or Narrated Discourse.

 Part II, Chapter 1

. Selin (2250 words, recorded in 1991)39 In this dialogue, the speaker S1 (who is also the student recording the tape) asks her friend (S2) about her recent narrowly missed car accident: she ran across a street to catch a bus but slipped in front of a car that stopped just in time before being helped to the bus by her sister who attended the whole scene. Since everything happened very quickly and barely without any word being uttered, the narrative does not contain much reported speech (especially direct speech), which differentiates it from Balboa.40 While telling her story and answering S1’s questions, S2 constantly attempts to recollect what she felt at the time of the events. First, after describing the circumstances of the accident, she recalls her raw perceptions as she slipped and the car came towards her: she did not think about dying but she pictured the car running her over and moved her legs instinctively to protect them. The only direct thought used to describe the accident itself refers to what the speaker did not actually have time to think about (p. 10 ‘j’ai pas eu le temps de me dire j’ai peur je vais me faire écraser je vais mourir’ [I did not have time to tell myself I am afraid I am going to be run over I am going to die]). Otherwise, her thoughts and attitudes are conveyed by Indirect or Narrated Discourse (and occasionally with free indirect thoughts) and they contrast with first-person Indirect Discourses in the present (narrating self) underlining the blurring of her own recollections and expressing her hypotheses on what could have happened and what she thinks her sister did (see (2) above). Most of these metanarrative comments are reported thought and attitudes (je ne sais pas ‘I don’t know’, je ne me rappelle pas ‘I don’t remember’, je crois ‘I think/believe’) rather than speech (see Note 40). Second, S2 goes back to what happened just before the accident, when she saw the bus on the other side of the street. She repeats the same thought twice in Direct Discourse and once in Free Indirect Discourse to underline the single-mindedness (il faut que j’arrive au car ‘I must get to the bus’) that caused her lack of prudence (see (23) above). Third, she describes the protracted fear she felt once safe in the bus using a few direct thoughts that are quickly followed by free indirect thoughts. In other words, direct thoughts seems to be used only when the speaker is able to verbalise her feelings before and after the accident but not when she reacts instinctively during it, while free indirect thoughts look more flexible. Finally, it could be added that in both Balboa and Selin, the alternance between the narrating self in the present and the experiencing self in the past gives us access to two centres of perspective (or focalisers). On the one hand, through reflexive discourses in the present, the narrating selves reflect on their past actions, and through Direct, Indirect and Narrated Discourses in the past

Contemporary spoken French 

(speech and thought), they filter the story events through their perspectives as narrators/focalisers (using explicit verba dicendi or sentiendi: ‘I said / thought (that)’). On the other hand, through the use of free indirect thoughts (however rare they are), the lack of explicit verbum sentiendi gives us access to a different perspective, that of the I-character in the past, who then becomes the focaliser inside the story events. This process is usually described as internal focalisation in literary analysis as opposed to external focalisation.41 . Ghioldi (13182 words, recorded in 1991)42 In this excerpt, the speaker S1 (who is also the student recording the dialogue) asks her friend S2 about her profession and her experience as a young pharmacist. The conversation has a clear line of argument: according to S2, the profession has lost its prestige since pharmacists have become more akin to shopkeepers than to counsellors and customers have lost respect and trust in them. S2 illustrates her points through many examples and small anecdotes where S&TP appears mostly in argumentative pseudo-narratives (40% of reported discourses) or narrative sequences (34%). In fewer cases, she makes her views more explicit through S&TP in ‘pure’ argumentative sequences (25%). The pseudo-narrative sequences are either vaguely situated in the past or presented as repetitive: S2 tends to refer to herself in a generic mode (tu leur dis ‘you tell them’, le pharmacien leur dit ‘the pharmacist tells them’) and the reported discourses are short, isolated, either in the direct or indirect mode. (40) Ghioldi, p. 15 voilà tu vois ce que je veux dire il y a des il y a des vieux que si tu leur dis qu’une boîte de Temesta tu peux pas leur donner \ ILS TE FONT UN SCANDALE tu comprends ils dorment pas sans leur(s) m-médicament(s) voilà tu vois c’est des catégories de médicaments différents mais le problème est le même [there you see what I mean there are old people that if you tell them that you cannot give them a box of Temesta THEY MAKE A FUSS you understand they cannot sleep without their medicine(s) so you see these are different types of medicines but the problem is the same]

The narrative sequences are more precise in terms of time and they tend to stage dialogues in Direct Discourse between customers and S2 as character in the past (referred to as je) or her close colleague.

 Part II, Chapter 1

(41) Ghioldi, pp. 32–3 et donc /j’ai essayé, j’essayais/ de lui expliquer que sa fille avait raison quoi qu’il fallait pas qu’elle prenne ce genre de médicament(s) ah non non \ je lui /ai dit, dis/ je connais les médicaments elle /me, m’a/ dit je les connais aussi \ ces médicaments je lui ai dit que j’ai dit be alors j’abandonne [and so I tried to explain to her that her daughter was right that she should not take this type of medication ah no no I said I know these medicines she said I know these medicines too I said that I said well I give up then]

Because of the preference for both pseudo-narratives and narrative sequences, this excerpt contains more Direct Discourses than most other texts.43 Moreover, most reported discourses are reporting speech rather than thoughts and attitudes since what is important is what the customers say to the pharmacist, not what they think. Contrary to Balboa and Selin, this excerpt does not offer a full length first-person narrative but rather several short sequences that rarely use Free Indirect Discourse, contain less first-person than third-person references and are not interspersed with metanarrative comments. Indeed, firstperson reported discourses in the present tense are less common than in other texts (both in percentages and numbers)44 and, in any case, they are integrated as argumentative comments, in connection with other remarks addressed to S1 (je pense ‘I think’, je t’assure ‘I can assure you’, je trouve ‘I think’, je vais te dire ‘I will tell you’, je te dis ‘I am telling you’). . Giovannoni (12000 words, recorded in 1988)45 The speaker explains how she founded an association for the parents of prisoners at the Baumette prison in Marseilles. The format is a monologue although she makes several addresses to her interlocutors, i.e. the person recording the tape and the people who will listen to it. Her main focus is to fight against the poor living conditions of the prisoners in the face of what she sees as the authorities’ hypocrisy. Like in Ghioldi, the previous excerpt, she uses anecdotes in order to make her point, via S&TP (mostly speech) in narrative sequences (23%) and argumentative pseudo-narrative sequences (16%). There are no dialogues and, apart from a few Direct Discourses, both types of sequences predominantly use Indirect Discourses (unlike Ghioldi), possibly because most anecdotes rely either on her son’s experiences as a prison inmate or on what she learned from other prisoners, other associations, etc. These anecdotes thus present second-hand information and tend to portray characters others than the speaker herself: her son, other inmates and/or the prison authorities

Contemporary spoken French 

(guardians, directors), which partly explains the high level of third-person reported discourses (56%) in the excerpt. The main bulk of S&TPs appear in argumentative sequences (59%) either as speech or as thought. The speaker quotes the words of experts (e.g. doctors), political authorities and prisoners as arguments or counter-arguments, overwhelmingly in Indirect Discourse. Of course, she expresses her own opinions in reflexive discourses, i.e. first-person indirect speeches or thoughts in the present (je dis ‘I say’, je dois préciser ‘I must add’, , je pense ‘I think’, je crois ‘I believe’, je me demande see (26) above). Interestingly, she also uses what could be called reflexive discourses in the generic third person, such as quant on pense que ‘when one thinks that’, on se demande pourquoi ‘one wonders why’, on imagine ‘one can imagine’, on comprend ‘one understands’, on doit dire que ‘it must be said that’. (42) Giovannoni, p. 3 + nous avons actuellement des prisons en France qui sont + euh + pas du tout en accord avec la vie à l’extérieur + quant on pense qu’on est au vingtième siècle bientôt au vingt et unième + et que + la la la condition de vie dans les prisons est moyenâgeuse pour ne pas dire préhistorique + [+ currently our prisons in France are + euh + not at all in step with the outside world + when one thinks that we are in the twentieth century and soon in the twenty first + and that + living conditions in the prisons are medieval not to say prehistoric +]

Thus, instead of presenting opinions as her own only (je ‘I’), she extends them as coming from a generic locutor (on ‘one’) that potentially includes everybody, thereby calling for a stronger adhesion on the part of the interlocutors. Indeed these interlocutors are also directly addressed with the expression vous imaginez (‘you can imagine’), which is parallel to the generic one on imagine (‘one can imagine’). The presence of generic reflexive discourses and of quotes from third parties also explains the high number of third-person reported discourses. . Mousset (12000 words, recorded in 1976)46 This excerpt presents a conversation between four speakers. S1 and S2 are friends who used to work in the same semiconductor factory before S2 left (the year before): they gossip about colleagues and work conditions. S3 is a more recent friend and also the person recording the interview; she asks more general questions about the factory and about the village where S1 lives, which she is visiting for the first time. S4 is S1’s husband and arrives in mid conversa-

 Part II, Chapter 1

tion, thereby switching the topic to the new house he is building for the family as well as anecdotes about the region where they live. Reported Discourses are less frequent than in other texts (6.6 per 1000) but their frequency differs from part to part, e.g. they are higher in factory gossip or in anecdotes about the village. The variety of topics might also explain the relatively balanced repartition of S&TP between narrative sequences (39% plus metanarrative 9%) and argumentative sequences (42%). Many short narrative sequences are linked to factory gossip and to ‘peculiar facts’ that have happened in the region. Here the main characteristic seems to be the reportability of these events in the eyes of specific speakers: the gossip stories are interesting because S2 wants to catch up with what has happened in the factory and the anecdotes about the region told by the couple S1 and S4 have an unusual character (real estates scandals, discovery of a secret drug laboratory, suicide, cats and dogs run over by car, etc). Reported discourses used in these narratives mostly present speeches and are chiefly in the third person. In other words, the narrators (mainly S1 and S4) do not often speak about themselves but rather about other people without imagining their thoughts and attitudes. All the Direct Discourses of the excerpt report speech and are concentrated in the narrative sequences, even though Indirect Discourses are more frequent overall (59%). The argumentative sequences also contain a majority of speech, either in Indirect Discourse or in Neutral Discourse. They express the speakers’ own opinions in the first person and in the present (je pense ‘I think’, je crois ‘I believe’, moi je dis ‘personally I say’ see (36) above). However, the speakers also employ a significant number of argumentative indirect discourses in the third person, thereby backing what they say through the discourses of others (usually speech: il m’a dit que ‘he told me that’, il paraît que ‘apparently’, ils diront que ‘they will say that’, etc.). . Gautier E (3000 words, recorded in 1986) In this conversation between three speakers, S1, a Portuguese graduate student (who is also recording the tape) questions S2 and S3 about their work as cleaning ladies in her dorm as well as their opinions about foreign students, the rapport between Strasbourgeois and immigrants, their attitudes towards certain youths (punks) and their ideas about raising children. Predictably, answering these types of questions do not involve a lot of reported discourses (7 per 1000 words) and most of these appear in argumentative (71%) or argumentative pseudo-narratives (18%). The majority of reported discourses are in the first person (83%), many of which are reflexive (i.e. Indirect or Neutral Discourses in the present). The speakers tend to underline their own opinions

Contemporary spoken French 

as they speak, either as indirect thoughts (je pense, je crois, je trouve ‘I think’) or neutral speeches (je vous dis ‘I am telling you’, je dis ‘I say’). Some reported discourses appear in a few argumentative pseudo-narratives and one short narrative that illustrate the speaker’s points. These sequences offer the only three examples of direct speech present in the excerpt. . Nevchehirlian (12000 words, recorded in 1987)47 This excerpt is a political conversation between four speakers: S1 is the female student recording the tape and S2, S3 and S4 are male workers in a shipbuilding factory and members of the workers’ union. S2 and S3 are older and do the most talking but S1 is also very involved in the discussion, in which she often offers her own views without limiting herself to the simple role of interviewer. The main topic is the worsening of the working conditions at the factory for the past twelve years in parallel to the strengthening of the bosses’ power and the relative weakening of the union’s impact on workers. The frequency of reported discourses is fairly high (12.5 per 1000 words) and they are used chiefly in argumentative (73%) and argumentative pseudo-narrative sequences (24%). Many of them are reporting speech (57%) and the number of Direct Discourses is quite important with regard to other texts (24%). Most of them are Direct Speeches in the third person and they give a vivid and immediate feeling to both argumentative and pseudo-narrative sequences by portraying the actual speech of bosses and workers on an equal level: both exhibit characteristics typical of our speakers’ informal speech. (43) Nevchehirlian, p. 21 [conversation about unions’ politics] + c’était la révolution les patrons ils disaient oh ça va être la ruine du pays euh on va se casser la gueule patati patata et pourtant on a eu les quinze jours de congé(s) et ça a pas été la ruine du pays [+ it was the revolution the bosses said oh it will be the country’s downfall we are going to fall flat on our faces and so on and so forth and yet we got fifteen days of paid leave and it was not the country’s downfall]

S2 and S3 use reported speech in pseudo-narrative sequences in order to illustrate their arguments about the bosses and the workers’ behaviours. They do not often portray themselves in these sequences and when they do, they use the first person plural as they are viewing themselves in their position of union representatives (‘we, the Union’). As explained earlier in this chapter, argumentative sequences usually alternate indirect thoughts in the first person (moi je pense que ‘I think that’ and nous on pense que ‘we think that’) with indirect

 Part II, Chapter 1

speech in the third person (il dit que ‘he says that’)(see (24), (29) above). In addition, one also finds the highest number of reported discourses in the second person of the whole corpus (27% of reported discourses versus 39% for the first person and 35% for the third person). These are used by the speakers to present the point of views of their interlocutors, thereby introducing a diaphonic strategy within their own dialogues (see Part I, Chapter 2, Section 2.3 and see (35) above). Therefore, the discussion between the four speakers is neatly reproduced within their own discourses. . Tscharner (12200 words, recorded in 1976)48 This excerpt is fairly different from the others since it is part of the recording of a mock trial enacted by law students. The three speakers present the closing statements for the prosecution (S2) and the defence (S3 and S4). Here we are dealing with a typical type of ‘argumentative discourse’ since what is of essence is to prove the guilt or innocence of the accused. Obviously, a majority of reported discourses are to be found in argumentative sequences (47%) but importantly they are also very present in narrative sequences (37%) because of the rhetorical strategies at stake. On the one hand, the prosecution devotes a large part of its discourse to the exact chronology of the crime, emphasising the noble character of the victim and the weaknesses in the accused’s alibi. On the other hand, the defence narrates the hardships of the accused’s life and tries to dispel doubts about his alibi by recounting all his acts (and thoughts) during the evening of the crime and on the morning after. In both cases, the narrative sequences mostly contain Indirect Discourses in the third person and in the historical present. There are twice as many reported speeches as reported thoughts but in fact this ratio is quite low for such third-person narratives (compared to three of four times more in other comparable excerpts). Actually these ‘narrators’ are less afraid than others to imagine what happened in the mind of their main protagonist (ominous schemes in one case and honest innocence in the other, e.g. (22) above). The use of Direct Discourse (speech) is lower than most other excerpts (10% of reported discourses, 10 occurrences in narratives and 2 in argumentative sequences) and focuses on very important clues to the innocence or the guilt of the accused (e.g. the death threats he uttered towards the victim’s sister in law). In two of these cases, the quoting speaker highlights his reporting by using the expression et je cite (‘and I quote’).

Contemporary spoken French

(44) Tscharner, p. 17 [prosecution speaking about a witness’ testimony] + et avant même de savoir ce que l’on vous reprochait + il a indiqué spontanément + et je PRÉCISE bien spontanément + que vous êtes rentré vers vingt-et-une heure trente vingt-et-une heure quarante-cinq + et je cite son témoignage + nous étions en train de regarder la télévision + et l’émission en cours + une pièce + le lien + s’est terminée quelques minutes après la venue de de l’immeuble dans l’immeuble de Leduc + c’est la côte D trois du dossier + [+ and before even knowing the charges brought up against you + he indicated spontaneously + and I STRESS spontaneously + that you came home around nine thirty forty five past nine + and I quote his testimony + we were watching television + and the program + a theatre play + the link + ended a few minutes after Leduc came into the building + it is the reference number three in the file +]

As already mentioned, a majority of reported discourses appear in argumentative sequences. Most of them are third-person indirect speeches, based on witness accounts. These accounts are used by the prosecution to buttress its case but are criticised by the defence lawyers that also represent the discourse of the prosecution with an impersonal formula (on prétendra que ‘it will be claimed that’, on objectera que ‘some will object that’). The occurrences of second-person reported discourses, and thus of diaphonic strategies, are quite high compared to other texts, except for Nevchehirlian (18%). The prosecution uses them to address the accused directly (and aggressively) as if to prevent any of his denials (vous prétendez que ‘you claim that’, vous niez que ‘you deny that’, vous avez avoué que ‘you confessed that’). The defence employs them in a different way, to appeal to the president and the jurors by using indirect thoughts in the present, often in rhetorical questions (ne pensez/croyez vous pas que? ‘don’t you think/believe that?’). In comparison, the number of first-person reported discourses is low. They are used mostly in the present and in indirect speech (je vous rappelle que ‘I remind you that’, j’ai à répondre que ‘I must answer that’) since reporting the speaker’s thoughts might look too overtly biased to the audience. Tscharner is one of only two excerpts of the corpus that completely lacks in Neutral Discourse, which might tentatively be explained by the fact that the discourse is supposed to be of high register, given the formal situation.49



 Part II, Chapter 1

. Conclusion In conclusion, the in-depth study of eight specific excerpts confirms the broad trends outlined by the macroanlysis in Section 2, e.g. the affinities existing between Direct Discourse and narrative contexts, between Indirect Discourse and argumentative contexts, between first person and thought presentation, etc. It also adds new insights as to the links between S&TP and the situational context of enunciation: the specific topics at stake, the construction of the speaker’s persona, his/her relationship to the addressee(s) on the one hand and to the rest of the world on the other hand, etc. It allows for a better understanding of the distribution into first, second and third-person reported discourses and offers a more subtle understanding of the markedness of Direct Discourse (e.g. used to highlight important experiences in Balboa, to verbalise specific types of thought in Selin, to stress crucial testimonies in Tscharner, etc.).

Notes . For orality (the influence of spoken language on the production and the transmission of medieval texts), see Chapter 2. For oralisation (the imitation of spoken language for stylistic or rhetorical purposes), see Chapters 3 (modern literature) and 4 (contemporary written press). . For studies on S&TP in spoken French, see: Andersen (1999, 2000, 2002, 2004), AuthierRevuz (1985), Barallier (1984), Bertrand & Espesser (1998), Bertrand (1999), BlancheBenveniste (1991), Bres (1996, 1997, 1998, 1999), Bres & Nowakowska (2004), Charaudeau (1991), Delaveau (1988), Delomier & Morel (1986, 2002), Demers (1996), Demers (1998), Fleischman & Yaguello (2004), Fleischman (1998), Gaulmyn (1983, 1992, 1994, 1996), Grobet (2004), Hanote & Chuquet (2000), Hanote & Vallée (2001), Jacob (1987), Lebre (1993), Léon (1988), Loufrani (1983, 1985), Magaud (2004), Magro (2004), Marnette (2001, 2002a, b), Mochet & Cintrat (1995), Mochet (1993a, b, 1994a, b, 1996, 2000), Morel (1996), Norén (1999, 2000b, 2001), Perrin & Vincent (1996, 1997, 1998, 1999, 2001), Perrin (1995, 1999, 2000a, b, 2002), Peytard, Jean (1993), Rey-Debove (1983), Rosier & Mailleux (2002), Sihvonen-Hautecoeur (1993, 1996), Torck (1994, 2004), Vincent & Dubois (1995, 1996, 1997), Vincent (1989, 2002, 2004), Yaguello (1998). For studies on S&TP in spoken English, see: Blith et al. (1990), Chafe (1994), Dailey-O’Cain (2000), Ferrara & Bell (1995), Hickmann (1993), Johnstone (1987), Jucker & Smith (1998), Klewitz & Couper-Kuhlen (1999), Labov (1982), Linde (1996), Mayes (1990), Myers (1999), O’Kelly (1997), Tannen (1986, 1989), Wald (1987). . Many thanks again to Claire Blanche Benveniste and her team for giving me access to their corpus.

Contemporary spoken French . For the study of S&TP and pronunciation, see Bertrand & Espesser (1998), Delomier and Morel (1986, 2002), Demers (1996, 1998), Grobet (2004), Jacob (1987), Klewitz & CouperKuhlen (1999), Morel (1996). . These overlaps are marked by underlining in the original corpus but I suppressed that type of information in my examples, so as not to confuse it with underlined Indirect Discourses. . English translations are mine. I left sounds like heu, aie, ah as they were in French instead of trying to find equivalent sounds in English. . Only later texts of the corpus offer more detailed data. For enlightening sociolinguistic analyses of S&TP in French, see Vincent (2004), Vincent & Dubois (1996, 1997), Vincent & Perrin (1998, 1999). For English, see Dailey-O’Cain (2000), Ferrara & Bell (1995), Linde (1996). . Here are a few examples of different texts: chat and gossiping between friends (children in Brunet, adults in Mousset), political conversation between friends (Nevchehirlian), conversation between a client and a builder (Cappeau), people speaking about their profession (chat between a pharmacist and her friend in Ghiold, student interviewing a lawyer in Chervet), prosecution and defence’s speeches in a mock trial at a Law School (Tscharner), discussion between a doctor and his alcoholic patients (Franke), radio or television shows (Lefebvre, Tricon), narration of personal experiences (student exchange in Balboa, car accident in Selin, volunteering work in Asia in Vilagi, creation of a committee defending prison inmates in Giovannoni), etc. . Obviously, some oral discourses are prepared (e.g. political speeches) and some written ones are not (e.g. online internet chat). On differences between spoken and written discourse, see amongst other Chafe (1982, 1985), Chafe & Danielewicz (1987), Chafe & Tannen (1987), Ochs (1979) and Tannen (1982a, b, 1985). . As a reminder, Labov (1972: 359–60) defines ‘narrative’ as “one method of recapitulating past experience by matching a verbal sequence of clauses to the sequence of events which (it is inferred) actually occurred.” For him, a minimal narrative is “a sequence of two clauses which are temporally ordered: that is, a change in their order will result in a change in the temporal sequence of the original semantic interpretation” (1972: 360–1). Adam (1990: 87– 89) gives a definition rather similar to Labov’s that can be summarised as such: the sequence is constituted by a (minimal) temporal succession, i.e. an initial situation which is transformed and a final situation which appears as resulting from that transformation, and it has an end/aim which is expressed in a final evaluation or in an implied moral . While narrative clauses must be temporally ordered, ‘free clauses’ are not. Narrative clauses are used in the complicating action (the core of the story) and the resolution (final action) while free clauses are used in the abstract (what was this about?), the orientation (who?, when?, what?, where?), the evaluation (so what?) and the coda (bridging the narrative with the present). Note that evaluative clauses can interrupt the narration at any time; they are “the means used by the narrator to indicate the point of the narrative, its raison d’être: why it was told and what the narrator is getting at” (Labov 1972: 366). . Labov (1972, 1982) is fairly vague as to the exact functions of reported discourse. On the one hand, he clearly asserts that evaluative comments (see previous note) can be ex-



 Part II, Chapter 1

pressed by the narrator mentioning his own sentiment at the time of the events, or quoting what he said to somebody else or what somebody said to him (Labov 1972: 372–3). All his examples for these cases are Direct Discourses. On the other hand, he also gives examples where reported discourses are analysed as narrative clauses that are part of the complicating action (Labov 1972: 375, 1982: 231–2) but he does not discuss the fact that they are reported discourse, nor whether they are Direct or Indirect Discourses (both types are used). . As a reminder, here is how Adam (1990: 88) defines an argumentative sequence using Ducrot’s description of certain 17th and 18th-c texts (1980: 81): “their object is either to prove or to refute a thesis. In order to do so, they base themselves on premises – not always explicit – supposedly incontestable and they attempt to prove that one could not acknowledge these premises without also agreeing with such or such conclusion – this conclusion being either the thesis they set out to prove or the negation of the thesis they want to refute. And to go from the premises to the conclusion, they use different types of argumentative reasoning which seemingly no sensible individual could possibly refuse to undertake”. . Perrin and Vincent (1999: 304–5) give the following details about their corpus: “we limited our analysis to reported utterances that could naturally be introduced by a metadiscursive clause centred on the verb to say/tell and that referred to an act of speech (or thought) contextualized in the past. We excluded structures that could not be converted to direct speech – thus eliminating verbs of thought (I thought that P) or factitive verbs (We have learned that P).” They direct readers to Perrin and Vincent (1997) for an analysis of performative occurrences with speech acts uttered in the present (e.g. je dis ‘I say’). . In doing so, they clarify Labov’s treatment of reported discourse, which is somewhat vague (see Note 12 above). . I actually read their article after completing my analysis but was happy to find that the results were broadly similar, even though, once again, my definition of reported discourse is more extensive than theirs (including verba dicendi and sentiendi in the indicative present or future as well as thought and attitudes). . Note that the first frame corresponds to what Vincent and Dubois (1997) call pseudoreproduction while the second one is an ‘actualisation’ (see Part One, Chapter 2, Section 2.2). The expression moi je dis que introduces what they call an assertion. I would range moi je trouve que and moi je crois que in that same category but Vincent and Dubois do not include reported thoughts and attitudes in their analysis. . Neutral Discourse are cases where it is impossible to decide whether we have an Indirect Discourse without que or a Direct Discourse because in both cases the use of pronouns, deictics and tenses would be the same (Marnette 2001). Only intonations, mimics and gestures might signal the use of Direct Discourse but speakers might not necessarily want to make that distinction. See example (12) and Section 2.4 infra. . Because Narrated Discourses are so numerous and so difficult to identify (see Part I, Chapter 3, Section 2), I have exclusively selected these appearing in the co-text of other reported discourses. My sample is thus not representative of the use of all Narrated Discourses in the corpus and can not be directly compared to the exhaustive counts of other types of reported discourses.

Contemporary spoken French . I am including under the heading ‘Direct Discourse’ all the discourses that are reported but not transposed within the quoting discourse, i.e. traditional Direct Discourses (416 occurrences), Free Direct Discourses (i.e. without verbum dicendi, 48 occurrences), Direct Discourses introduced with que (6 occurrences) and Direct Discourses with a parenthetic expression (3 occurrences). In modern literature, free direct thoughts have been studied separately under the name ‘inner monologues’ but since I am focusing on spoken discourse, I will direct interested readers to Cohn (1978) for English and Rosier (1999: 271–7) for French (see also Part II, Chapter 3, Section 3). . Note that these expressions are sometimes also used with transposed discourses instead of Direct Discourses: Elle fait une tête GENRE tout le monde devrait être à ses pieds (‘She gets this look on her face, LIKE everyone should worship the ground she walks on’, example of spoken French taken from Fleischman & Yaguello 2004). Although expressions with genre and style are definitively increasing in spoken French, I did not find any of them in my corpus. This might be due to two reasons: the date of certain recordings (three go back to the 70’ and none came after 1993) and the fact that the speakers were usually not teenagers while these expressions first emerged in the ‘youth language’ and were only recently adopted by adults as well. The only example that came close to it is the following (Chervet, p. 52 [a lawyer describes his handling of certain cases in court]):

alors il y a deux façons de plaider devant le magistrat + il y a une façon + plaidoirie de rupture STYLE Vergès votre loi est mal faite + votre loi est complètement dépassée + vous ne devez pas appliquer votre loi parce que votre loi est mal faite et que forcément + demain + elle sera remplacée [so there are two ways to plead in front of the magistrate + there is the rupture plea in Vergès’ style your law is badly made + your law is completely outdated + you should not apply your law because your law is badly made and it is bound to be replaced + tomorrow] . There is a double embedding in this example, where a Direct Discourse is inserted in a Direct Discourse: Il m’a dit [. . . j’ai pensé [aie aie]]. . Collins (2001: 68) borrows this term from Lakoff (1984). . In his study of S&TP in classroom interaction, Baynam (1996: 78–9) also notes that Direct Discourse helps maintaining involvement and decreasing social distance between speech participants. . Amongst the corpus’ 71 Free Indirect Discourses, 39 represent speech, 19 thoughts, 7 writing and 6 are ambiguous. . The use of indicative present and even indicative future in Free Indirect Discourses is also found in medieval French (see Part II, Chapter 2, Section 1). . On the differences between Free Indirect Thought and Free Indirect Speech, see Leech & Short (1981: 344–5) and Fludernik (1993: 76–78). Also see Part II, Chapter 3, Section 2. . Remember that Narrated Discourses are not taken into account. The heading ‘Indirect Discourse’ groups traditional Indirect Discourses with a completive or infinitival clause (e.g. il m’a dit qu’il viendra ‘He said that he would come’, il m’a promis de venir ‘he promised to come’) but also Indirect Discourses without que (e.g. il m’a dit il viendra ‘he said he will



 Part II, Chapter 1

come’ see Marnette 2001) and transposed discourses with parenthesis (e.g. il viendra, il m’a dit /m’a-t-il dit ‘He will come, he said’). These are all reported discourses accompanied by a verb of speech/thought/attitude and transposed into the quoting discourse through the use of personal pronouns and verbal endings and/or deictics and/or tenses. The corpus offers 783 ID with completive, 116 ID with infinitive, 13 ID without que and 115 with parenthesis, i.e. 1027 occurrences of transposed discourses compared to 473 occurrences of non transposed discourses (Direct Discourses) and 156 Neutral Discourses (e.g. il m’a dit Paul vient ‘He told me Paul is coming’). . That speakers prefer Indirect Discourse to report thoughts, thus favouring the nonverbal side of mental experience, also fits one of Leech and Short’s hypotheses. In Style and Fiction (1981: 344–5), they submitted that the norm for representing speech in fiction was the direct mode, while the norm for representing thought was the indirect mode since the thoughts of others could not be directly observed. In subsequent research based on a broader written corpus (literature and press), Leech, Short and their team showed that internal states (what I call Narrated Discourses) accounted for most instances of reported thought presentation in every text-type studied (Semino et al. 1997: 29). Although this would call for a reformulation of their original idea, it still means that the preferred strategy for reported thought definitely points towards more control on the part of the quoting speaker (also see Part I, Chapter 3, Section 2.4 and Part II, Chapter 3). . I have included examples of reported thought and attitudes with parenthetical (e.g. . . . , je crois, . . . , je pense, . . . , à mon avis,. . . ), which one could also of course describe as modal since they convey the locutors’ attitudes towards the truth value of their utterances (see Part I, Chapter 2, Section 4.2–3). . Perrin (2000a: 101) makes the same observation for his own corpus of spoken French. . Some linguists mention the possibility of ‘indirect discourse without que’ in Spoken French but not of Neutral Discourse. Andersen (2002), Bauche (1928: 142) Frei (1929: 132– 3) Gadet (1992: 87) and Rosier (1995: 56, 60). Vincent and Dubois (1997: 34–36) are the only ones referring to Indirect Discourse without que as well as to some trickier occurrences that would fit under my heading of Neutral Discourse. . ‘Indirect Discourses without que’ are rare in Spoken French (13 occurrences for 1727 reported Discourses = 0.7%). For examples in Medieval French, see Part II, Chapter 2, Section 2. Also see Marnette (2001). Collins (2001: 103–104) finds similar examples in Old Russian, as well as occurrences of Neutral Discourse. . Direct Discourses with que’ are rare in Spoken French (6 occurrences for 1727 reported Discourses = 0.3%). For examples in Medieval French, see Part II, Chapter 2, Section 2. For examples in Modern French press, see Part I, Chapter 3, Section 2.3 and Part II, Chapter 4, Section 5. Also see Marnette (2001). . This example contains two occurrences of so called ‘press conditional’ within the Free Indirect Discourses (serait, serait), which are impossible to accurately translate in English unless one adds the modaliser [apparently], as I explained in Part I, Chapter 3, Section 3.1. The conditional presents the discourses as coming from a source other than the quoting speaker, who therefore does not take responsibility for them. This is reinforced by the use of the expression selon ce rapport (‘according to this report’) in the second Free Indirect

Contemporary spoken French 

Discourse. This rejection of responsibility is probably due to the fact that the defence attorney, while forced to acknowledge the content of the psychiatrists’ report, tries to explain its harshness by the circumstances surrounding his client’s life. Note that the report’s conclusion, which is much more favourable to his client, is reported in Indirect Discourse and without any conditional. . This could be done through the use of traditional Direct Discourse or of Direct Discourse with que. While Short et al. (2002) stress the higher degree of faithfulness of ‘writing presentation’, they also make it clear that it is linked to their written corpus (i.e. they examine formal written reports of writing using the direct presentational form, which appear mostly in (auto)biographies and the press but not so much in novels). . Vincent and Dubois’s framework would not include clusters 1, 7, 8 since the two linguists exclude reported thoughts (except Direct Discourse with se dire ‘to tell oneself ’) and Free Indirect Discourses from their corpus. . For examples taken from this excerpt, see ex. (5), (6), (14), (16) above and Part I, Chapter 2, ex. (17); Part I, Chapter 3, ex. (3), (5), (9), (12) = (41). . For examples taken from this excerpt, see ex. (2), (23) above and Part I, Chapter 2, ex. (22), (23); Part I, Chapter 3, ex. (10), (66). . The only occurrence of Direct Speech is the sister’s signalling that the bus has arrived. All other occurrences of reported speech are first-person Indirect Discourses in the present (i.e. metanarrative comments je pourrais pas dire, je veux dire, disons que, . . .). . See Note 18 in Part I, Chapter 2 as well as Part II, Chapter 3 for more detail. . For examples taken from this excerpt, see ex. (12 above and Part I, Chapter 3, ex. (1), (8), (42), (49). . 42% except Lefebvre 70% of RD and Chervet 46%. . Only 18% of first-person reported discourses are reflexive, which is less than in other texts (1.9 per 1000 words compared to an average of 2.4 in the corpus). . For examples taken from this excerpt, see ex. (11), (18), (26), (37) above and Part I, Chapter 2, ex. (20), (24), (30), (39); Part I, Chapter 3, ex. (36). . For examples taken from this excerpt, see ex. (15), (19), (36) above and Part I, Chapter 2, ex. (1, (25, (26), (35); Part I, Chapter 3, ex. (19), (77). . For examples taken from this excerpt, see ex. (24), (29), (35) above and Part I, Chapter 2, ex. (3), (6), (9), (9 ), (10), (27), (38), (41); (Part I, Chapter 3, ex. (15), (44), (67). . For examples taken from this excerpt, see ex. (22), (39) above and Part I, Chapter 2, ex. (15), (16), (19), (21), (28); Part I, Chapter 3, ex. (65), (75). . However this explanation is less relevant for Gautier A, the other text lacking Neutral Discourse, which is an informal conversation between several female speakers.

Chapter 2

Medieval literature

.

Introduction

After briefly describing the three conventional categories of Speech and Thought Presentation used in Medieval French texts (Direct, Indirect and Free Indirect Discourses), I will explore less traditional categories found in these texts, such as ‘direct discourse with que’ and ‘indirect discourse without que’. More specifically, I will reflect on the relationships existing between the various forms of S&TP that developed in medieval literature and I will then examine how the range of ‘functions’ associated with specific ‘forms’ of reported discourse can be assembled into particular strategies that determine distinct literary genres. In doing this, I will consider S&TP strategies as one of the dominant features which Jauss (1970, 1982) says are constitutive of medieval genres, allowing them to constantly re-define themselves through each new text, often in imitation of or against other genres. S&TP strategies will thus be shown to affect aspects as diverse as the connection between the narrator and the audience or the apparent ‘control’ of the narrator over his/her characters’ discourses as well the representation of notions such as ‘truth’ or ‘history’.

. Elaboration of form In this section, I will mostly focus my attention on the narrator reporting the discourses of his/her characters and less on the characters reporting the discourses of other characters (or their own). So in most instances, the term ‘quoting speaker’ will freely alternate with that of ‘narrator’ and the term ‘quoted speaker’ with that of ‘character’. The 39 texts composing the corpus are listed in Appendix 3. There are 8 chansons de geste (epics in decasyllabic verses), 3 vies de saint (hagiographical narratives in decasyllabic verses), 9 verse romances (octosyllabic verses), 9 prose romances, 9 prose chronicles (historical narratives) and 1 chantefable (text alternating paragraphs in verse and in prose).1

 Part II, Chapter 2

The three ‘conventional’ categories of reported discourses are already present in Medieval French. Direct Discourse can appear after a verbum dicendi/sentiendi (1a) and/or with an inquit formula (1b). It can also be used without any introductory clause, usually within a dialogue or after Narrated Discourses and verbs of perception (2) (Free Direct Discourse). (1) Perceforest, §9, lines 339–42 Lyonnel, qui estoit le plus entreprenant, escria au chevalier et dist: ‘Sire, attendez un petit, et que nous puissons parler a vous. - Beaux seigneurs, respondy le comte, aucunement je ne doy point attendre, ains vous hastés se vous voulez parler a moy.’ [Lyonnel, who was the most enterprising, called the knight and said: ‘Sir, wait a little so that we might speak to you. – Good lords, answered the count, in no way should I wait, on the contrary hurry up if you want to speak to me.’] (2) Raoul de Cambrai, 6120–1 Ele le voit, cel recognuct molt bien. ‘Dont viens, amis, por le cors saint Richiel?’ [Seeing him, she recognized him perfectly. ‘Where do you come from, friend, by St Riquier?’]

Indirect Discourse is also used in its modern form. However, since in Old French literature, the story is often partly told in tenses linked to the present (indicative present, present perfect and future), Indirect Discourse can retain these tenses instead of using the past (Fleischman 1990).2 (3) Le Chevalier au Cygne, 4512–4 Mais ele set tres bien et pense en son corage Qu’ele a par son mesfait eü cest destorbage Et perdu son segnor qui tant ot vaselage. [But she knows well and thinks in herself that she has brought that trouble about because of her wrong doing and thereby lost her lord who was so valiant.]

In Medieval French, Indirect Discourse can also be expressed in an infinitival clause with or without a preposition: (4) Commynes, Mémoires, lines 160–3 La conclusion dudit duc Philippes fut fort humble et saige, suppliant au roy ne vouloir legierement croire contre luy ne son filz et l’avoir tousjours en sa bonne grace.

Medieval literature

[The aforementioned Duke Philip’s conclusion was very humble and wise, pleading with the king not to believe lightly anything said against him or his son and to always keep him in his good grace.]

As with Indirect Discourse, the tenses of medieval Free Indirect Discourse are not necessarily in the past because the narration itself is partly told in the present tenses (5). This is why modern scholars have had some difficulties in identifying examples of Free Indirect Discourses in Old French, but a quick look at the other examples given in the course of this chapter will show how unproblematic this category actually is ((12), (23), (47), (48)).3 Moreover it is important to remember that Free Indirect Discourse does not always follow an Indirect Discourse but can appear on its own (5). There are also cases where the Free Indirect Discourse does follow an Indirect Discourse but could not semantically be subordinated to its verbum dicendi (6). (5) Le Chevalier au Cygne, 3129–3136 Mirabels de Taburs et Foucars de Riviers Offrent l’empereor raencon et deniers D’or quit et de mangons et de bons pailes ciers Et si seront si home a tos jors volentiers. Mais il en jure Deu, qui est vrais Justiciers, Qu’il n’en prendroit Orliens ne Cartres ne Peniers. Ans .II. les fist detraire a cevals de somiers Et les autres fist pendre sor les mons es loriers. [Mirabels de Taburs and Foucars de Riviers offer the emperor ransom and deniers of cooked gold and coins and nice expensive silken brocades. And they will be his men always willingly. But he swears by God, the true dispenser of justice, that he would not take Orleans nor Chartres nor Peniers for it. On the contrary he had these two torn apart by pack horses and he had the others hung on the hills, up the bay trees.] (6) Le Roman du Graal (prose), page 36, lines 2–8 Ensi envoia l’emperere des plus sages homes de sa cort por ceste cose savoir s’il estoit ensi com li pelerins li avoit conté. Et si li prophetes estoit mors, c’on li aportast aucune cose a quoi il eüst atoucié por le garison de son fil. Ensi se partirent li mesage a l’empereor de Rome et vinrent en le terre de Judee. [So the emperor sent some of the wisest men of his court to inquire about this, if it was as the pilgrim had told him. And if the prophet was dead, one should bring him back any thing that he might have touched in order to cure his son. So the messengers of the emperor of Rome left and they arrived in the land of Judea.]



 Part II, Chapter 2

What I call ‘DD with que’ mixes Direct Discourse features (non-transposed spatio-temporal deictics, tenses, persons) with Indirect Discourse features: subordination with que (or similar conjunction) and/or transposition of part of the quoted discourse within the quoting speaker’s hic et nunc.4 The following examples illustrate different types of ‘DD with que’ ranging on a continuum going from the pole of Direct Discourse to the pole of Indirect Discourse.5 – que is directly followed by Direct Discourse (7) Le Roman du Graal (prose), page 66, lines 29–33 Et Joseph respont que: ‘Miels vous counoist il que vous meïsmes ne vous conissiés. Mais tant vous prions nous par amor et par compagnie que vous nous dites quel part vostre cuers vous trait a aler.’ [And Joseph answers that: ‘He knows you better than you know yourselves. But we pray you, by love and friendship, that you tell us where your heart impels you to go.’]

– Indirect Discourse followed by Direct Discourse with an inquit formula (syntactically attached to the Indirect Discourse, or not) (8) Lancelot du Lac, page 188, lines 3–5 Lors lo trait a une part, si li dit que sa Dame del Lac l’anvoie a lui. ‘Et demain, fait ele, savroiz vostre non et lo non vostre pere. [. . . ]’ [Then she draws him to one side and she tells him that her Lady of the Lake is sending her to him. ‘And tomorrow, she says, you will know your name and the name of your father. [. . . ]’] (9) Erec et Enide 3067–71 [...] dist que mal a esploitié ne n’a mie de la mité tant mal com ele a desservi. ‘Lasse, fet ele, si mar vi mon orguel et ma sorcuidance [...]’ [[...] she said she had acted badly, and had not by half as much misfortune as she deserved. ‘Alas, says she, how I rue my pride and my effrontery! [...]’]

– Indirect Discourse followed by Direct Discourse. No inquit formula but clear link between the two reported discourses (possibly of syntactic nature, e.g. connective)

Medieval literature 

(10) La Prise d’Orange, Ms AB, 1440–42 Adont se prend forment a dementer comment il puisse de leanz eschaper ‘Quar n’i fui onques ne ne sai ou torner.’ [Then he begins to worry, wondering how he could escape from there. ‘For I have never been there and I do not know where to go.’]

– Indirect Discourse followed by Direct Discourse. No inquit formula and no clear link between the two reported discourses (no syntactic connection) (11) Le Roman de l’estoire dou Graal, 1135–40 La eut Pilates un ami Qui dist qu’il n’estoit pas ainsi: “Pilates est mout vaillanz hons Plus que dire ne pourrïons; Pour rien feire ne le leissast, Se il contredire l’osast.” [A friend of Pilate was there, who said that it was not so: ‘Pilate is a very worthy man, more than we could say; he would not have let him do that for any reason, if he had dared to contradict him.’]

This category is often mentioned in recent Old French grammars and has been studied in four main articles, under slightly different names: ‘Discours direct lié’ (Spitzer 1946), ‘Style direct avec que’ (Meiller 1966), ‘Emergent Direct Discourse’ (Lacy 1994) or ‘Discours direct introduit par que’ (Bruña-Cuevas 1996).6 Although the topic of ‘DD with que’ is relatively well known, there is no statistical study of its occurrences in medieval literature, nor is there a truly convincing explanation for its use. Most philologists agree that this construction shows an Old French trend to anchor reported discourses to the reference points of the original situation of enunciation, that of the character, rather than that of the narrator (Meiller 1966: 363; Bruña-Cuevas 1996: 35; Buridant 2000: 580). In other words, the reason for the use of ‘DD with que’ is that Indirect Discourse tends to drift back towards Direct Discourse. This view is not incorrect of course – witness the enormous amount of Direct Discourses in most medieval texts in contrast with the lesser use of Indirect Discourse and Free Indirect Discourse (except for the Lais de Marie de France and nearly all chronicles). It is however an oversimplified view of the strategies at stake in medieval literature. Based on my own corpus of 39 texts,7 containing a total of 16447 reported discourses, the use of ‘DD with que’ is fairly rare. Eight of the 39 texts do

 Part II, Chapter 2

not contain any: Alexis ms H, ms M2, and ms S, Charlemagne, Huon, Guillaume, Villehardouin, Commynes, Monstrelet and Berry.8 As a whole the corpus, contains 184 ‘DD with que’ (i.e. Direct Discourse following an Indirect Discourse, 1.1% of the overall number of reported discourses), which is similar to the number of Free Indirect Discourses following an Indirect Discourse (201, 1.2% of the total of reported discourses).9 This similarity shows that we are not purely dealing with a trend towards more Direct Discourse. But rather that there are possibilities to switch progressively from the narrator’s discourse (narration) to a first situation of reported discourse still under high narrator’s control (Indirect Discourse or even just the introductory verb followed by que (7)) towards a reported discourse that takes away some control from the narrator and moves towards the pole of the character. This can be done either by switching tenses, deictics and grammatical persons (‘DD with que’ keeping the subordination ((7), (8), (10)) or not ((9), (11)), or by keeping the tenses and grammatical persons of the quoting discourse while getting free of the subordination marker (Free Indirect Discourse). ‘DD with que’ is thus clearly an alternative to Free Indirect Discourse following an Indirect Discourse and most texts show a preference for one construction or the other. Several occurrences even switch from Indirect Discourse to Free Indirect Discourse to Direct Discourse especially in verse romances: (12) Yvain, 2720–32 Si dist que sa dame salue le roi et mon seignor Gauvain et toz les autres, fors Yvain, le mançongier, le guileor le desleal, le tricheor, qu’il l’a guilee e deceüe; bien a sa guile aperceüe, qu’il se feisoit verais amerres s’estoit fos, souduianz et lerres ‘Ma dame a cil lerres souduite qui n’estoit de nus max estruite ne ne cuidoit pas, a nul fuer, qu’il li deüst anbler son cuer. [. . . ]’

[She said that her lady sends greeting to the king and my lord Gawain and all the others, except Yvain, the liar, the deceiver, the unfaithful one, the cheat, for he has beguiled and deceived her; She had clearly seen through his guile, for he had acted like a true lover, but was a cheat, a seducer and a thief. ‘This thief has seduced my lady, who had not experienced such evil and could never have believed that he could steal her heart. [. . . ]’]

The transfer from (Free) Indirect to Direct Discourse is also facilitated by the fact that the tenses of Indirect Discourse (and of the whole narration) are often in the present or the future but not in the past, especially in verse texts. Indeed 36% of ‘DD with que’ (66 occurrences) follow an Indirect Discourse that con-

Medieval literature

tains one or several tenses in the indicative present, present perfect and future, instead of the past and the conditional ((8), (9)). In that case, the only change brought up by ‘DD with que’ is a switch to the grammatical persons and the deictics of the quoted discourse.10 Except for Perceforest, Orange AB (both low amount of each) and Erec & Enide (1.4% ‘DD with que’, 1.7% Free Indirect Discourse), Dole (1.2% for both) and Ombre (2.1% for both) , one can notice some patterns characteristic of specific genres. A majority of prose romances use ‘DD with que’ rather than Free Indirect Discourse and they tend to offer more occurrences of que + Direct Discourse or constructions with an inquit formula than most other texts. When they use constructions without any introductory verb, they overwhelmingly use a strong connective link to the preceding Indirect Discourse (e.g. et, car, mais). The prose texts contain only 3 instances of Direct Discourses following an Indirect Discourse without an inquit formula and without a clear syntactical link (one in Perceforest, one in Saintré and one in Joinville). This means that, as a whole, they keep a strong distancing between quoted discourse and quoting discourse and they clearly identify who is speaking, which is in line with the general characteristics of prose texts (see infra). Verse romances, except for the Graal, use more Free Indirect Discourses than ‘DD with que’. They all use more than 0.8% ‘DD with que’ (with regard to the total amount of reported discourses) and more than 1.7 % Free Indirect Discourse following Indirect Discourse (12% in the Lais!). They do not use que + Direct Discourse (except one example in the Graal and Eracle) and many of them use constructions without introduction and without a clear link between Indirect Discourse and Direct Discourse (except Erec, Ombre, Eracle). This shows a tendency towards a smoother transfer from higher control on the part of the narrator (Indirect Discourse) to lesser control (Direct Discourse, Free Indirect Discourse) . Indeed several occurrences in the verse romances go from Indirect Discourse to Free Indirect Discourse to Direct Discourse (see (12)). The chansons de geste of my corpus do not use que + Direct Discourse, nor Indirect Discourse followed by Direct Discourse with an inquit formula. The switch between Indirect Discourse and Direct Discourse is thus not overmarked but either progressive, with a syntactical link in half of the occurrences (7 examples) or swift, with no link in the other half (8 examples). In general, the chansons de geste do not use many ‘DD with que’ (15 examples, 0.5% of reported discourses) nor many Free Indirect Discourses after Indirect Discourses (13 examples, with 1.2% in Roland and 1.9 % in the Cygne being exceptions rather than the norm). Charlemagne uses neither of these constructions. Of course, this goes hand in hand with the fact that chansons de geste’ narrators do not much use Indirect Dis-



 Part II, Chapter 2

course: less than 8%, i.e. less than in any other text of the corpus, except for two later chansons (Cygne 22%, Nanteuil 18%). The characters’ discourses are reported as if they were uttered in front of the audience, in a performance (Direct Discourse) rather than as distanced in the past (Indirect Discourse) (see infra). Finally the chronicles are quite varied in character. Villehardouin’s Prise de Constantinople uses neither ‘DD with que’ nor Free Indirect Discourse after Indirect Discourse. Clari, Joinville and Froissart 2 use more ‘DD with que’ than Free Indirect Discourses while Commynes, Monstrelet, Berry, Froissart 1 and 3 do the contrary. What I call ‘ID without que’ is a reported discourse that is transposed within the reference frame of the quoting speaker and dependent on a verbum dicendi but without a specific marker of subordination such as que, etc. (Marnette 1999a, 2001). (13) La Vie de Saint Alexis, Ms M2, 116–7 Dont crïent il mout s’ame se soit perdue Et al juïse devant Dieu confondue. [Then he is very afraid [that] his soul might be lost and disgraced in front of God, on Judgement Day.] (14) La Prise d’Orange, Ms CE, 1196 Mahomet jurent vengement en ert pris; [By Mohammed they swear vengeance will be had.] (15) Béroul, Le Roman de Tristan, 1702–3 Dit mex veut estre mis au vent Que il de lui n’ait la venjance; [He said [that] he would rather have his ashes scattered to the wind than fail to take revenge.]

Like ‘DD with que’ this type of reported discourse while absent from modern literary French is present in informal spoken French (Marnette 2001, see Part II, Chapter 1, Section 2.4).11 Philologists are more aware of the existence of ‘ID without que’ than modern linguists are. However they rarely describe it as a special type of reported discourse but rather include it in the general use of paratactical features characteristic of medieval texts, especially older ones. Besides, their descriptions and explanations are often vague and sometimes contradictory.12 It is important to note that this category is not similar to that of Free Indirect Discourse (which is sometimes wrongly called ‘ID without que’). As I have said above, Free Indirect Discourse can appear on its own without any

Medieval literature 

verbum dicendi (see (5) supra). In other cases, it might follow an Indirect Discourse but without being syntactically linked to it or even sometimes without being semantically suitable for that verbum dicendi (see (6) supra). However, in the case of ‘ID without que’, the verbum dicendi can clearly not stand on its own, e.g. *Dont crient il mout in (13). So although the subordination is not expressed syntactically, it is expressed morphologically (transposition of persons and sometimes of tenses) and semantically. There are only a few cases where hesitation might occur because a verb such as menacer (16) can both stand on its own (Narrated Discourse describing a speech act) or introduce a completive (Rychner 1990: 200). In the first case, we are dealing with Free Indirect Discourse (following a Narrated Discourse), in the second with ‘ID without que’. (16) Béroul, Le Roman de Tristan, 1949–50 S’il les trove, molt les MENACE Ne laira pas ne lor mesface [Were he to find them, he THREATENS them: he will not fail to kill them.]

It is difficult to summarize in a few lines how ‘ID without que’ is used in Old French, especially since it definitely plays various roles in different genres and in distinct contexts within the same genres. There is a total of 86 occurrences of ‘ID without que’, i.e. 0.5% of the overall number of discourses reported by the narrator (less than ‘DD with que’ or Free Indirect Discourse). The use of this category is very much restricted to the chansons de geste and verse texts, and almost absent from prose texts (1 occurrence in Graal, Commynes and Monstrelet).13 Moreover since one finds ‘ID without que’ even in later chansons de geste (Cygne, Huon, Nanteuil), it seems that it is not linked to chronology but to genres.14 As with ordinary Indirect Discourse and Free Indirect Discourse, there are many occurrences where the tenses of the completive are linked to the present and not to the past.15 The potential lack of differences between the tenses of quoted and quoting discourse and the absence of subordinating marker show that Indirect Discourse is essentially defined by the transposition of deictics and persons. Indeed 14% of the occurrences of ‘ID without que’ in the narrative discourse are what I have called ‘neutral discourses’: there is no difference between Direct Discourse and Indirect Discourse because the pronouns and tenses would be the same in both situations, as is shown in (14) (see Part II, Chapter 1, Section 2.4):16 Mahomet jurent vengement en ert pris / Mahomet jurent: ‘Vengemement en ert pris!’. These reflections thus indicate once

 Part II, Chapter 2

again that the relationships between Direct Discourse and Indirect Discourse are best seen as a continuum. Furthermore one quarter of ‘ID without que’ are followed either by Free Indirect Discourses or by Direct Discourses (classified as ‘DD with que’). It is more likely to be Free Indirect Discourse in the case of verse romances and Direct Discourse in the case of chansons de geste. This shows once more the trend towards a progressive shift from the narrator’s discourse (narration) to that of the characters. This is especially true when looking at the use of Free Indirect Discourse in combination with other ‘mixed discourses’ in verse romances (see supra), which therefore tends to allow for a smoother progression and for more ambiguities as to what is the point of view of the narrator and that of the characters (Marnette 1998: 174–84; Perret 1997: 17, see infra). For reasons linked to prosody, pragmatics and narratology, chansons de geste tend to prefer the use of Direct Discourse or more rarely ‘DD with que’ when the narrator quotes characters but they use more Free Indirect Discourses and ‘ID without que’ when characters quote other characters (Marnette 1999a and see Section 3 infra).17 The quasi absence of ‘ID without que’ in prose texts can be linked to their low use of Free Direct Discourses (i.e. Direct Discourse without any verbum dicendi), and of Free Indirect Discourses as well as their higher ratio of ‘DD with que’ that are strongly introduced (i.e. ‘verbum dicendi + que + DD’ (7) or ‘ID + Direct Discourse with inquit formula’ (8)). In other words, prose texts, whether romances or chronicles, must strongly identify who is speaking in the text in order to differentiate the sources of S&TP within the narration as opposed to the source of the narrative, presented as unique and truthful, be it a book in the case of prose romances or an individual in the case of chronicles (see infra). Contrary to verse romances, prose romances are based on one source, presenting a single vision of reality, with the impossibility of slipping out of the control of the powerful impersonal narrative voice and giving way to different points of view (Cerquiglini 1978, 1981; Marnette 1998: 185–90; and see infra). In conclusion, through their specific forms and the co-texts they are most likely to appear in, medieval reported discourses, even the most unconventional ones, are each occupying a determined position on the continuum going between the discourse of the narrative subject and that of the Other, i.e. in most of my examples, between the discourse of the narrator and that of his/her characters. These formal and functional characteristics can in turn be assembled to elaborate specific strategies used in the development of various literary genres in the Middle Ages, as will be shown in the next section.

Medieval literature 

. Elaboration of functions Depending on the contexts of its appearance, each type of S&TP can carry out a specific range of functions, determining aspects as diverse as the relationship between the narrator and the audience, the apparent ‘control’ of the narrator over his/her characters, the expression of points of view in the narrative, the shaping of notions such as ‘reality’ or ‘history’, etc. The correlation between distinct categories of S&TP and their frequencies creates strategies which are the basis for distinct literary genres and are subject to change in time since these genres are continually evolving and constantly defining themselves against other genres (Jauss 1970, 1982). The next three sections illustrate the role of S&TP in the elaboration of four different medieval genres: chansons de geste, verse and prose romances and chronicles. . Speech strategies and the staging of orality in ‘chansons de geste’ The origins of chansons de geste are hotly debated but it seems likely that these sung narrative poems were originally composed, transmitted and performed orally. The oldest chanson de geste still available to us is the Chanson de Roland (late 11th-c.) and most other texts were composed in the 12th and early 13th centuries.18 Of course, we cannot be sure that the actual texts that have come down to us in manuscripts were actually composed orally but they were obviously supposed to be performed (sung) in front of an audience. The performer’s voice (the jongleur) is very present in these texts and often addresses the listeners while telling them about the high deeds (and occasional love stories) of their epic heroes. The chansons de geste are widely seen as using mainly Direct Discourses, a fact that tends to be connected to their quality of ‘oral performances’ and thus to their direct link with the spoken language where Direct Discourse is indeed the principal type of S&TP in pure narrative sequences. However, an in-depth analysis reveals a more complex picture: if epic narrators (jongleurs) use Direct Discourses to report their characters’ speeches, these characters mostly use (Free) Indirect Discourses to report their own words or the speeches of other characters. These highly organised S&TP strategies can be shown to be determined by prosody, pragmatics and narratology. In chansons de geste, the narrator endeavours to report the characters’ discourses in their own words, in order to offer as much direct access as possible to the listeners-readers. In order to do so, he uses a majority of Direct Discourses since, as we saw in the previous chapter on spoken French, Direct Discourse is a hearer-based strategy that places the listener-reader on an equal footing with

 Part II, Chapter 2

the narrator, in the position of a witness who must evaluate the represented speech event (Collins 2001: 68).19 Thus, the characters’ speeches, reported in Direct Discourse, and their actions, recounted in a complex mix of present tenses (foregrounding) and past tenses (backgrounding) are told as if they were happening in front of the audience, as the jongleur’s performance goes along. (17) Raoul de Cambrai, 6279–83 Li rois parole con ja porrés oïr: ‘Venés avant, H[erchambaus] de Pontis; prenés la dame, que je la vos ostri.’ Et sil respont: ‘Sire, vostre mercit.’ Passa avant, par la main la saisit: Il fist que fox quant il s’en entremist. [The king speaks as you will now hear: ‘Step forward, Erchambaut of Ponthieu; take the lady for I give her to you.’ And he replies: ‘I thank you sir.’ He stepped forward and took her by the hand – fool that he was to undertake it.]

There is no doubt that the great use of Direct Discourse, and occasionally of ‘DD with que’ in chansons de geste is firmly linked to the staged orality of this type of texts, in the same line as the many narratorial addresses to the listeners-readers and the commentaries about the future fate of the characters (prolepses, wishes, questions, imprecations) and about the inherent good or evil of certain characters. On the contrary, discourses reported by characters are usually Indirect Discourses and Free Indirect Discourses rather than Direct Discourse.20 (18) Le Pélerinage de Charlemagne, 764–70 E dist Hugue li Forz: ‘Veez ici Bernard Hugue = Character quoted by Narrator DD Filz le cunte Aimeri, ki de ço se vantat Que icele grant ewe qui si brut a cel val Bernard = Character quoted by Hugue ID Que la fereit eisir tute de sun canal, Entrer en la citet, curre de tutes parz, Mei maïsmes munter en mun plus halt palais, Que n’en purrai descendre tresqu’il cumanderat.’ [And Hugo the Strong said: ‘Here is Bernard, Count Aimeri’s son, who boasted that he could make this great river, which is rushing down that valley, entirely leave its bed, flood the city and spread all over, that I

Medieval literature

myself would climb up to the top of my highest palace so that I will not be able to come down until being ordered by him.’]

First, because the use of Indirect Discourse and Free Indirect Discourse allows for a distinction between two levels of embedding, it clearly differentiates between the discourse reported by the narrator (Direct Discourse) and that of the characters (Indirect Discourse and Free Indirect Discourse). Note that this enables the jongleur to change his tone of voice when quoting different characters in Direct Discourse but not when a character quotes another character (see Figure 16).

Figure 16. Embedded S&TP in Chansons de Geste

Second, the use of Indirect Discourse signals that, contrary to Direct Discourse, the emphasis is not on the form of the reported discourse (mimicking, exact vocabulary, etc.) but rather on its content. In the case of verbum dicendi in the first person indicative present, it is the illocutionary force of the discourse that is insisted upon through the creation of a performative expression (I order, I swear, etc.):21 (19) La Chanson de Roland, 2669–73 Puis apelat dous de ses chevalers, L’un Clarifan e l’altre Clarïen: ‘Vos estes filz al rei Maltraïen, Ki messages soleit faire volenters.



 Part II, Chapter 2

Jo vos CUMANT qu’en Sarraguce algez. [. . . ]’ [Then he called two of his knights. One is Clarifan and the other Clarien: ‘You are sons of king Maltraien, who willingly used to deliver messages. I COMMAND you to go to Saragossa. [. . . ]’] (20) Tristan de Nanteuil, 1934, 1949–51 ‘Sire, dist Aiglantine, nen soiés plus parlans; [. . .] Et se vous m’espousés, sur sains vous SUIS JURANS, Ja bien ne vous feray, ne ne seray couchans Avec vous nu a nu; [. . . ]’ [‘Sir, said Aiglantine, do not speak about this any longer; [. . . ] And if you marry me, I SWEAR by the Saints, I will never do you any good, nor will I sleep with you naked; [. . . ]’]

Incidentally, this is where we find a majority of the ‘ID without que’ occurrences used in chansons de geste and it is easy to see why the que is not needed in (20) since there is no change of speaker (see supra and Marnette 1999a). It is also interesting to note the fact that most verba dicendi have a high level of specialisation (to swear, to order, to pray, to promise, etc.). When a more neutral verb such as dire (‘to say’) is used, it is with a specific qualification that characterises the speech act, e.g. je dis en fine verité que (‘I say in truth that. . .’, Huon 10300). It can also appear with a negation or with a future tense, so that the action of saying is deferred (negated in the present or referring to the future). Moreover speech acts are not only expressed with performative expressions in the first person but also with commands in the second person. This type of expression can be used either when asking a question to another character (21) or telling a messenger what to say (22) (see infra). Here again, what is at stake is not the form of the reported discourse but rather its content (what is to be said) as well as the illocutionary force of the speech act expressed by a verb in the imperative present (di! or dites! ‘say!’) or in the indicative future (diras or direz ‘you will say’).22 (21) Orange ms CE 151–4 E dist Guillelmes: ‘Diex en soit aouré! Mais or me di, garde n’i ait celé, Comment tu fus en baptesme nommé Et de quel terre et de quel parenté.’ [And Guillaume says: ‘May the Lord be praised! But now, tell me, do not hide anything, how you were named in baptism and which country and which family [you come from]’.]

Medieval literature 

(22) Orange ms AB 1421–4 ‘Niés Guïelin, dist Guillelmes li frans, Tu enterras en la bove leanz, Desi a Nymes ne t’iras arestant, Si me diras le palazin Bertran Qu’il me secore tost e isnelement.’ [‘Nephew Gui, says Guillaume the brave, you will enter in this tunnel. You will not stop until Nyme. You will tell Bertrand the paladin to rescue me soon and fast.’]

Third, in cases where a character reports the discourse of another character in a message to be sent or being delivered, the choice of Indirect Discourse (or Free Indirect Discourse) might have a double function.23 On the one hand, it allows the quoting character to exhibit his/her role of messenger, to insist on the content of the message itself24 and not on the tone of the original speaker, and to avoid saying je in place of the original speaker, which is especially important when one quotes the words of a King or another important personality: (23) La Chanson de Roland: Ganelon delivers Charlemagne’s message to Marsile, with a few personal modifications (it is doubtful that Charlemagne ever thought of leaving Marsile half of Spain). The message is repeated twice in the text (a technique called ‘similar laisses’). A. 428, 430–437 E dist al rei: ‘[. . . ] Iço vus mandet Carlemagnes li ber

B. 469–483 Si li ad dit: ‘[. . . ] Quar ço vos mandet Carles, ki France tient, que recevez seinte chrestientet; Que recevez la lei de chrestïens; Demi Espaigne vos voelt en fiu duner Demi Espaigne vus durat il en fiet. L’altre meitet avrat Rollant, sis niés: Mult orguillos parçuner i avrez! Se cest’ acorde ne vulez otrier, Si ceste acorde ne volez otrier, En Sarraguce vus vendrat aseger; Pris e lïez serez par poësted; Par poëstet serez pris e lïez, Al siege ad Ais en serez amenet Menet serez dreit a Ais le siet. Vus n’i avrez ne palefreid ne destrer, Ne mul ne mule que puissez chevalcher; Getet serez sur un malvais sumer.

 Part II, Chapter 2

Par jugement serez iloec finet; La murrez vus a hunte e a viltet

Par jugement iloec perdrez le chef.

Nostre emperere vus enveiet cest bref.’ [A. And he said to the king: ‘[. . . ] Here is what noble Charlemagne tells you: that you become a convert to holy Christianity; He wants to give you half of Spain as a fief. If you do not submit to this pact, you will be seized and bound by force; you will be brought to the Capital, in Aix; there, by trial, you will come to your end; there you will die shamefully and in vile fashion.’ B. And he said to him: ‘[. . . ]. For here is what Charles, who rules France, tells you: that you become a convert to that Christian faith; he will give you half of Spain as a fief. His nephew Roland will have the other half : what an arrogant man you will have for a partner! If you do not submit to this pact, he will come to besiege you in Saragossa, you will be seized and bound by force, you will be led directly to the capital Aix. You will have neither a palfrey nor a warhorse, neither a mule nor a jenny as a mount; you will be thrown on a lowly packhorse. There by trial you will loose your head. Our emperor sends you this letter.’]

On the other hand, it enables the narrator to reveal the manipulation of the message by the messenger within his own words, something that is extremely apparent when the messenger lies about a supposed message, as Ganelon does in the above example.25 Note that Free Indirect Discourse often appears in these cases because it gives even more subtlety to the ‘pretence’ by unostensibly passing from Indirect Discourse to Free Indirect Discourse (e.g. Demi Espaigne vos voelt en fiu duner in (21A)). Finally a character sometimes quotes another character or him/herself when telling a story in the past. This tool is frequently used in Huon as a way to summarise past events and to remind the audience of what happened before.26 Of course Free Indirect Discourse may also appear in that context and this has a very ‘modern’ appearance since the stories are told entirely in the past tenses (see italics in the examples below). (24) Huon, 1155–1165 [Huon explains to Charlemagne how he and his brother were attacked by a stranger on their way to his court. He is actually reporting almost word for word a dialogue that occurred from verse 852 to 863.] Moult hautement li alai escriant Por coi ot mort mon frere le vaillant; Et il me dist de moi feroit autant Com de mon frere qui est navrés el flanc.27

Medieval literature 

Demandai li dont il ert, de quel gent; Et il me dist d’Alemaigne le grant. Dist que mon pere quant il estoit vivant, Li ot tolu trois castiax moult vaillant, Ainc n’en ot droit en trestot son vivant, Et por tel cose il m’ala maneçant28 Qu’il m’ociroit, ja n’aroie garant. Quant je l’oï, se l’alai moult doutant, [. . . ] [With a loud scream, I asked him why he had killed my valiant brother; and he told me he would do the same to me, as he did to my brother who is27 wounded to the side. I asked him where he was from and from which people; He said from Germany the great. He said that my father when he was alive had stolen three good castles from him. Never was he able to take his revenge during his life. And for that very thing, he threatened28 to kill me; in no way would I be safe. When I heard him, I began to fear him greatly, [...]] (25) La Chanson de Roland, 2864–7 [Charlemagne recalls his nephew’s words while looking for his dead body] A Eis esteie a une feste anoel, si se vanterent mi vaillant chevaler de granz batailles, de forz esturs pleners. D’une raison oï Rollant PARLER: Ja ne murreit en estrange regnet Ne trespassast ses humes e ses pers; vers lur païs avreit sun chef turnet; cunquerrantment si finereit li bers.’ [I was at Aix, at a high feast, my brave knights boasted about great battles, big strong assaults. I heard Roland speak about one thing. Never would he die in a foreign kingdom unless he were ahead of his men and his peers; he would have his face turned towards that land; as a conqueror so would the baron end.’]

Once again, in examples (24), (25) above, the use of (Free) Indirect Discourse achieves an effect of distance, presenting past moments that are both unretrievable and un-relivable. This is especially poignant since our examples allude to events that are at the core of the two stories: Huon’s unwitting murder of Charlemagne’s son in (24) and Roland’s brave death in (25). It also prevents the characters from saying je in the place of the dead men they are quoting. Finally, in the case of Huon, this strategy is especially fitting to summarise an embedded dialogue with the least amount of confusion.

 Part II, Chapter 2

This brief overview shows the inherent complexity of S&TP functions in chansons de geste: there are very different and clearly defined strategies for the discourses reported by the narrator on the one hand and these reported by the characters on the other hand. These strategies are motivated by several intricate factors that are both technical (e.g. clear distinction between two levels of embedding) and linked to discourse pragmatics.29 The texts play skilfully with the possibilities offered by each type of S&TP, depending on contextual needs. The narrator draws on the property of authenticity conferred by Direct Discourse to present the characters’ discourses in an unmediated way to the listeners-readers. On the contrary the ambiguous and deferred quality of Indirect Discourse and Free Indirect Discourse is especially fitting for the transit of a message between a sender, a messenger and an addressee or to distance a speech event in the past. Finally, it is because Indirect Discourse can insist on the illocutionary force of an utterance that characters use it to report their own discourses in a performative way or to give orders to other characters. I have alluded to the similarities existing between S&TP in chansons de geste and those found in Modern Spoken French. Indeed the presence of ‘mixed reported discourses’ such as ‘DD with que’ and especially ‘ID without que’, the use of present and future tenses in both Indirect Discourse and Free Indirect Discourse, as well as the high frequency of Direct Discourse and the use of Indirect Discourse in situations of double embedding are common to both Modern Spoken French and the chansons de geste. So is the use of tenses in the narration (present for foregrounding and past for backgrounding) as well as addresses to the audience. This is why I have used the term ‘staged orality’ in connection with this medieval literary genre (see supra). The adjective ‘staged’ is of utmost importance since although chansons de geste were undoubtedly originally orally composed, transmitted and performed, we have no proof that this was the case with the specific texts found in the manuscripts preserved to this day. Indeed, later chansons de geste increased the amount of jongleurs’s comments and references to listeners-readers as if to exhibit their ‘orality’ while also sometimes displaying (betraying?) their status as written texts: (26) Le Chevalier au Cygne, 4058–61 La gentius damoisele fu de molt grans bontés; Plus a sens et proece que n’aport ses aés. Puis vint de li grans biens ensi con vos orés, SE JOU LE ROMANC LIS et vos bien l’escoutés. [The noble damsel was very kind; she has more discernment and prowess

Medieval literature 

than her age suggests. Later many great things happened to her, as you will hear, IF I READ THE ROMANCE and you carefully listen to it.]

Moreover, and most importantly for our topic, it seems that some ‘oral features’ were less persistent in later texts than commentaries and addresses. Such is the case with S&TP since the proportion of Indirect Discourses used by the narrator dramatically increases in Le Chevalier au Cygne (13th-c.) and Tristan de Nanteuil (14th-c.) from less than 9% to 18% and 22% respectively. This change might have been influenced by the use of Indirect Discourse in literary genres such as romances and vernacular chronicles, which developed after the earliest chansons de geste and competed with them for the medieval audience.30 It has to be noted however that the use of ‘mixed discourses’ and the mixing of present and future tenses in Indirect Discourse and Free Indirect Discourse do not decrease in these two texts. Moreover, the rate of Indirect Discourses is not so high in Raoul de Cambrai (6%) and Huon de Bordeau (6%), two texts that some philologists date from the same period as the Cygne (i.e. late 12th-c. or early 13th-c.).31 In conclusion, the presence of Direct Discourse and other types of S&TP linked to the spoken language does not actually mean that the chansons de geste were composed orally (we are certain that some of them were not) but is used to exhibit orality and build it as a constitutive characteristic of this medieval literary genre. . Speech and the rhetoric of truth in ‘chansons de geste’, chronicles and prose romances32 Although chansons de geste and chronicles can both be considered as medieval historiography, these two genres use distinct S&TP strategies that ultimately refer to a different conceptualisation of what (historical) truth is. While history is seen as re-lived, re-presented in chansons de geste, it is put at a distance in the chronicles. In chansons de geste, the reported discourses ‘look true’ because the jongleur lets his listeners/ readers hear them directly as if they were witnessing them. On the contrary, since the chronicler cannot pretend that he remembers all the discourses he heard in their exact terms, he reports them in an indirect mode and the ‘truth’ of his story is based on him ‘sincerely’ admitting that his account of what he witnessed with his own eyes and ears will necessarily be incomplete.33 The chroniclers purport to be telling true events because these are grounded in the past and guaranteed by their personal experiences as direct or indirect witnesses. Prose romances tend to present themselves as based on historical and, in the case of the Grail stories, religious truth. However this

 Part II, Chapter 2

pretence easily vanishes once one compares their use of S&TP with that of the chronicles. Indeed, while chronicles’ use of S&TP is usually both moderate and aimed at distancing words spoken in the past, prose romances rely heavily on S&TP, giving direct access on the thoughts and the words of the characters and thus bringing some ‘realism’ to their fictional stories. This section deals with three different literary genres, each of them offering their own rhetoric of truth clearly linked to particular S&TP strategies. As we have seen in the previous section, Direct Discourse is largely predominant in the narrative discourse of the chansons de geste (more than 90% of the overall number of reported discourse in most chansons de geste, 73% for Cygne and 81% for Nanteuil). This goes hand in hand with the use of other narratological tools such as addresses to the listeners-readers, comments on the story and on the activity of narration as well as the telling of events in the performance mode (mixing of present tenses for the foregrounding of events) (17). The historical events told in the chansons de geste are re-lived by the community formed by jongleurs and their audiences, united behind the battles and the destiny of ‘our emperor Charles’ ‘our Frenchmen’ and ‘our barons’.34 The fact that these events are actually mostly fictive is irrelevant here because what makes them historical and ‘true’ is that they are presented as such by the story and experienced as such by the audience.35 It is obvious that Direct Discourse participates in that feeling of authenticity, in the same way as any historical re-enactment would. The chronicles work in a very different way, clearly illustrated in their use of S&TP.36 Not only do they generally employ fewer reported discourses than the other texts of my corpus, they also largely prefer Indirect Discourse to Direct Discourse. The number of Direct Discourses accounts for less than 40% of the overall number of reported discourses in the chronicles (except Froissart 2, see infra). Another way to look at it is to say that chronicles use at least 1.5 Indirect Discourse for every Direct Discourse. It is the exact reverse from chansons de geste: one finds at least 3.5 Direct Discourses for every Indirect Discourse in the Cygne and Nanteuil, and more than 12 Direct Discourses per one Indirect Discourse in all the other chansons.37 The chronicles’ predilection for Indirect Discourse can be explained in several ways. Most chronicles of my corpus were composed (often dictated) by authors who had directly witnessed a good part of the events narrated in their stories. Sometimes, chroniclers also told events that they had learnt from intermediary sources. The truth of their stories is thus guaranteed by their own selves, referred to in the third person in earlier chronicles (Clari, Villehardouin) and in the first person in subsequent chronicles. These narrators-authors aim at presenting themselves as credible

Medieval literature 

witnesses both in terms of their competence (‘I was there’, ‘I heard this said by trustworthy people’) but also in terms of their abilities to recognise the ‘finiteness’ of their own memory. So they prefer to use Indirect Discourse instead of repeating most discourses in Direct Discourse and giving the impression that they could really remember everything that was said and how it was said, or that they could reconstruct some things they did not hear themselves. (27) Clari, §120, lines 4–10. [...] chis qui i fu et qui le vit et qui l’oï le tesmongne, Robers de Clari, li chevaliers, et a fait metre en escrit le verité, si comme ele fu conquise; et ja soit chou que il ne l’ait si belement contee le conqueste, comme maint boin diteeur l’eussent contee, si en a il toutes eures le droite verité contee, et assés de vérités en a teutes qu’il ne peut mie toutes ramembrer. [Robert de Clari, the knight, who was there and saw it and heard it, bears witness to it and he has put in writing the truth, how [Constantinople] was conquered; and although he has not narrated the conquest as nicely as many good poets might have, he has always told the straight truth, and he has said nothing about a few truths because he cannot remember all of them.] (28) Villehardouin, §129, lines 3–5. La ot maint conseil pris et doné. Totes les paroles qui la furent dites ne vos contera mie li livres; [. . .] [Many bits of advice were taken and given there. All the words that were said there, the book will not tell; [. . .]] (29) Joinville, §19, lines 1–5 En nom de Dieu le tout puissant, je, Jehan sire de Joyngville, seneschal de Champaigne, faiz escrire la vie nostre saint [roy] Looÿs, ce que je vis et oÿ par l’espace de sis anz que je fu en sa compaignie ou pelerinage d’outremer, et puis que nous revenimes. [In the name of Almighty God, I, Lord of Joinville, am having the life of our saint king Louis written down, what I saw and heard during the six years I spent in his company in the pilgrimage across the sea and after we came back.] (30) Commynes, Prologue of First Book, page 1 Monsieur l’arcevesque de Vienne, pour satisfaire à la requeste qu’il vous a pleu me faire de vous escrire et mettre par memoire ce que j’ay sceu et congneu des faictz du roy Loys unziesme, à qui Dieu face pardon, nostre maistre et bienfaicteur, et prince digne de très excellente memoire, je l’ay faict le plus près de la verité que j’ay peu et sceu avoir souvenance. Du

 Part II, Chapter 2

temps de sa jeunesse ne scauroye parler, sinon par ceque je luy en ay ouy parler et dire; [. . .] [Lord archbishop of Vienna, in order to satisfy your request (which it pleased you to make) that I write for you and memorialise what I have known of the deeds of Louis the eleventh, whom God might forgive, our master and benefactor, and very worthy prince, of good memory, I have done it as closely to the truth as I could and was able to remember. About the time of his youth, I could not speak, except from what I heard him say and talk about; [. . .]] (31) Monstrelet, lines 2006–10 Et là, de tous costés se commencèrent de très grandes escarmuches, auxquelles se porta très vaillamment, comme il me fut rapporté, messire Gauwain Quiéret, Hue de Longueval, et pluiseurs aultres, avec les chiefz dessus nommés. [And there, from everywhere began skirmishes, where, I was told, Lord Gauwain Quiéret and Hue de Longueval behaved very bravely, as well as many others together with the above mentioned leaders]

Furthermore the deferred quality of Indirect Discourse allows chroniclers to ground the events firmly in the past, as any other events narrated in their story where there is very little mixing of present and past tenses, even for the oldest chronicles. The narrators of the chronicles are not re-living the past as they are telling it, nor do they let the listeners-readers experience the ‘true’ voices of history. They do not even give them access to their own thoughts at the time of the events (except very rarely for Joinville and Commynes). The distanced objectivity of their historical narration is however influenced by the moral judgements they are not afraid to add here and there, as well of course as the very choice of events told. As can be seen in examples (32) taken from a 13th-c. chronicle, even a seemingly most objective third-person text may express the chronicler’s opinion. 14th and 15th-c. chronicles are sometimes more explicit since, rather than using exclamative expressions only, they use Indirect Discourses in reflexive formulas that put the author’s opinions on stage via the narrator’s voice. (32) Clari, §112, lines 31–35 [death of the emperor, of Louis count of Flanders and army is fleeing] Ensi faitement se venja Damedieus d’aus pour leur orguel et pour le male foi qu’il avoient portee a le povre gent de l’ost, et les oribles pekiés qu’il avoient fais en le chité, aprés chou qu’i l’eurent prise. [So did God take his revenge on them because of their arrogance and for

Medieval literature 

the bad faith they had shown to the poor people of the army, and the awful sins they had perpetrated in the city, after they had overtaken it.] (33) Froissart 2, page 534, line 7 Le comte Gaston de Foix, dont je parle, en ce temps que je fus devers lui, avoit environ cinquante-neuf ans d’âge. Et vous dis que j’ai en mon temps vu moult de chevaliers, rois, princes et autres; mais je n’en vis oncques nul qui fût de si beaux membres, de sui belle forme ni de si belle taille et viaire, bel, sanguin et riant, . . . [The count Gaston of Foix, whom I am speaking about, was around fifty nine years old when I met him. And I am telling you that in my time I have seen many knights, kings, princes and others, but I never saw one who had such beautiful limbs, of such fine shape, of such a good looking waist, face, handsome, full of life and joyful, . . . ] (34) Commynes, lines 1831–42 Ledict de Contay hayait ledict Guillaume Bische; toutesfois il disoit ce que plusieurs autres disoyent comme luy; et croy que sa suspicion ne l’en faisoit parler, mais seulement la necessité de la matière. [The aforementioned de Contay hated the aforementioned Guillaume Bische; however he was saying what many others said like him, and I believe that his mistrust did not cause him to speak, but rather the urgency of the matter.]

In expressions such as Je vous dis que (‘I am telling you that X’) and je crois que ‘I believe that’, the pronoun je refers both to the narrator qua narrator (who tells the story) and to the narrator as a person of the world that holds a specific discourse and expresses certain opinions (see Part I, Chapter 2, Section 4). These ‘reflexive’ reported discourses entail a certain amount of ‘dramatization’ of the narrator’s speech and thoughts, enabling him to exhibit his own discourse vis à vis that of the Other.38 An apparent exception to the preference for Indirect Discourse in the chronicles is to be found in Froissart’s Voyage de Bearn (Froissart 2 in my corpus), which uses a very high amount of Direct Discourses (89% of the overall number of reported discourses and more than 8 Direct Discourses per one Indirect Discourse). In that particular excerpt of Book III of his chronicle, Froissart narrates his trip to the court of Gaston Phoebus and his different encounters with informants that told him stories relating to the countryside and to the count Phoebus himself. He reports all these stories in Direct Discourse, i.e. supposedly in the words of his informants and even explains how he jotted

 Part II, Chapter 2

all these anecdotes down as soon as he arrived at his hostel at the end of a day’s travelling. (35) Froissart 2, Chapter XII, lines 1–7 Des paroles que messire Espaing de Lyon me contoit étois-je tout réjoui, car elles me venoient grandement à plaisance, et toutes trop bien les retenois, et sitôt que aux hostels, sur le chemin que nous fesismes ensemble, descendu étois, je les escripvois, fût de soir ou de matin, pour en avoir mieux la mémoire au temps à venir; car il n’est si juste retentive que c’est d’écriture. [The words that Messire Espaing de Lyon was telling me, would fill me with joy because they were very pleasing to me. And I would memorise all of them very well. And as soon as I would arrive at our hostel, on the journey we were taking together, I would write them down whether at night or in the morning, in order to remember them for the times to come, because there is no better memory than in writing.]

This indicates how a chronicler like Froissart is aware of the inherent difficulty to quote people in their own words. In fact, he is not so much letting us participate to specific past historical events as to the actual composition of his opus: He is using the Direct Discourse to chronicle . . . the making of his chronicle (Diller 1998: 57). Prose romances constitute the third medieval genre that could be described as historiographical. However, this is not because they speak of events that really happened but because they present their stories as based on a unique source both historically and even religiously true. As Zink (1995: 71) notes, the fact that “the first prose romances in French were Grail romances [. . .] was probably not or not only due to chance”. Indeed these romances use a linguistic medium that had long been associated with the notion of religious and historical truth in Latin and they tell a story that is clearly paralleled to the Bible: revealing the veritable events that happened after Jesus’ death and the ensuing creation of the fellowship of the Grail. They are all told in a specific way, with the disappearance of references to the je-narrator to the benefit of an impersonal narrative voice performatively referring to itself as le conte or l’histoire.39 (36) Lancelot du Lac, page 233, line 25 Mais or se taist un petit LI CONTES de lui et de sa compaignie, et parole del roi Artu et de monseignor Gauvain. [Now though THE STORY falls silent about him and his company for a while and speaks of King Arthur and Sir Gawain.]

Medieval literature 

This expression refers both to the source which the story is told from, and to the story as it is unfolding. There are several possible fictions for the unique origin of the narrative.40 In the Lancelot Cycle, King Arthur’s clerks supposedly put into writing the knight’s accounts of their quests and adventures, a story subsequently transposed from Latin to French by Gautier Map. In the case of the Histoire du Saint Graal, the source of the story is Christ himself, giving a book to the narrator that he must transcribe. In the Merlin, the scribe Blaise writes down the prophecies of Merlin, himself inspired by God. Later prose romances while departing from the Grail thematic and in certain cases from the monological impersonal voice, still present themselves as based on specific historical sources that are translated or transposed by the je-narrator.41 (37) Perceforest, Prologue of the 4th Book, page 1 Ainsi que dit est ou second et ou tiers voulume des Anciennes CRONICQUES de la Grant Bretaigne qui sont de convenable grandeur, et aussi pour ce que l’istoire est encoires de longue narration, JE encommenceray le quart voulume de ceste noble matière [...]. [As it is said in the second and third volumes of the Ancient CHRONICLES of Great Britain, which are sizeable, and also because the story is yet long to narrate, I will begin the fourth volume of this noble topic [. . .]] (38) Le Roman de Guillaume, page 51, lines 16–20 Racomptent aulcuns HYSTORIENS, que Turpins, l’arcevesque de Rains mouru en Ramcevaulx avesques Rolant, Olivier et la chevalerie de France et d’Almeigne, les aultres dient que nom et que il mouru aprés Charlemeigne, et JE, qui cestui livre ay TRANSLATÉ l’ay ainssy leu et veu. [Some HISTORIANS say that Turpin, the Archbishop of Reims, died in Rencesvals with Roland, Olivier and the knighthood of France and Germany, other say that he did not and that he died after Charlemagne. And I, who have TRANSPOSED this book [in prose], I have read it and seen it so.] (39) Le Roman du Comte d’Artois, Prologue, page 1 Cy commenche le livre du tres chevalereux conte d’Artois et de sa femme, fille du conte de Boulongne. [...] Et comme il soit verité que moult de chosez soient advenues ou tempz passé quy ne sont paz descriptes au long ne misez en commun compte, tant soient ellez DIGNEZ DE MEMOIRE et recommendacion, [. . .], me suis arresté a ung livret qui fait mencion dez haultez entreprisez, amours et beaulx fais d’armez d’un conte d’Artois, dont la narracion se fera cy apprez, au moins mal que je porray, soubz la correction de ceulx quy mieulx l’acheveroient que commenchier

 Part II, Chapter 2

je ne le sçavroye; suppliant que mez faultez y soyent excuseez et corrigiez doulcement, car en ceste petite oeuvre JE ne doy estre reputté que L’ESCRIPVAIN QUI ESCRIPT ce qu’il a trouvé ez aultrez volumez dont la substance s’ensieult. [Here begins the book of the very valiant count of Artois and of his wife, daughter of the Count of Burgundy [. . .]. And since it is true that many things happened in the past, which are not described nor put into narratives, though they might be WORTHY OF MEMORY and full of good bits of advice [. . .], I have turned my attention to a book that mentions the high deeds, romantic adventures and beautiful battles of a count of Artois. The narration will begin hereafter, as well as I am able to recount it, open to the correction of these that might achieve it better than I could even begin it. I pray that my mistakes might be forgiven and kindly rectified, because in this little work I MUST only be seen as the writer who WRITES what he has found in another volume, which is as follows: [. . .]]

This je-narrator is thus neither a creator nor the guarantor of the story’s truth but he is a link on the chain of transmission going from the source of the story to the finished product, the narrative. Interestingly, although prose romances go to great length to present themselves as ‘chronicles’ (ex: Perceforest (34)), they easily betray that pretence by their use of reported discourse. Indeed, far from preferring the Indirect Discourse as ‘real’ chronicles do, they tend to employ Direct Discourse, thus giving the story ‘psychological realism’ if not ‘historical truth’. The number of Direct Discourses in the prose romances is always higher than 64% of the overall number of reported discourses (except for Guillaume 50% and Artois 37%). They use at least 1.8 Direct Discourse per one Indirect Discourse (except for Guillaume 1/1 and Artois 0.6/1). A text like Le Roman du Comte d’Artois presents interesting mixes, beginning like a chronicle with a very dry account of the hero’s military exploits, with more Indirect Discourses than Direct Discourses (68% Indirect Discourses versus 28% Direct Discourses) and then develops into a love story with more Direct Discourses than Indirect Discourses (51% Direct Discourses versus 48% Indirect Discourses). These Direct Discourses are lovers’ monologic complaints or witty dialogues, full of mutual misunderstandings that form the basis of the plot. The strategies at work in this text illustrates the inherent ability of medieval genres to draw on specific tools such as S&TP to construct themselves both in parallel to and in opposition to other genres.

Medieval literature 

. Thought presentation and the expression of point of view in romances’42 While chansons de geste take their origin in popular oral culture and probably appeared well before they were actually put down in writing (i.e. before the 11th-c.), the birth of verse romances is less old and better documented. The genre emerged in the 12th-c. and took its name from the fact that Latin and Greek ancient narratives were transposed into the vernacular Romance language (first half of 12th-c.). The word ‘transposition’ is probably better than translation since the texts retained the original plot (e.g. the Trojan war, the story of Aeneas, etc.) but added a medieval sociological background and gave much more importance to the development of love stories between characters. Later on, romances started using material from Celtic legends, referring to characters such as Tristan and Isolde or King Arthur and the knights of the Round Table (second half of 12th). At a further stage, courtly romances were set in a time and background closer to the contemporary world of their authors and listeners-readers, which is why they are sometimes misleadingly called ‘realistic’ (first half of 12th).43 Contrary to chansons de geste, verse romances were not sung but recited. Although some were undoubtedly recited from memory, others might have been read aloud from a book (some chansons de geste probably were read as well and prose romances most definitely were). Verse romances thus kept strong links with orality, notably the switching between present tenses for foregrounding of events and past tenses for backgrounding as well as the vivid presence of the narrative voice. However, romances mentioned their author’s names more often than chansons de geste did.44 The first-person narrator was also more prominent, with less importance given to the listenersreaders.45 What was thus underlined was the composition and recitation of the text by the first-person narrator rather than the perception of the events from the listeners-readers perspective. The audience was required to believe the narrator and to accept his/her choices of narrated events (i.e. shortcuts or lengthy descriptions of specific events rather than others). In short, the narrator did not describe himself/herself only as a good teller of pre-existing stories (as in chansons de geste) but rather as an excellent composer and the master of his/her tale (see first person in bold in the following example). (40) Ipomedon, 7175–202 (the narrator explains why he is undertaking a detour)

 Part II, Chapter 2

Ore entendez, seignurs, mut ben; Now listen well, my lords; HUE dit ke il n’i ment de ren, Hue says that he lies about nothing, Fors aukune feiz, neent mut, Except for a few times, although not many, Nuls ne se pot garder par tut, Nobody can entirely refrain from it, En mendre afere mut suvent In lesser things very often Un ben renablë hom mesprent. A good reasonable man makes mistakes. El mund nen ad un sul si sage There is no one in the world who is so wise, Ki tuz jurs seit en un curage, That he could always be in one disposition, Kar cist secles l’ad ore en sei, Because this world is now that way, Nel metez mie tut sur mei! Do not blame me for it all! Sul ne sai pas de mentir l’art, I am not the only one who knows the art of lying, Walter Map reset ben sa part; Walter Map also knows his part well; Nepurquant, a la meie entente, However, in my understanding, Ne quit pas ke nul de vus mente. I don’t believe that any of you is lying.46 Seignurs ke de rime entendez, Lords, who understand about rimes, Si jo mesprenc, ne me blasmez, If I make mistakes, don’t blame me, A escïent pas nel ferai. I won’t do it knowingly. Al plus brefment ke jo purrai As briefly as I will be able to, Vus irrai ultre od resun bele, I will continue [this narrative] with a nice matter Kar ren ne valt lunge favele, Since nothing is worth a long discourse, Ne favele ne lung sermun, Nor a tale, nor a long speech, Kar ki ist hors de sa resun, Because whenever one strays from one’s matter, Jol sai mut ben, si savez vus, I know it well, so do you, Le livre en est meins delitus. It makes the book less enjoyable. Pur ço n’i voil cunter ne dire Because of that, I do not want to relate or say Fors tut dreit avant la matire; Anything but what goes right into the matter; Se vus vers mei ben escutez If you listen to me well, De plus sages en partirez. You will leave from here wiser. Ipomedon ne se est targés, Ipomedon did not delay, Vers sun païs est aprochez; He went towards his country;

Medieval literature 

Prose romances appeared at the very beginning of the 13th-c. and it seems that the genre first consisted in the transposition from verse to prose of romances linked to the Grail. The Grail itself is a mysterious object that first surfaced in Chrétien de Troyes’ story of the knight Perceval (Le Conte du Graal). In that text, it is a precious cup where Christ’s blood was collected after his death and it appears to Perceval in a magic castle. Subsequently a trilogy of verse texts, L’estoire dou Graal, Merlin and Perceval endeavoured to tell of the origins of the Grail and of its relevance to the story of King Arthur. The trilogy, attributed to Robert de Boron, was very soon transposed into prose, possibly because of the link between prose and religious and historical truth.47 Indeed, as I have already noted, this step was not fortuitous since the Grail stories were permeated with a religious atmosphere that was not present in the original Chrétien’s romance and that was clearly reminiscent of the Bible. Later the focus was shifted from Perceval to Lancelot, a character that first appeared in another of Chrétien’s romances (Le Chevalier a la charette ‘The Knight of the Cart’). Lancelot was thus connected to the Grail Quest in a lengthy cycle of six prose romances usually called the Lancelot-Grail cycle (or the Vulgate, 2nd quarter of 13th-c.). Interestingly, the cycle is marked by an almost complete disappearance of the first-person narrator. It is as if the religious and historical truth could only rhetorically be expressed through an impersonal instance such as performative formulae le conte (‘the tale’) or l’histoire (‘the story’) that refer both to the source-story and to the story unfolding itself, as illustrated in example (33) above. Only in later prose romances do we have a return to the first person, which is also accompanied in the prose Tristan by a more critical attitude toward the ideology portrayed in earlier texts. The prose Tristan was composed shortly after the Lancelot-Grail Cycle, which it partly recycles. Another lengthy prose romance, Perceforest (14th-c.), purports to tell the story of King Arthur’s ancestors. Afterwards other prose texts were transposed from pre-existing verse romances (e.g. Jehan de Paris, 15th-c.) or chansons de geste (e.g. Roman de Guillaume, 15th-c.). Others used more ‘contemporary’ material: the Roman du Comte d’Artois (15th-c.) and the Roman de Jehan de Saintré (15th-c.). Verse romances and prose romances share common points. Both genres use more Indirect Discourses than chansons de geste but fewer than the chronicles.48 This might be explained by the omnipotence and omnipresence of the narrative voice, be it the first-person narrator or an impersonal narrative voice such as le conte. The characters’ words are thus transposed within the narrative discourse, in which case they are not represented as such to the listenersreaders. Moreover, a substantial number of these Indirect (and Free Indirect)

 Part II, Chapter 2

Discourses are reporting thoughts and not speech, which is also very different from chansons de geste. The link between Indirect Discourse and the reporting of thoughts was already illustrated in my analysis of spoken French, which underscored the fact that rather than presenting thoughts as pure ‘internal speech’, Indirect Discourse also often expresses non verbal attitudes (Part II, Chapter 1, Section 2.3). Indeed chansons de geste do not often express character’s thoughts since they are mainly about great deeds and actions (including great words) rather than psychological development. The same can be said about chronicles. As I have shown above, chronicles use Indirect Discourses for the sake of authenticity since they can not pretend to remember every specific word that was uttered and they can only report what the witness has seen or heard, not what people thought at the time of the events. In any case, thoughts are more often presented in both types of romances than in any other genre. What is at stake is the personal development of the main characters, notably through the emergence and evolution of their love. Although this is especially noticeable in the use of (Free) Indirect Discourse, it is also true for the use of Direct Discourse. It is however slightly difficult to clearly distinguish between internal speech and external speech in medieval texts since most texts were oralised (i.e. sung or read aloud). So when when characters are said to speak to themselves, that discourse can be presented as being uttered aloud. This is clear in expressions such as ‘speaking softly so that nobody can hear’ or ‘speaking between one’s teeth’. In chansons de geste, expressions of pain or anger are shown both through gestures and through words (screams and laments). They are most often externalised rather than internalised.49 This is still partly true in romances. Indeed in some texts, the self-addressed monologues must be uttered aloud in order for the plot to unfold. In Béroul’s romance, Tristan is said to lament to himself (verse 237: demente soi a lui tot sol) but he is actually holding this monologue because he knows that King Marc is hidden in the tree above him, therefore convincing the king that he is not in love with Iseut. In the prose Roman du Comte d’Artois, the count’s wife (disguised as his squire) discovers that he loves another woman because he speaks his thoughts aloud during the night (line 3391). Similarly, in Chrétien’s Erec and Enide, it is because Enide unwittingly expresses her worries aloud that Erec thinks that she regrets having married him and therefore sets out for a trying journey with her (verse 2469). During their journey, Erec forbids Enide to speak to him. However when danger arises, she cannot stay quiet. In a first example she is said to speak quietly to herself so that he does not hear her (41). In subsequent similar episodes, this precision is not given and she might thus not be speaking aloud (see verses 2795, 2928, 3070, and 3699).

Medieval literature 

(41) Erec et Enide, 2744–56 Devant s’est mise, si se tot. Li uns a l’autre ne dit mot, met Enyde fut molt dolante; a li seule molt se demante söef en bas que il ne l’oie: ‘Hé lasse fet ele (. . . )’ Que qu’ele se demante ensi, uns chevalier del bois issi [She went before and kept silent. Neither said a word to the other, but Enide was very sorrowful; to herself she greatly lamented but softly so that he would not hear: ‘How unfortunate, she said, [. . . ]’. While she was lamenting thus, a knight came out of the forest]

All in all, romances use more self-addressed monologues in Direct Discourse than other genres and some of these examples can be described as ‘internal speech’ rather than ‘external speech’. Moreover, next to expressions such as dire a soi-même or en soi-même (‘to speak to oneself ’ or ‘within oneself ’), I also found more specific verbs such as penser (‘to think’) followed by Direct Discourse.50 (42) Ipomedon, 1456–60 Mult out dunc einz el quer grant ire, A sei meïsme en pensant dit: ‘Il ne pot mes se il est marit, Par ma folie le engignai E mal beivre a mun os bracei.’ [She had much anger in her heart, she said thinking to herself: ‘He is not at fault if he is angry, I tricked him through my own folly and brought bitter drink to my own mouth’] (43) Eracle, 183–7 dedens son lit se rest assise, si a pensé en mainte guise de çou que li angles a dit: ‘Aiue Dius Saint Esperit, se pense ele, con sera çou ?’ ...) [She sat back in her bed, she thought a great deal about what the angel had said. ‘Help me God’s Holy Spirit, she thinks, what will that be? [. . . ]’]

 Part II, Chapter 2

Obviously, verba sentiendi such as penser and être d’avis (‘to think’), cuidier (‘to think’, ‘to believe’), s’apercevoir (‘to realise’) are common with Indirect Discourses, next to some strange expression such as *dire en son secret estomac (‘to say within one’s secret stomach’, i.e. ‘to say to oneself ’ (44)). (44) Dole, 805–8 [Jouglet observes the effect his story has on the emperor’s mind] Cil s’aperçoit mout bien que cele li plesoit ja par oïr dire, et au samblant que il remire li est avis qu’il l’aime ja. [He sees clearly that this girl pleased him already by hearsay and, from the look of him, he thinks that he is already in love with her.] (45) Prose Tristan, §68, lines 31–4 Quant Kex entent ceste parole, dont primes quide il tout certainnement que mesire Tristrans soit de Cornouaille; si pense adonc qu’il li fera tout maintenant du tout reconnoistre sa couardise. [When Kay hears that word, then at first he firmly believes that my lord Tristan is from Cornwall; so he thinks that he will make him acknowledge his cowardice immediately.] (46) Artois, 1244–51 adont firent ung cry, lequel fu oï de toutez pars, puis se ferirent entre leurs ennemis de tel courage que ce sambloient leupz ravissans entre brebis, dont le conte d’Artois fu esjoï trez adcertez et dit en son secret estomacq s’il ne fait plus fort c’onquez mais il ne se prise ung denier; [Then they uttered a loud scream that was heard from everywhere and they threw themselves against their enemy with such courage that they seemed like wolves taking up sheep, which made the Count of Artois truly happy and he said deep within him that if he does not do better he will not consider himself of any worth.]

Of course there are also some important differences opposing the two genres, both in terms of form and content of S&TP. Indeed some of these differences are very obvious even in the very first prose romances. As Cerquiglini (1979) first noted (and I confirmed in Marnette 1998: 131–5), the prose transposition of the Estoire dou Graal differs from its verse version in that it rarely uses Free Direct Discourse or Free Indirect Discourse. This trend is reflected in most prose romances.51 Indeed, the verbum dicendi (or sentiendi) is not only almost

Medieval literature

mandatory in prose romances but it can also be reinforced by a second one (a very frequent feature in the prose Guillaume). (47) Guillaume, lines 418–9 Ainçois disoit en parlant a soy meesmes: ‘Haÿ! Vray Dieux, fet il, comme est cellui en grant peinne qui traveillie pour aultruy. [. . . ].’ [On the contrary, he was saying, speaking to himself, ‘Ha True God, says he, how painful it is for he who suffers for the sake of somebody else. [. . . ].’]

Furthermore, the verbum dicendi (or sentiendi) can also be ‘intensified’ by the use of a subordination marker such as que since, as I have shown above, the use of ‘Direct Discourse following que’ is higher in prose romances than in any other text (e.g. (7), (8) above). Conversely, prose romances contain almost no examples of ‘Indirect Discourse without que’. On the other hand verse romances use more Free Direct Discourses than any other texts, especially in dialogues, which makes them very lively 48), compared to prose romances (49). Note that in the following example, there would probably be no helpful punctuation in the medieval manuscript (see Note 16 supra). Moreover, two discourses can appear within the same verse, which never happens in the chansons de geste of my corpus. (48) Ombre 789–805 [the lady wants the knight to take his ring back] Fet ele: ‘[. . .] She says: ‘[. . .] Il le vos convient a reprendre. You must take it back. Si fet. – Non fet! – La n’a que dire, You do. – I don’t! – There is nothing to say Ou vous estes molt plus que sire, Where you are more than the master, Se vostre anuis a ce m’esforce If your pestering compels me to this Que vos le me voilliez par force, That you want me to keep it Maugré mien, fere retenir. By force, despite me. Tenez! – Jamès nu quier tenir! Here you are! – Never do I want to hold it. – Si ferez! – Je non ferai voir! – Yes you will! I will not indeed! – Volez le me vos fere avoir – Do you want to make me have it A force? – Nenil voir , amie: By force? – Not at all, my friend: Bien sai ce pooir n’ai ge mie [. . . ]’ I know that I don’t have that power. [. . . ]’



 Part II, Chapter 2

(49) Mort Artu §31 line 20–32 [. . .] ele demande a monseigneur Gauvain: ‘Ne fu mie Lancelos a ceste assemblee? – Dame, fet il, se il I fu et ge l’i vi, nel connui ge pas; [. . . ] – Et ge vos di, fet la reïne, que il i ala au plus covertement qu’il pot. – Et ge vos di, dame, fet messire Gauvains, que se il I fu, ce fu cil as armes vermeilles qui veinqui le tornoiement. – Ce ne fu il pas, fet la reïne, ce sachiez veraiment; [. . . ].’ [. . .] she asks my lord Gauvain: ‘Was Lancelot not at that tournament? – Lady, he says, if he was there and I saw him, I did not recognise him; [. . . ] – And I am telling you, says the queen, that he went there as secretly as he could. – And I am telling you, Lady, says Gauvain, that if he was there, he was the one with the crimson weapons, who won the tournament. – He was not, says the queen, this you should truly know; [. . . ].’

We have also seen that they use more ‘Indirect Discourses without que’ (e.g. (15), (16) above). Moreover, in verse romances, verbum dicendi rarely introduce Direct Discourses immediately following an Indirect Discourse. Indeed, these Direct Discourses sometimes follow a Free Indirect Discourse, therefore easing the transition from the narrator’s discourse to the character’s discourse (e.g. (12) above). While both genres express more thoughts than other texts, they do not do so in the same way. Prose romances tend to use Indirect Thoughts only while verse romances also use Free Indirect Thoughts as well as Direct Thoughts (i.e. self addressed monologues).52 According to Leech and Short (1981: 324), the norm for representing speech is the direct mode, while the norm for representing thought is the indirect mode since the thoughts of others cannot be directly observed. Therefore, with regards to the respective norms, the free indirect mode implies a move in the direction of greater narrator control of the discourse in the case of speech, while in the case of thought the reverse situation occurs.53 Free indirect thought thus involves a move towards language (however fictional, since we are dealing with thoughts) and of course so does Direct Thought. By using both, verse romances clearly give more room to the characters’ own perspectives and more vividly so than their prose counterparts. In summary, prose romances show a very strong tendency to identify formally the various locutors present in the text and to distinguish clearly between the various discourses. Indeed, this can be paralleled to the structuring role of the formula le conte dit que (‘the tale says that’) that helps identifying the many episodes of the text. On the contrary, verse romances allow for flexibility (and even in some cases some ambiguity) as to who is speaking (or thinking). These

Medieval literature

findings can be linked to the ideology underlying the two genres. Without going in too much detail, one could say that they envisage truth and reality in essentially different ways. As I have shown in Section 3 above, the first prose romances aimed at representing a unique religious truth based on a specific source (God’s voice, witnesses’ stories, etc.) and thus a unique reality. Later romances, while not based on a religious topic such as the Grail, were nonetheless often presented as chronicles and thus once again as historical.54 Historical (and/or religious) truth must rely on clearly identifiable discourses and allow (in principle) only for one point of view, that of the narrative voice, to which the characters’ discourses are clearly subordinated (hence the strong marking of reported discourses, the rarity of Free Direct Discourse and Free Indirect Discourse, etc.). Verse romances present truth not as a reflection of historical and religious events but rather as based on the verisimilitude of the events told. As often announced in the prologues, this truth relies on the compositional skills of the author and on the way he or she will describe feelings and situations that are coherent with the expectations of the genre. One such expectation is that the description of love should be relevant to the listeners-readers’ anticipation of what courtly love should be. For romances based on Briton material, these expectations also rely on the supernatural background (fairies, potions, dragons, etc) while in more ‘realistic’ romances it is linked to the idyllic décor that literature is supposed to purport (e.g. a perfectly good emperor or an endlessly generous and brave knight, see Zink 1979: 39–44). Moreover, prologues of texts such as Chrétien’s Erec and Marie’s Lais indicate that the authors give a certain meaning to their texts, which must in turn be interpreted by their listeners-readers.55 The path to interpretation is undoubtedly challenged by a considerable amount of intricacy between the presentation of characters’ thoughts, the narrator’s own comments and numerous allegorical passages. Indeed, there is doubt as to whether there is any one unique interpretation possible, considering the amount of irony present in verse romances. What we are presented with is several layers of reality and several levels of interpretation which all depend on the skills and the will of the first-person narrator. For example, the use of Free Indirect Discourse allows the narrator to blur the boundaries between his/her discourse and that of the characters. Through Free Indirect Thoughts, we are passing from the external point of view of the narrator (standing, as it were, outside of the story) to the internal perspective of the character.56 In other words we are dealing with two different realities and this opposition can lead to irony since it opposes what



 Part II, Chapter 2

the character thinks and believes to what the listeners-readers and/or the other characters know. (50) Lais de Marie de France, Milon 127–35 [a young woman who secretly had a child with her lover is forced to marry another man] Quant ele sot cele aventure, mult est dolente a desmesure e suvent regrete Milun

When she learnt about this misfortune, she is completely desperate and she often longs for Milon [her lover] car mult dute la mesprisun since she fears she will be punished de ceo qu’ele ot eü enfant; for having had a child; il le savra demeintenant. He (her husband) will immediately find out about it ‘Lasse, fet ele, que ferai? ‘How unfortunate, she says, what will I do? Avrai seignur? Cum le prendrai? Will I have a husband? How could I marry him? Ja ne sui jeo mie pucele; I am not a virgin any more; (. . . )’ (. . . )’ (51) Ipomedon, p. 493 [the heroin La Fiere does not know that she is actually fleeing her lover, who has taken a disguise] La Fiere ad tut sun cunseil pris; Meulz veut guerpir tut le païs, Ses chasteaus e tute sa hunur, Ke prendre celui a seignur. Mut est tost del chastel eissu E est deske as bateaus venu, (. . .)

La Fiere has made her decision; She would rather leave the entire region, Her castle and her renown, Than take this man as her husband. She has quickly left the castle And gone to the boat (. . .)

Free Direct Discourse also allows for ambiguity and certainly calls for the utmost attention on the part of the listeners-readers since it is not always easy to know who speaks and when (48). In addition, some character’s monologues in Direct Discourse are in fact schizophrenic discussions between two personae, e.g. the reasonable side of the character (Reason) and the unreasonable one (Love). In certain cases one could even argue for interpreting this dialogic monologue as an actual discussion between the character and the narrator. What is important here is not the authenticity of monologues but rather the narrator’s skill in accurately portraying the different forces at work within the character’s mind. Once again, the truth is not referential but rather topical (Kelly 1992: 145, 210).57

Medieval literature

(52) Eracle, verse 3734–54 Il set tres bien et si entent qu’ele l’esgarde en maint endroit; il pense puis: ‘Et s’a grant droit s’ele m’esgarde en tel maniere, que devant tous port le baniere de bien saillir, de bien harper!

He knows very well and understands that she looks at him in many places; He then thinks: ‘She is entirely right to look at me in that way since in front of all I carry the prize of dancing well, of playing the harp nicely! En ceste place n’a son per In this place my harp has no equal me harpe, si est bone eslite; It is well chosen. Ele l’entent si se delite. She hears it, she enjoys it. Onques selonc m’entention Never, in my understanding, ne m’esgarda se por ce non. Did she look at me except for this reason, – Si est, espoir, por tes biaus ieus. – It is, maybe, for your beautiful eyes. – Or esce folie et orgieus – Now it is folly and arrogance quant tu cuides ne ne cuidas when you think or thought que fust por toi! – Je ne cui¯e pas, that it was for you! – I don’t think ainc ne cuidai que fust por moi. nor ever thought that it was for me. – Esta en toi! – Que dis ‘en toi’? – Keep to yourself! – What are you saying ‘to yourself ’? Las! je ne puis en moi ester, Unfortunate! I can not keep to myself, mes cuers ne se velt arester, my heart does not want to stop, ains m’a relenqui des hui main on the contrary, it left me this morning et si m’a mis en autrui main; and put me in the hands of someone else;

In conclusion, S&TP strategies in verse and prose romances differ both in form and content, and more importantly they answer very distinct narratological needs.

. Conclusion As this chapter has shown, to examine the evolution of S&TP in the Middle Ages means to describe complex discourse strategies at work in a language that was sometimes seen by linguists and literary scholars as lacking any kind of sophistication. Intrinsically, S&TP in the Middle Ages can only be studied in a dynamic view since it links internal phenomena (elaboration of forms) to



 Part II, Chapter 2

external phenomena (elaboration of functions) through the very evolution of medieval literary genres and their different conceptualisations of reality, history and fiction.

Notes . For the purpose of the present study, I will consider the collection of short verse stories called Les lais de Marie de France and the short verse narrative called Le lai de l’Ombre under the heading of verse romances. Several texts analysed here were studied in my previous book (Marnette 1998). However my corpus has substantially increased (from 22 to 39 texts). Most importantly, I have added several texts from the 14th and 15th centuries, a period usually called ‘Middle French’ (in contrast to Old French, 10th to 13th centuries). Some of the texts are in fact excerpts, due to the length of the full work (see Appendix 3). . This is of course also the case in Modern Spoken French, as opposed to most written press or literary fiction. On tense and Indirect Discourse in French, see amongst others Bauer (1996) and Landerweerd & Vet (1996). . See Marnette (1996, 1998: 116–117, 128–129, 144–151, 1999a: 390–392). Note also the now classic articles by Cerquiglini (1984), Rychner (1980, 1987, 1989) and Bruña-Cuevas (1988, 1989). . For discussions and examples of mixed discourses in Modern French, See Part I, Chapter 3, Section 2.3 as well as Part II, Chapter 4. . Bruña-Cuevas (1996), unlike his colleagues, considers only occurrences like (7) to be a true ‘Direct Discourse introduced by que’, having a distinct role from that of Direct Discourse. For him, the other examples are simple Direct Discourses following an Indirect Discourse. This would incredibly restrict the importance of this category since there are only 14 such examples in my corpus (see Note 9 infra). . For Old French, also see Brandsma (1999, 2002) and López-Muñoz (1998, 2002). See Rosier (2000c) for Middle French and Rosier (1999: 217–221) for Modern French. . See the corpus list in Appendix 3. . The excerpts taken from the chronicles of Monstrelet and Berry contain very few Direct Discourses anyway (Monstrelet: 7 out of 131 reported discourses, two of them being long administrative (written) documents quoted in texto, Berry: 1 out of 95 reported discourses). . Only 14 examples are instances where que is directly followed by Direct Discourse (0.1%) and 12 of them are found in prose texts, see (7). 57 examples have a Direct Discourse with an inquit formula following an Indirect Discourse (0.3%), see (8), (9). 75 examples have a Direct Discourse following an Indirect Discourse without an inquit formula but with a clear link to the preceding Indirect Discourse (0.5%), see (10). 38 examples have a Direct Discourse following an Indirect Discourse without an inquit formula and without a clear link to the preceding Indirect Discourse (0.2%), see (11). . Furthermore, the need to move towards a quoted discourse that is closer to the character’s expression / point of view, is particularly clear in examples that have performative

Medieval literature 

expressions or where characters themselves quote other characters: there are 34% such cases of double embedding within Direct Discourse (63 occurrences, see (7)). On the other hand, the Direct Discourse itself sometimes clarifies a double embedding within the Indirect Discourse or the Free Indirect Discourse preceding the Direct Discourse (10% of the cases, see (12) supra). . In his study of S&TP in Old Russian, Collins (2001: 103–4) finds occurrences of what he calls uncomplementized indirect speech (i.e. ID without que) and complementized direct speech (i.e. DD with que), which proves that these categories are not restricted to a specific language or a particular period in time. . Some philologists consider the omission of subordination markers in completive as quite frequent (Anglade (1947: 226–27), Bonnard & Régnier (1989: 212), Foulet (1963: 333– 36), Hasenohr (1990, §300), Kibler (1984: 260–61), Soutet (1992: 72), Togeby (1974: 133) ´ while others simply mention its possibility (Bruna-Cuevas (1996: 8–59), Buridant (2000: 676), Einhorn (1974: 102), Marchello-Nizia & Picoche (1996: 313), Martin & Wilmet (1980: 227), Ménard (1973: 188–89, 206–10), Moignet (1973: 339), Nyrop (1930: 159), Price (1971: 161), von Wartburg (1962: 98)). Moignet thinks that this phenomenon happens mainly in the old period, for verse texts and especially epic texts. Togeby links it to the paratactical style of epic texts. For Kibler, que can be absent ‘particularly in epic texts and in colloquial style’ (whatever colloquial style means since his examples are taken from the Song of Roland and the Lais of Marie de France!). Ménard also speaks about epic texts and mentions the 12th-c. while, in Martin & Wilmet’s view, que can still be omitted in Middle French. Bonnard & Régnier, Einhorn, Foulet and Kibler each give a short list of verbs that can be used without que (present in all lists: cuidier ‘to think’, penser ‘to think’, promettre ‘to promise’, savoir ‘to know’, vouloir ‘to want’). Hasenohr and Marchello-Nizia & Picoche note that que can be omitted in front of any completive clause. Anglade, Einhorn, Foulet, Nyrop and Togeby give examples where the main clause is negative (or carries an interdiction) and where the completive verb is preceded by a negation. This verb must necessarily be in the subjunctive mood, say Foulet and Nyrop. For other grammarians, the absence of que in the completive is only seen as a loosening of subordination, due to the insertion of another subordinate clause (Ménard, Martin & Wilmet, Soutet). Nyrop observes that que is often omitted after ‘verba declarandi’ while Togeby speaks of verbs of opinion and declaration. Kibler mentions, amongst others, verbs of thinking and saying while Ménard and Buridant are the only ones dedicating special sections to reported discourse where they briefly mention the omission of que in Indirect Discourse. Buridant calls this construction ‘freed indirect style’, explaining that most often the conjunction que is expressed first but then omitted throught the loosening of subordination, a description than does not correspond to examples (13), (14), (15) above. Five of the twenty four works under scrutiny did not mention ‘ID without que’ at all: Harris (1978), Kukenheim (1967), Marchello-Nizia (1979), Wagner (1974) and Sneyders de Vogel 1927. Dauzat (1930, §545) refers to the possiblity for Old French to use subjunctive without conjunction (like in Latin) but he does not mention indicative. Le Bidois & Le Bidois (1978: 360–66) talk about he absence of que in Indirect Discourse but their examples are in fact Free Indirect Discourses (see infra). . It is also absent from Charlemagne, Erec and Yvain.

 Part II, Chapter 2 . In the chansons de geste, we find a quasi automatic occurrence of certain features: 70% of ‘ID without que’ appear with the specific verbum dicendi jurer (i.e. 21 of the 50 occurrences of jurer + Indirect Discourse found in these texts). 54% of ‘ID without que’ are fronted with words such as mar, ja, ne and se. Moreover 23% of these discourses are neutral (no difference between Direct Discourse and Indirect Discourse). As we will see infra, there are not many Indirect Discourses in the chansons de geste and on average 10% of them are ‘ID without que’, which is a higher percentage than verse romances (4%). However, if one considers the overall number of reported discourses, chansons de geste use less ‘ID without que’ – and less Indirect Discourses – than other verse texts (30 occurrences for 3277 reported discourses, 0.9% in chansons de geste versus 47 occurrences for 4015 reported discourses, 1.2% in other verse texts). In other verse texts, contrary to chanson de geste, half of the occurrences appear with the verb dire and only 7% with jurer. Only 38% of occurrences are fronted with ne, ja or se and only 7% are neutral. The use of ‘ID without que’ in these texts seems thus less ‘co-textually automatic’ and more contextually motivated. . 57% of the verbum dicendi introducing ‘ID without que’ are conjugated in a tense linked to the present, and the first verbs of the completives are mostly in the present indicative (36%), future indicative (27%) or present subjunctive (19%). . Marchello-Nizia (1978: 40–41) indicates that the use of capitals at the beginning of a sentence can signal Direct Discourse in medieval manuscripts. Busby (2002: 171, 193) also notes that Direct Discourse can be highlighted through pen-flourished initials and/or punctuation marks such as the punctus (period) or punctus elevatus (inverted semi-colon) coming before the switch to reported discourse, after the first apostrophe or after the incidental clause. However these various markers are not necessarily consistent across the same manuscript nor are they specific to reported discourse. They are thus far more ambiguous than modern quotation marks, which were first used in the 16th-c. (Rosier 1999: 67–71). The colon and the quotation marks signalling Direct Discourse in the above example would thus be entirely dependent on the modern editor’s understanding of the passage. In a sense it is the modern punctuation which puts pressure on us as readers to make a choice about where we are on the continuum, something which would not have been so acute for the medieval listener/reader. For a concise history of punctuation in Western Europe, see Parkes (1992). . ‘ID without que’ is also used in the characters’ quoted discourses in the verse romances but less than in chansons de geste (4% versus 17% of Indirect Discourse). The category is absent from Alexis ms H, M2, S, Charlemagne, Orange ms AB, Orange ms CE and Erec It is pretty much absent from all prose texts. In this context, the category is used in the same way in all texts. A majority of verbum dicendi are in the 1st or the second person singular (66%+17%) and in the indicative present (61%). This means that we are dealing with performative examples such as je dis X, je jure X, je commande X or dis-lui X, tu lui diras X. The discourses reported are neutral in 54% of the cases. 29% of occurrences are fronted with ne, ja or se. . My corpus contains 8 chansons de geste. The Chanson de Roland is said to date from late 11th-c. The Pelerinage de Charlemagne and two versions of the Prise d’Orange (manuscripts AB and CE) are dated from the 12th-c. Raoul de Cambrai, Le Chevalier au cygne, Huon de Bordeau are all three dated from late 12th-c. to early 13th-c. (see Note 30 & 31 infra). Tristan de Nanteuil is a 14th-c. text.

Medieval literature  . Direct Discourse represents more than 90% of the overall number of reported discourses in most chansons de geste, with the exception of 73% for Cygne and 81% for Nanteuil. In comparison, the number of Direct Discourses is lower than 80% in all the other texts of the corpus, except for Froissart 2 (89%, see explanations infra). . The number of characters’ reported discourses and the space they occupy in the chansons de geste are not different from other texts but it is interesting to note that they use more Free Indirect Discourses (from 6% to 18% of the overall number of characters’ reported discourses, except for Nanteuil: 2%). Because of that and of the narrator’s very low use of (Free) Indirect Discourses, there is a bigger contrast between narrator’s S&TP strategies and character’s S&TP strategies in chansons de geste than in other texts. . Occurrences of first-person (F)ID are, in ascending order: Orange ms CE 1 occurrence (3% of overall number of (F)ID), Huon 36 (16%), Orange ms AB 7 (20%), Charlemagne 3 (30%), Roland 27 (31%), Cygne 19 (35%), Raoul 44 (38%), Nanteuil 46 (55%). . Occurrences of commands in (F)ID are, in ascending order: Huon 16 (7% of the overall number of (F)ID), Nanteuil 8 (10%), Roland 14 (16%), Cygne 9 (16%), Raoul 19 (17%), Orange ms AB 9 (26%), Charlemagne 3 (30%), Orange ms CE 10 (34%). The use of performative first-person expressions and command is predominant in five out of the eight chansons de geste: Cygne 16% + 31% = 48%, Raoul 17% + 35% = 51%, Orange ms AB 26% + 30% = 56%, Charlemagne 30% + 38% = 68%, Orange ms CE 34% + 55% = 90% . In that context, the verba dicendi are often of the type to say, to tell, to command and are used in the second or third person either in the present indicative or in the future indicative. Occurrences of messages in (F)ID are the following, in ascending order: Nanteuil 9 (11% of overall number), Huon 29 (13%), Charlemagne 2 (20%), Raoul 25 (22%), Cygne 15 (27%), Orange ms AB 11 (31%), Orange ms CE 9 (31%), Roland 29 (34%). . Actually the original message is often in Indirect Discourse as well. For example in Roland 81–82, Marsile gives his message to his messengers: Dist a ses humes: ‘[. . . ] Si me direz a Carlemagne le rei/ Pur le soen Deu qu’il ait mercit de mei. [. . . ]’. [He said to his men: ‘[. . .] You will tell king Charlemagne / By his god that he might have mercy on me’]. In fact, Marsile never comes face to face with Charlemagne. The original indirectness of the messages therefore underlines the fact that the je and vous of these reported discourses never refer both to the sender and the addressee. Thus the messages are reported in an indirect way because their very essence is their indirectness, their ‘deferment’. . Another very good example is to be found in Orange (Ms AB 580-590, 705-717, ms CE 536-47) where the main character Guillaume, disguised as a merchand, reports threatening messages that are supposed to come from himself to the unsuspecting pagans Prince Aragon and Queen Orable (see Marnette 1999a: 404–5). . Occurrences of storytelling in (F)ID are the following, in ascending order: Roland 4 (5% of overall number of (F)ID), Nanteuil 10 (12%), Cygne 7 (13%), Orange ms AB 6 (17%), Raoul 25 (22%), Charlemagne 3 (30%), Orange ms CE 9 (31%), Huon 162 (72%). . Ruelle’s edition offers the version of ms M (the oldest one). In a footnote, the editor indicates thant ms T gives qui ert navrés (‘who was wounded’) and ms P qu’il ot navré (‘whom he had wounded’). The use of past tenses instead of a present tense (est, ‘is’) would have allowed me to include that segment within the Indirect Discourse.

 Part II, Chapter 2 . Ms P (more recent) gives the version por iceu m’allait il defiant que (‘for that he was challenging me that. . .’). The use of imperfect tense allait instead of simple past alla would allow me to treat that segment as Free Indirect Discourse, i.e. as a transposition of the original discourse of the attacker (verse 862) de le mort te desfi (‘I challenge you to death’). Of course the meaning of the verb is also relevant for my interpretation since one can say ‘I challenge you’ but less easily ‘I threathen you’. In other words, the use of ‘he was challenging me that’ is doubly different from ‘he threatened me that’: it is both the meaning of the verb (to challenge versus to threathen) and the use of tense (imperfect versus simple past) that determine whether we are dealing with a Free Indirect Discourse or not. . In his study of S&TP in Old Russian, Collins (2001: 204–43) similarly finds that direct speech is rarely embedded within another direct speech (a phenomenon he calls ‘layered reports’) because of the need for clarity to mark new turns and of the difficulty of keeping track of several deictic pivots. He notes that indirect speech and what he calls ‘nondirect speech’ (i.e. ‘ID without que’) are used instead. . Early chansons de geste (Roland, Charlemagne) date back to the 11th-c. but verse romances appeared in the 12th-c. and prose romances and vernacular chronicles developed in the 13th-c. While chansons de geste such as Tristan de Nanteuil were still composed in the 14th-c., the genre was definitely less productive by that time than these of prose romances and chronicles. This is not to say that the epic material was not appreciated anymore: several chansons de geste were actually transposed into prose romances in the 14th and 15th-c., such as it is the case with the epic cycle of Guillaume d’Orange, which became the prose Roman de Guillaume in the 15th-c. (see Orange and Guillaume in my corpus). . The dates of composition given by the editors of the texts used in my corpus are the following: Cygne: between 1170 and 1218; Raoul: between 1180 and 1223; Huon: between 1216 and 1229; Nanteuil: 14th-c. Unfortunately, the datation of medieval texts is a very difficult enterprise, mostly based on a few historical indices spread over the texts (e.g. references to earlier texts, to specific historical facts, intertextual elements, etc.). Modern editors usually venture into giving a terminus a quo (from when) and a terminus ad quem (up to) but these are often hotly debated between scholars. For example, the terminus a quo given for the Cygne is particularly vague: 1170 is the date of composition of Fouques de Candie, a philosophical text quoted in the chanson (see Nelson’s edition p. xxviii). Of course, it means that the Cygne must have been written after 1170 but it is not very precise. . For an in-depth analysis and detailed references to other relevant works, see Marnette 1998, 1999a, b, 2000, 2001, 2002d. . It is important to note that I am not discussing whether the events presented in the chronicles are historically true in the modern sense of the term. What is of interest here is that they are presented as true by the narrative. In fact, as Beer (1981) shows, references to eye-witness or insistence on sincerity are rhetorical topoi borrowed from ancient Latin texts. For a reflection on the notions of truth and fiction in medieval chronicles and their links with other genres, see, amongst others, Fleischman 1983, Levine 1985, 1991, 1998, Marnette 1998, 2002c, 2002d, Zumthor 1975. . We find these expressions even in later texts, e.g. Huon 8711, etc. Cygne 3913, 3923, 3965, etc. Nanteuil 1241, 1246, 1267, etc.

Medieval literature  . For a discussion of the historicity of these events see Fleischman 1983, Duggan 1987, Kay 1987, 1995. . There are 9 prose chronicles in the corpus: two accounts of the sack of Constantinople, one by Clari and one by Villehardouin (around 1210), the story of Saint Louis’ life by Joinville (1309). There are also three excerpts taken from three different books of Froissart’s chronicles (Volume 1 composed around 1380, Volume 3 (ca 1400) and Volume 4 (ca 1400)), one excerpt of Monstrelet’s chronicle (book 2, ca 1450), one excerpt taken from Les Chroniques du roi Charles VII by Gilles Le Bouvier dit Le Héraut Berry (ca 1455) and one excerpt of Commynes’ Mémoires (Volume 1, ca 1490). As will be shown infra, the three excerpt taken from Froissart’s chronicles behave very differently in terms of reported discourse, which justifies their treatment as separate texts (see Marnette 2002d). Note that verse chronicles also existed in Medieval French although they were rarer than the prose ones. See, for example, Jordan Fantosme’s chronicle composed ca 1175 (Fleischman 1983; Johnston 1976; Legge 1963; Lodge 1990), or 14th-c. historical poems such as Cuvelier’s La Vie Vaillante de Bertrand Du Guesclin (Levine 1985) or the Life of the Black Prince, by the herald of Sir John Chandos (Fleischman 1983; Palmer 1982). . It is also important to note that Indirect Discourse is used in less than 1.5% of the text space in most chansons de geste (Cygne 2% and Nanteuil 3%) but in more than 6% in each of the chronicles (except Froissart 2, 0.6%, see infra). These ratios are obtained by dividing the space (verses or lines) used by reported discourses by the total space (verses or lines) of the text (see Marnette 1998: 16). . Expressions such as je dis que are used in the following amounts: Joinville 0.2%, Froissart 2 0.5%, Froissart 3 0.2%, Commynes 0.4%; expressions such as je crois que appear with the following frequency: Clari 0.1%, Joinville 0.1%, Froissart 1 0.4%, Monstrelet 0.1%, Commynes 1.4%. While these frequencies seem rather low, they are in fact substantially higher than in the other texts of the corpus. Notice the relative importance of these reflexive expressions in Commynes’ text (1.4%), which shows that it is a personal reflection on the story told, i.e. the work of a memoirist. . Earliest prose romances such as Lancelot and the Mort Artu make almost no references to the narrator in the first person singular, which is very different from previous verse romances. Later prose romances starting with the prose Tristan reintroduced references to the first person but continued to use expressions such as le conte or l’histoire (‘the story’). In parallel, the view of the chivalric world given in the prose Tristan is much more critical and multifaceted than in the previous Grail romances. See Marnette 1998: 43–51 and infra. . See amongst other Baumgartner 1995: 82, Burns 1985 and Marnette 1998: 45. . Sometimes the story refers to real persons. In Le roman de Jehan de Saintré, for example, the narrator speaks about characters that really existed (Saintré, Boucicault), while other characters are mentioned only with a formula that keeps them anonymous: une dame des belles cousines (‘a lady amongst the beautiful cousins’). . See Marnette 1998 for more detailed references on the evolution of verse and prose romances. . My corpus contains one romance using the Antiquity’s background: Eracle, by Gautier d’Arras, takes place in Rome and Constantinople (composed around 1170–5). I included

 Part II, Chapter 2

four texts using Briton material, all from the last quarter of the 12th-c.): Erec et Enide and Yvain ou Le Chevalier au lion (‘The Knight with the Lion’) both by Chrétien de Troyes, Béroul’s Tristan et Iseut, the Lais by Marie de France. The Estoire dou Graal by Robert de Boron introduces the story of the Grail, starting from Christ’ death (composed around 1200, see infra). Three romances take place in a more contemporary courtly atmosphere: Ipomedon by Hue de Rothelande (1180–8), Le Roman de la Rose ou de Guillaume de Dole and the Lai de l’Ombre, both by Jean Renart (1st quarter of 13th-c.). . The names are usually accompanied by third-person verb endings and pronouns and appear at the beginning and/or end of the text. Note that the text called the Lais de Marie de France is a collection of 12 lais (i.e. short stories). These lais are considered as having been composed by the same person because in one manuscript, they are preceded by a general prologue (although it might have been composed later than the lais). Because the first lai contains a reference to an author named Marie, the whole collection has been attributed to a person called Marie de France and the narrator’s persona is seen as female (although no other reference in the rest of the collection is explicitly female). Moreover, the qualification de France refers to a collection of fables whose author names herself Marie and says si sui de France (‘I am from France’, i.e. from France in opposition to England, where that text was composed). There is no explicit author’s name in Le Roman de la Rose ou de Guillaume de Dole but it is said to have been written by Jean Renart (who also is the author of the Lai de l’Ombre) based on an anagram (verses 5653-5) and similarities in style and content (see Psaki 1995; Zink 1979 amongst others). . In Béroul’s Tristan, there are more references to the listeners-readers than to the firstperson narrator. This is one of the factors that make it very close to the chansons de geste (see Marnette 1998: 203). . Another manuscript of the same text offers the second person instead of the first-person pronoun, which is posibly more understandable: I don’t believe that any of us is lying (i.e. Walter Map and I). . Up to that point, prose had been mostly used in Latin texts, i.e. in translations of the Bible, saints lives other religious texts and chronicles. The first vernacular prose texts were the Grail trilogy and the two chronicles of Constantinople (all from the beginning of 13th-c.). . One finds an average of 1 to 4.5 Direct Discourses for every Indirect Discourse in the romances. This number is higher in the chansons de geste (except Cygne 3.4) and lower in the chronicles (except Froissart 2 8.4). In some romances like Guillaume, Artois and the lais, Indirect and Free Indirect Discourses account for more than 50% of the overall number of reported discourses. In other romances, the average is between 20 and 40%, in comparison to the chansons de geste (less than 20%, except Cygne 27%) and to the chronicles (more than 62%, except Froissart 2 11%). The differences are the same if we look at the space occupied by transposed discourse (ID and FID) in the different genres. . As we have seen above, free indirect thoughts do appear in chansons de geste but they are very rare, especially in the narrative part of the text.

Medieval literature  . There are no examples of Direct Thought monologues in the Graal texts, nor in Lancelot and Jehan de Paris. I found the verb penser + Direct Discourse only in Ipomedon, Eracle, Ombre, Artois and Saintré. Other texts mostly use expressions with the verb dire (‘to say’). . Free Indirect Discourses account for less than 1% of the overall number of reported discourses in the prose romances (except Artois 2.3% and prose Tristan 2.7%), compared to more than 2% in verse romances. . In verse romances, Direct Thoughts represent more than 1% of in the overall number of reported discourses (except Graal 0%, Yvain 0.4%), in comparison to fewer than 1% for prose romances (except Guillaume 2.8%). Verse romances also use more Free Indirect Thoughts (0.9% and more, except Graal O.6%) compared to prose romances (less than 0.8%, except prose Tristan 1.8%). . See Part II, Chapter 3 for more detail on this continuum and its application to modern French literature. . The extreme length of prose romances also gives them an historical and encyclopaedic flavour since they are supposed to tell the story of an entire family from their earlier ancestors on (e.g. the Lancelot-Grail cycle, the Prose Tristan, Perceforest). Obviously, as shown in the previous section and in Marnette (2002d), prose romances that call themselves chroniques or histoires do so as a rhetorical ploy and are far from showing the same S&TP strategies as real chronicles. . For more detail, see Kelly 1992, Marnette 1998: 89–96, Zink 1995: 55–7. . That is we are going from external focalisation to internal focalisation, to use RimmonKenan’s terms (1983: 74–85), following and modifying Genette (1972). As mentioned in Part I, Chapter 1, Section 5, a third-person narrative presents events as filtered through specific centres of perspective, called focalisers: the narrator outside the story or a character within the story. In the first case, which Rimmon-Kenan (1983: 72) calls ‘external focalisation’, the narrator, as focalising agent, potentially has a total knowledge of the events (s/he can see and perceive everything, everywhere, at any time). In the second case, called ‘internal focalisation’, we are limited to the perspective of a specific character. Typically, a narrative alternates between different focalisations (also called point of view) so that we are presented with a single narrative voice (the narrator of the story) and with several points of view (depending on the number of focalisers). For medieval French, see Marnette 1998, Chapters 5 and 6. For modern literature, see next chapter of this part. . Other such dialogic monologues are Ipomedon p. 108, 117, 447, Eracle 3543, 3736, 3869, Yvain 1432–1510, Ombre 684. In Yvain, there is also a monologue where the character, Laudine, imagines her argument with her husband’s murderer (v 1761). In Erec and Enide, Enide’s monologues are also similar to a dialogue since she speaks to herself in the second person but she does not use questions and answers as in (48) above.

Chapter 3

Ninetieth and twentieth-century literature

.

Introduction

While 19th-c. literature saw the rise and expansion of Free Indirect Discourse, 20th-c. writers seem to have further developed other ways of ‘freeing’ the speech and the thoughts of their characters, notably by using what is now called ‘Free Direct Discourse’ (including, but not restricted to, interior monologue). Both evolutions brought about new possibilities for the expression of point of view, allowing narrators to cast doubt on the stability and homogeneity of their narration and giving readers an active responsibility in decrypting the various levels of ‘enunciation’ at play in the narratives. Contrary to what is the case in other domains such as spoken French, medieval French or the written press, Speech and Thought Presentation has been very extensively studied in Modern French Literature. Indeed most traditional definitions of reported discourse categories, especially regarding Free Indirect Discourse, were originally exclusively based on their occurrences in literature. This explains why the present chapter cannot be exhaustive, nor for that matter entirely new. . . My aim is to give a rather broad overview of a few interesting S&TP strategies in 19th and 20th-c. literature while linking them to the evolution of narrative voices and points of view. In doing so, I am intensely aware that I am leaving on the side many other exciting approaches to S&TP in literature, be they sociological, ideological or purely stylistic. What is original in my analysis is the attention paid to the distinction between reported speech and reported thought and its importance for analysing the various focalisations at play within the narratives. The first part of this chapter will deal with free indirect speech and free indirect thought in 19th-c. literature in rather general terms, albeit with more attention paid to the works of Flaubert and Zola since they are often seen as major precursors in the use of Free Indirect Discourse. The corpus is composed of nine ‘classics’: Balzac, Le Père Goriot (1843); Flaubert, L’éducation sentimentale (1869) and Madame Bovary (1856); Hugo Quatre-vingt-treize (1892); Maupassant Bel Ami (1885) and Le Horla (two versions, 1886 & 1887); Stendhal,

 Part II, Chapter 3

Le Rouge et le Noir (1830); Zola, Nana (1881) and Pot Bouille (1883).1 The second part will focus on the use of Free Indirect Discourse and Free Direct Discourse in five 20th-c. texts: Aragon, Les Cloches de Bâles (1934); Céline, Voyage au bout de la nuit (1932); Gide, Les Faux-monnayeurs (1925); Queneau, Zazie dans le métro (1959); Sarraute, Le Planétarium (1959).2 Given the vast amount of critical literature written on these texts and their authors, referencing will be restricted to scholarly works that specifically deal with S&TP. The focus is on third-person narration and only two texts are first-person narratives: Maupassant second version of Le Horla (1887) and Céline, Voyage au bout de la nuit.

. Free Indirect Discourse in ninetieth-century literature Free Indirect Discourse has been so thoroughly studied in the 20th-c. that it would take an entire book to review the works written on its history, its form, its functions in literature and even its name. Its popularity amongst linguists and literary scholars also betrays its contentiousness since there is not much agreement on any of these topics. In order to avoid lengthy recapitulations of existing discussions, I will state the four essential points that inform my own linguistic and literary approach of Free Indirect Discourse: 3 – – – –

Free Indirect Discourse existed before the 19th c. both as a form and as an S&TP strategy. Free Indirect Discourse is not peculiar to literature. Free Indirect Discourse can take various forms depending on its context. Free Indirect Discourse has different functions depending on its context and its type (i.e. speech or thought/attitude).

Points one, two and three have already been discussed and illustrated at different stages of the present book. Indeed, I have offered examples of Free Indirect Discourses in medieval literature and in modern spoken French, and I have shown that these examples fitted within specific global S&TP strategies (e.g. reporting characters’ messages in medieval chansons de geste, enlivening and distancing first-person thoughts in a modern spoken narrative, etc.).4 I also emphasized that in these contexts, Free Indirect Discourse could take different forms than the canonical third person imperfect (continuous past) found in 19th-c. novels. It can appear in the first or the second person, e.g. in a firstperson narrative or when a character quotes another character. It can also be in the indicative present or future, e.g. when appearing in narratives mixing

Ninetieth and twentieth-century literature 

present tenses for foregrounding and past tenses for backgrounding, as is the case in many medieval texts and spoken narratives.5 Of course, it is fair to say that Free Indirect Discourse particularly flourished in 19th-c. literature because it was intimately linked to a specific genre, the so-called modern novel told in the past and in the third person with an impersonal narrative voice, as exemplified in Flaubert, Maupassant, Zola, etc. and their British counterparts, James, Lawrence, Woolf, etc. Surely the very ecclectic feel of this list of names vindicates my fourth point that Free Indirect Discourse plays many different functions and appears in very different strategies. Clearly, for example, Flaubert does not use Free Indirect Discourse for the same reasons as Zola.6 What makes their strategies very different is notably Flaubert’s use of Free Indirect Thoughts versus Zola’s predilection for Free Indirect Speech. This difference is consistent with Leech and Short (1981: 344–5) when they point out that the norm for representing speech is Direct Discourse and that, because it is not possible to observe the thoughts of others directly, the norm for representing thought is Indirect Discourse. Consequently, as shown in Figure 17, free indirect speech involves a move towards greater narrator control of the discourse and free indirect thought implies less control, i.e. a move in direction of the character’s actual language (no matter how fictional thought presentation is).7 In his prolific series Les Rougon-Macquart: Histoire naturelle et sociale d’une famille sous le second empire, Zola aims at colouring the narration with his

Figure 17. S&TP Continuum (adapted from Leech & Short 1981, combining Fig. 10.1 p. 324 and Fig. 10.3 p. 344)

 Part II, Chapter 3

characters’ vocabulary and cheek, rather than revealing their thoughts and perceptions. Thus, by using free indirect speech instead of direct speech, he seems actually to tighten his grip on his characters’ discourse while retaining the vivacity and realism peculiar to the direct mode (see ex. (4), (5) infra). Flaubert, however, appears to give away some of his control by ‘freeing’ the thoughts of his characters, and more so for Frédéric Moreau in L’Education Sentimentale than for Emma Bovary in Madame Bovary.8 Emma’s thoughts are often rendered in Free Indirect Discourse (1) but, as noted many scholars, it is sometimes difficult to differentiate between her actual romantic thoughts and Flaubert’s ironic rendition of her musings (2).9 In some cases, the sophisticated words and ideas used by Flaubert’s narrator seem impossible for Emma Bovary to conceive as such. In other cases, it is not clear whether the narrator is describing her state of mind or reporting what she thinks her feelings are. So it looks like the narrator/enunciator is somewhat overtaking the character/ enunciator. (1) Flaubert, Madame Bovary, Part 2, Chapter 10 Emma se repentit d’avoir quitté si brusquement le percepteur. Sans doute, il allait faire des conjectures défavorables. L’histoire de la nourrice était la pire excuse, tout le monde sachant bien à Yonville que la petite Bovary, depuis un an, était revenue chez ses parents. D’ailleurs, personne n’habitait aux environs; ce chemin ne conduisait qu’à la Huchette; Binet donc avait deviné d’où elle venait, et il ne se tairait pas, il bavarderait, c’était certain! Elle resta jusqu’au soir à se torturer l’esprit dans tous les projets de mensonges imaginables, et ayant sans cesse devant les yeux cet imbécile à carnassière. [Emma repented of having parted so unceremoniously from the collector. No doubt he would draw the most unfavourable inferences from the event. That story of hers about the nurse was the worst thing she could have thought of as an explanation, since everybody in Yonville knew perfectly well that the Bovary child had been back now with its parents for a whole year. Besides, no one lived on that side of the town. The path she had taken led only to La Huchette. Binet must have guessed, therefore, whence she had come, and would certainly not keep silent, nut would turn their meeting into matter for gossip. She spent the whole day till dusk tormenting herself in an endeavour to find a plausible lie, and ever before her eyes, she had the picture of that old fool with his game-bag.] (translation and punctuation by Gerard Hopkins, Oxford University Press, Oxford, 1981: 177–8)

Ninetieth and twentieth-century literature 

(2) Flaubert, Madame Bovary, Part 2, Chapter 9 Alors elle se rappela les héroïnes des livres qu’elle avait lus, et la légion lyrique de ces femmes adultères se mit à chanter dans sa mémoire avec des voix de soeurs qui la charmaient. Elle devenait elle-même comme une partie véritable de ces imaginations et réalisait la longue rêverie de sa jeunesse, en se considérant dans ce type d’amoureuse qu’elle avait tant envié. D’ailleurs, Emma éprouvait une satisfaction de vengeance. N’avait-elle pas assez souffert! Mais elle triomphait maintenant, et l’amour, si longtemps contenu, jaillissait tout entier avec des bouillonnements joyeux. Elle le savourait sans remords, sans inquiétude, sans trouble. [Then she called to mind the heroines of the books that she had read; the lytical legion of those adulterous ladies sang in her memory as sisters, enthralling her with the charm of their voices. She became, in her own person, a living part, as it were, of that imaginary world. She was realizing the long dream of her youth, seeing herself as one of those great lovers whom she had so much envied. But that was not her only feeling. In what happened she saw vengeance gratified. She had had more than her share of suffering! No, at last, she had triumphed, and love, so long repressed, leapt like a living fountain in her heart, bubbling upward in ecstatic freedom. She revelled in it without remorse, without disquiet, without anxiety.] (translation and punctuation by Gerard Hopkins, Oxford University Press, Oxford, 1981: 174)

In Madame Bovary and L’Education sentimentale, Flaubert focuses on specific individuals (Frédéric Moreau, Emma Bovary) and so does Maupassant in Bel Ami (Georges Duroy). As readers, we rarely leave the presence of the main character and/or see things from another character’s perspective.10 This means that most events (actions and speeches) are either seen through the narrator’s perspective or through the main character’s. We are also mainly given access to thoughts and attitudes that belong to that character. Either the narrator describes these thoughts (narrated thoughts and more generally psycho-narration, direct and indirect thoughts) or he lets us access them ‘freely’, i.e. without making them depend on a verbum sentiendi (free indirect thought and very rarely free direct thought). The first case is called ‘external focalisation from within’: the focalizer is external to the story but sees things from within the focalized object (i.e. the character). The second case is ‘internal focalisation’: the focalizer is the character and perceives his/her own thoughts or other character’s speech (but let’s not forget that the main locutor remains the narrator).11 In addition to free indirect thoughts, internal

 Part II, Chapter 3

focalisation can also be rendered through subjective descriptions, i.e. through represented perceptions.12 To give but one example, we can look at Chapter 2 in Part II of L’éducation sentimentale. Having unexpectedly inherited from a rich uncle, Frédéric invites his old friends for lunch at his newly-bought house, hoping to impress them. The friends talk about arts, politics, etc. Frédéric barely seems to say a word since all we are given is the friends’ discourses (often in free indirect speech) and Frederic’s psychological reactions. In fact, we are hearing (if not seeing) everything from Frederic’s point of view (what he says is secondary to the reactions of his friends) and in the end his frustration at their lack of admiration for his house and of respect towards him is made very clear (again through free indirect thoughts and free direct thoughts). The only part where we revert to the narrator’s point of view is when the narrative briefly speaks about the friends’ reactions once they have left Frederic before going back to Frédéric’s dissapointment. (3) Flaubert, L’éducation sentimentale, Part II, Chapter II. Deslaurier ne fit aucune observation. Il en fit dans la bibliothèque, qu’il appela une bibliothèque de petite fille. La plupart des littérateurs contemporains s’y trouvaient. Il fut impossible de parler de leurs ouvrages car Hussonet, immédiatement, critiquait leurs figures, leurs moeurs, leur costume, exaltant les esprits de quinzième ordre, dénigrant ceux du premier, et déplorant, bien entendu, la décadence moderne. Telle chansonnette de villageois contenait à elle-seule, plus de poésie que tous les lyriques du XIXe siècle, Balzac était surfait, Byron démoli, Hugo n’entendait rien au théâtre, etc. [. . .] Ils en arrivèrent à l’agacer tellement qu’il eut envie de les pousser dehors par les épaules. “Mais je deviens bête!” Et prenant Dussardier à l’écart, il lui demanda s’il pouvait le servir en quelque chose. [. . .] Enfin à cinq heures du soir, tous s’en allèrent; et ils marchaient les uns après les autres, sans parler, quand Dussardier se mit à dire que Frédéric les avait reçus parfaitement. Tous en convinrent. Hussonet déclara son déjeuner un peu trop lourd. Sénécal critiqua la futilité de son intérieur. Cisy pensait de même. Cela manquait de “cachet”, absolument. – “Moi je trouve,” dit Pellerin, “qu’il aurait bien pu me commander un cadeau.” Deslaurier se taisait, en tenant dans la poche de son pantalon ses billets de banque.

Ninetieth and twentieth-century literature

Frédéric était resté seul. Il pensait à ses amis, et sentait entre eux et lui comme un grand fossé plein d’ombre qui les séparait. Il leur avait tendu la main cependant, et ils n’avaient pas répondu à la franchise de son coeur. Il se rappela les mots de Pellerin et de Dussardier sur Arnoux. C’était une invention, une calomnie sans doute? Mais pourquoi? Et il aperçut Mme Arnoux ruinée, pleurant, vendant ses meubles. Cette idée le tourmenta toute la nuit. [Deslaurier said nothing. But he spoke up in the library, which he described as a little girl’s library. It contained most contemporary writers. It proved impossible to discuss their work, for Husonnet promptly began telling personal anecdotes about them, criticizing their faces, their habits, and their dress, extolling the fifteenth-rate, denigrating the firstclass minds, and, of course, deploring the decadence of modern literature. Such-and-such a folk-song had more poetry in it than all the lyrics of the nineteenth century; Balzac was overrated, Byron discredited, Hugo knew nothing about the theatre, and so on, and so forth. [. . .] They eventually succeeded in irritating him to such an extent that he felt tempted to seize them by the shoulders and push them outside. “But I am being silly,” he reflected. And taking Dussardier aside, he asked him whether he could be of any service to him. [. . .] Finally, at five in the evening, they all went off; and they were walking side by side, in silence, when Dussardier remarked that Frédéric had been a perfect host. Everybody agreed. Hussonet declared that the lunch had been a little too heavy. Sénécal criticized the triviality of the interior decoration. Cisy agreed with him. It was absolutely lacking in “tone”. “For my part,” said Pellerin, “I think he might at least have commissioned a picture from me.” Deslaurier said nothing, clutching the banknotes in his trouser-pocket. Frédéric was left on his own. Thinking about his friends, he felt as if there were a great dark gulf separating them from him. Yet he had held out his hand to them; it was they who had failed to respond to his generous gesture. He remembered what Pellerin and Dussardier had said about Arnoux. It was probably a slanderous fabrication. Or was it? He imagined Madame Arnoux ruined, in tears, selling her furniture. This idea tormented him all night.] (translation and punctuation by Robert Baldick, Penguin Books, Hardmondsworth, 1964: 146–7)



 Part II, Chapter 3

Zola, on the other hand, does not necessarily focus on one character and even when he does so, e.g. in Nana, his narrator does not particularly seem to stand aside for the focalizing character(s). In fact, there is little room for subjective descriptions seen from the point of view of a specific character.13 The ‘truth’ or verisimilitude of his technique resides in the colouring of the narrative through free indirect speech and thus in rendering how realistically characters speak (especially working class characters). It does not lie in the rendition of how characters actually think. This is probably why Zola prefers free indirect speech to free indirect thought. Indeed, while free indirect thought automatically gives us access to characters’ points of view, free indirect speech does not because speech can be perceived either by the character him/herself or by anybody else that can overhear it. Free indirect speech can thus be perceived by another character (internal focalisation, e.g. in Madame Bovary and L’éducation sentimentale) or by the narrator/focaliser (external focalisation) as is probably mostly the case in Zola. (4) Zola, Nana, Chapter 10 Tous protestèrent. Qu’allait-elle chercher là! on respectait sa famille. Mais elle continuait: – Si vous avez honte de ma famille, eh bien! laissez-moi, parce que je ne suis pas une de ces femmes qui renient leur père et leur mère... Il faut me prendre avec eux, entendez-vous! Ils la prenaient, ils acceptaient le papa, la maman, le passé, ce qu’elle voudrait. Les yeux sur la table, tous quatre maintenant se faisaient petits, tandis qu’elle les tenait sous ses anciennes savates boueuses de la rue de la Goutte-d’Or, avec l’emportement de sa toute-puissance. Et elle ne désarma pas encore: on aurait beau lui apporter des fortunes, lui bâtir des palais, elle regretterait toujours l’époque où elle croquait des pommes. Une blague, cet idiot d’argent! c’était fait pour les fournisseurs. Puis, son accès se termina dans un désir sentimental d’une vie simple, le coeur sur la main, au milieu d’une bonté universelle. [They all protested. What was she after now? They had every sort of respect for her family! But she went on: “If you’re ashamed of my family, you’ll please leave me because I’m not one of those women who deny their father and mother. You must take me and them together, d’you understand?” They took her as required; they accepted the dad, the mammy, the past; in fact, whatever she chose. With their eyes fixed on the tablecloth, the four now sat shrinking and insignificant while Nana, in a transport of omnipotence, trampled on them in the old muddy boots worn long since in the

Ninetieth and twentieth-century literature 

Rue Goutte-d’Or. She was determined not to lay down the cudgels just yet. It was all very fine to bring her fortunes, to build her palaces, she would never leave off regretting the time when she munched apples! Oh, what bosh that stupid thing money was! It was made for the tradespeople! Finally her outburst ended in a sentimentally-expressed desire for a simple, open-hearted existence, to be passed in an atmosphere of universal benevolence.] (translation and punctuation by Henri Peyre, Collier-MacMillan Ltd, London, 1962: 293)

Moreover, this trend towards un parler vrai (‘true speech’), pervades the narration itself so that the vocabulary used in the reported discourses is often found in the very discourse of the narrator, a technique often described as ‘contamination’ by scholars.14 (5) Zola, Nana, Chapter 13 Puis, le chambellan déshabillé, l’habit étalé par terre, elle lui cria de sauter, et il sauta; elle lui cria de cracher, et il cracha; elle lui cria de marcher sur l’or, sur les aigles, sur les décorations, et il marcha. Patatras! Il n’y avait plus rien, tout s’effondrait. Elle cassait un chambellan comme elle cassait un flacon ou un drageoir, et elle en faisait une ordure, un tas de boue au coin d’une borne. [Then, when once the chamberlain was undressed and his coat lay spread on the ground, she shrieked, “Jump!”, and he jumped; she shrieked “Spit!” and he spat. Whith a shriek she bade him walk on the gold, on the eagles, on the decorations and he walked on them. Hi tiddly hi ti! Nothing was left; everything was going to pieces. She smashed a chamberlain just as she smashed a flask of a comfit-box, and she made filth of him, reduced him to a heap of mud at a street corner.] (translation and punctuation by Henri Peyre, Collier-MacMillan Ltd, London, 1962: 388)15

In fact, we could characterize free indirect speech that is not focalised through the point of view of a character by saying that the focaliser is the narrator as ‘witness inside the story’. This hypothesis is not as far fetched as it sounds since both Zola and Flaubert do present certain descriptions as if the narrator (and the reader) were directly witnessing the story, although not participating to it.16 While Flaubert uses the present to describe Yonville-l’Abbaye (6), Zola opens and closes his novel Nana with scenes that have no main characters present (7), (8) and, as we have just seen, his narrator sometimes uses the same vocabulary as his characters.

 Part II, Chapter 3

(6) Flaubert, Madame Bovary, Part 2, Chapter 1 Yonville-l’Abbaye (ainsi nommé à cause d’une ancienne abbaye de Capucins dont les ruines n’existent même plus) est un bourg à huit lieues de Rouen, entre la route d’Abbeville et celle de Beauvais, au fond d’une vallée qu’arrose la Rieule, petite rivière qui se jette dans l’Andelle, après avoir fait tourner trois moulins vers son embouchure, et où il y a quelques truites, que les garçons, le dimanche, s’amusent à pêcher à la ligne. [. . .] Il n’y a plus ensuite rien à voir dans Yonville. La rue (la seule), longue d’une portée de fusil et bordée de quelques boutiques, s’arrête court au tournant de la route. Si on la laisse sur la droite et que l’on suive le bas de la côte Saint-Jean, bientôt on arrive au cimetière. [Yonville-l’Abbaye (so called from a former Capuchin Abbey of which not even the ruins now exist) is a market-town lying about eight leagues from Rouen, between the Abbeville and the Beauvais roads, in a valley watred by the Rieule, a small tributary of the Andelle. Before joining the larger stream it serves to turn three mills, where ponds hold a number of trout which provide amusement on Sundays for the local youths who fish for them with rod and line. [. . .] Apart from this, theree is nothing to be seen in Yonville. The street (the only one) is about a gunshot in length and lined with a few shops. It ends abruptedtly where the road makes a turn. Leaving it on one’s right, and continuing to the bottom of the Saint-Jean hill, one comes, almost at once, to the cemetery.] (translation and punctuation by Gerard Hopkins, Oxford University Press, Oxford, 1981: 75–6) (7) Zola, Nana, Chapter 1, First lines A neuf heures, la salle du théâtre des Variétés était encore vide. Quelques personnes, au balcon et à l’orchestre, attendaient, perdues parmi les fauteuils de velours grenat, dans le petit jour du lustre à demi-feux. Une ombre noyait la grande tache rouge du rideau; et pas un bruit ne venait de la scène, la rampe éteinte, les pupitres des musiciens débandés. [At nine o’clock in the evening the body of the house at the Théâtre des Variétés wa still all ut empty. A few ndividuals, it is true, were sitting quietly waiting in the balcony and stalls, but these were lost, as it were, among the ranges of seats whose coverings of cardinal velvet loomed in the subdued light of the dimly burning lustre. A shadow enveloped the great red splash of the curtain, and not a sound came from the stage, the unlitfoot-

Ninetieth and twentieth-century literature 

lights, the scattered desks of the orchestra.] (translation and punctuation by Henri Peyre, Collier-MacMillan Ltd, London, 1962: 17) (8) Zola, Nana, Chapter 14, Last lines [everybody has left the room where Nana’s dead body lays; outside people shout about the incoming FrancoPrussian war] La chambre était vide. Un grand souffle désespéré monta du boulevard et gonfla le rideau. – A Berlin! à Berlin! à Berlin! [The room was empty. A great despairing breath came up from the boulevard, and swelled the curtain. “A Berlin! à Berlin! à Berlin!” (translation and punctuation by Henri Peyre, Collier-MacMillan Ltd, London, 1962: 412)

Obviously not all 19th-c. prose fictions are impersonal third-person novels, far from it! First of all, even if they are in the third-person, many novels are not really impersonal and do include narratorial remarks about the story events and/or the outside world (this is the case even with Flaubert and Zola).17 Moreover, as we have seen earlier (Part 1, Chapter 1), novels from this period can use the first person to refer to the narrator making subjective comments and even addressing the reader (e.g. Balzac La Comédie Humaine, Hugo Quatre-vingttreize, Stendhal Le Rouge et le noir, etc.). (9) Stendhal, Le Rouge et le Noir, Chapter 27 Le lecteur voudra bien nous permettre de donner très peu de faits clairs et précis sur cette époque de la vie de Julien. Ce n’est pas qu’ils nous manquent, bien au contraire; mais peut-être ce qu’il vit au séminaire est-il trop noir pour le coloris modéré que l’on a cherché à conserver dans ces feuilles. [The reader will kindly excuse our giving but a few clear and precise details of this epoch in Julien’s life. Not that we lack them, far from it; but perhaps the life he lead in the Seminary is too black for the modest colouring which we have sought to preserve in these pages.] (translation by C.K. Scott Moncrieff, Modern Library, New York, 1984: 236) (10) Balzac, Le Père Goriot, Chapter 1 En quelque discrédit que soit tombé le mot drame par la manière abusive et tortionnaire dont il a été prodigué dans ces temps de douloureuse littérature, il est nécessaire de l’employer ici: non que cette histoire soit dramatique dans le sens vrai du mot; mais, l’oeuvre accomplie, peutêtre aura-t-on versé quelques larmes intra muros et extra. [. . .] Ainsi

 Part II, Chapter 3

ferez-vous, vous qui tenez ce livre d’une main blanche, vous qui vous enfoncez dans un moelleux fauteuil en vous disant: “Peut-être ceci vat-il m’amuser.” Après avoir lu les secrètes infortunes du père Goriot, vous dînerez avec appétit en mettant votre insensibilité sur le compte de l’auteur, en le taxant d’exagération, en l’accusant de poésie. Ah! sachez-le: ce drame n’est ni une fiction, ni un roman. All is true, il est si véritable, que chacun peut en reconnaître les éléments chez soi, dans son coeur peutêtre. [That word drama has been somewhat discredited of late; it has been overworked and twisted to strange uses in these days of dolorous literature; but it must do service again here, not because this story is dramatic in the restricted sense of the word, but because some tears may perhaps be shed intra et extra muros before it is over. [. . .] And you, too, will do the like; you who with this book in your white hand will sink back among the cushions of your arm-chair, and say to yourself, ‘Perhaps this may amuse me.’ You will read the story of Old Goriot’s secret woes, and, dining thereafter with an unspoiled appetite, will lay the blame of your insensibility upon the writer, and accuse him of exaggeration, of writing romances. Ah! once for all, this drama is neither a fiction nor a romance! All is true, so true that every one can discern the elements of the tragedy in his own house, perhaps in his own heart.] (translation by Ellen Marriage, Mc Millan & Co, New York, 1896: 1)

It would certainly not be accurate to say that Free Indirect Discourse appears only in so-called ‘impersonal’ novels such as Flaubert’s and Zola’s. While Free Indirect Discourses are indeed less frequent in an earlier text such as Balzac’s Le Père Goriot (1843), they are reporting both speech and thought and are not different technically from these found in later texts. In that text, most of the events are seen through the perspective of the omniscient narrator and only very rarely through the point of view of Rastignac, the main character. The occurrence of free indirect thought in (11) is thus more of an exception than the rule. (11) Balzac, Le Père Goriot, Chapter 1 Ce jeune ambitieux connaissait la noblesse immaculée de ces âmes ensevelies dans la solitude, il savait quelles peines il causerait à ses deux soeurs, et aussi quelles seraient leurs joies avec quel plaisir elles s’entretiendraient en secret de ce frère bien-aimé, au fond du clos. Sa conscience se dressa lumineuse, et les lui montra comptant en secret leur petit trésor: il les vit, déployant le génie malicieux des jeunes filles pour

Ninetieth and twentieth-century literature 

lui envoyer incognito cet argent, essayant une première tromperie pour être sublimes. “Le coeur d’une soeur est un diamant de pureté, un abîme de tendresse!” se dit-il. Il avait honte d’avoir écrit. Combien seraient puissants leurs voeux, combien pur serait l’élan de leurs âmes vers le ciel! Avec quelle volupté ne se sacrifieraient-elles pas! De quelle douleur serait atteinte sa mère, si elle ne pouvait envoyer toute la somme! Ces beaux sentiments, ces effroyables sacrifices allaient lui servir d’échelon pour arriver à Delphine de Nucingen. Quelques larmes, derniers grains d’encens jetés sur l’autel sacré de la famille, lui sortirent des yeux. [He knew the spotless nobleness of the lives buried away in the lonely manor house; he knew what trouble and what joy his request would cause his sisters, and how happy they would be as they talked at the bottom of the orchard of that dear brother of theirs in Paris. Visions rose before his eyes; a sudden strong light revealed his sisters secretly counting over their little store, devising some girlish stratagem by which the money could be sent to him incognito, essaying, for the first time in their lives, a piece of deceit that reached the sublime in its unselfishness. “A sister’s heart is a diamond for purity, a deep sea of tenderness!” he said to himself. He felt ashamed of those letters. What power there must be in the petitions put up by such hearts; how pure the fervour that bears their souls to Heaven in prayer! What exquisite joy they would find in self-sacrifice! What a pang for his mother’s heart if she could not send him all that he asked for! And this noble affection, these sacrifices made at such terrible cost, were to serve as the ladder by which he meant to climb to Delphine de Nucingen. A few tears, like the last grains of incense flung upon the sacred altar fire of the hearth, fell from his eyes. (translation by Ellen Marriage, Mc Millan & Co, New York, 1896: 92–3)

Another earlier text such as Stendhal Le Rouge et Le Noir (1830) contains many examples of Free Indirect Discourses reporting the thoughts of Julien, the main character as well these of his lovers, Madame de Rênal and Mathilde de la Mole; the three characters are at times internal focalisers of the story. (12) Stendhal, Le Rouge et le Noir, Chapter V Mme de Rênal regardait les grosses larmes qui s’étaient arrêtées sur les joues si pâles d’abord et maintenant si roses de ce jeune paysan. Bientôt elle se mit à rire, avec toute la gaieté folle d’une jeune fille, elle se moquait d’elle-même et ne pouvait se figurer tout son bonheur. Quoi, c’était là ce précepteur qu’elle s’était figuré comme un prêtre sale et mal vêtu, qui viendrait gronder et fouetter ses enfants! – Quoi, Monsieur, lui dit-elle enfin, vous savez le latin?

 Part II, Chapter 3

[Madame de Rênal looked at the large tears which lingered on the cheeks (so pallid at first and now so rosy) of this young peasant. Presently she burst out laughing with all the wild hilarity of a girl; she was laughing at herself, and trying in vain to realise the full extent of her happiness. So this was the tutor whom she had imagined as an unwashed and ill-dressed priest, who was coming to scold and whip her children! “Why, Sir”, she said to him at length, “do you know Latin?”] (translation by C.K. Scott Moncrieff, Modern Library, New York, 1984: 40)

In addition to Free Indirect Discourse, this text even offers rare examples of free direct thought: (13) Stendhal, Le Rouge et le Noir, Chapter VII Mme de Rênal tomba sur une chaise, presque évanouie de douleur. Il va humilier Julien, et par ma faute! Elle eut horreur de son mari, et se cacha la figure avec les mains. Elle se promit bien de ne jamais faire de confidences. [Madame de Rênal sank down on a chair, almost fainting with grief. He is going to humiliate Julien, and it is my fault! She felt a horror of her husband, and hid her face in her hands. She promised herself that she would never confide anything in him again.] (translation by C.K. Scott Moncrieff, Modern Library, New York, 1984: 56)

Many 19th-c. first-person narratives also use Free Indirect Discourses (e.g Maupassant Le Horla, Proust A la Recherche du temps perdu, etc.). When telling a story about him/herself, the first-person narrator is thus opposing a narrating-self in the present versus an experiencing-self in the past that participated in (some of) the story events. As a character, the experiencing-self has more potential to be the focaliser of the story than the other characters.18 The je (‘I’) can thus refer to an external focaliser (the narrating-self in the present: Direct and Indirect Discourse) or an internal focaliser (the experiencing-self in the past: Free Indirect Discourse). (14) Maupassant, Le Horla (second version in the first person, 1886)19 Ayant enfin reconquis ma raison, j’eus soif de nouveau; j’allumai une bougie et j’allai vers la table où était posée ma carafe. Je la soulevai en la penchant sur mon verre ; rien ne coula. – Elle était vide ! Elle était vide complètement ! D’abord, je n’y compris rien ; puis, tout à coup, je ressentis une émotion si terrible, que je dus m’asseoir, ou plutôt, que je tombai sur une chaise ! puis, je me redressai d’un saut pour regarder autour de moi ! puis je me rassis, éperdu d’étonnement et de peur, devant le cristal transparent ! Je le contemplais avec des yeux fixes, cherchant à deviner.

Ninetieth and twentieth-century literature 

Mes mains tremblaient ! On avait donc bu cette eau ? Qui ? Moi ? moi, sans doute ? Ce ne pouvait être que moi ? Alors ; j’étais somnambule, je vivais, sans le savoir, de cette double vie mystérieuse qui fait douter s’il y a deux êtres en nous, ou si un être étranger, inconnaissable et invisible, anime, par moments, quand notre âme est engourdie, notre corps captif qui obéit à cet autre, comme à nous-mêmes, plus qu’à nous-mêmes. Ah ! qui comprendra mon angoisse abominable ? Qui comprendra l’émotion d’un homme, sain d’esprit, bien éveillé, plein de raison et qui regarde épouvanté, à travers le verre d’une carafe, un peu d’eau disparue pendant qu’il a dormi ! Et je restai là jusqu’au jour, sans oser regagner mon lit. [When I finally came to my senses, I realized that I felt thirsty again. I lit a candle and went over to the table on which my water decanter was standing. I lifted it up and tilted it over a glass. Nothing came out. . . It was empty! It was absolutely empty! At first I simply didn’t understand. Then, suddenly, such a dreadful sensation came over me that I had to sit down – or rather, I collapsed into a chair. Then I jumped up again, looking all round the room. And then I sat down once again, gazing in terrified astonishment at the empty vessel before me. I stared at it, trying to puzzle out just what had happened – and my hands were trembling! So somebody had drunk this water? Who? Had I drunk it? Surely it was me – it could only have been me. . . Then I must be a sleepwalker, I must be leading that mysterious double life which makes us wonder whether there are two beings inhabiting one body – or whether there is some alien, undetected, invisible being which occasionally takes over when our spirit is quiescent, forcing our body to obey its orders, just as we might give orders to our body – only this being does it more effectively. Oh, who will ever understand the overwhelming anguish I felt? Who can be expected to understand the feelings of a man who is sane, wide awake, with his mind working logically – and yet he sits here staring in terror through the glass sides of a decanter, looking for the water which has disappeared during his sleep? I sat there until daylight came, without daring to go back to bed.] (The Dark Side of Guy de Maupassant, selection and translation by Arnold Kellett, Carroll & Graf, New York, 1989: 7)

In summary, 19th-c. novels allow for a distinction between the narrative voice as that of the main locutor and the characters’ voices as secondary locutors (Direct Discourse) or only as enunciators ((Free) Indirect Discourse). Since all narratives are in the past, the use of Free Indirect Discourse most often entails a transposition of tenses, if not of person, thereby maintaining the preeminence

 Part II, Chapter 3

of the narrative voice, which absorbs the characters’ discourses.20 In the case of free indirect thought especially, it also involves a switching from the narrator as an external focaliser to the character(s) as possible internal focaliser(s). Since all narrative-types contain some or many Free Indirect Discourses, it would be difficult to associate this category only to so-called impersonal narratives. The narrator of third-person novels, albeit sometimes impersonal, is very much present and even omnipotent in his/her text (because of his/her omniscience). It is very easy to conflate him/her with the author/enunciator of the text (see Part 1, Chapter 1). In first-person novels, on the other hand, there is a distinction between the narrator qua narrator in the present (narrating-self, external focaliser by default) and the first-person character in the past (experiencingself, possible internal focaliser). There is however already room for a certain ambiguity between the narrative voice and the voices of the characters. The distinction between Free Indirect Discourse and Narrated Discourse or even narration (e.g. represented perception) is not always easy to make.21 Moreover, like other scholars before me, I showed that the narrator could ‘invade’ his character’s thoughts (e.g. Flaubert in Madame Bovary) or that his own discourse could be contaminated by his characters’ language (Zola). As will be demonstrated in the next section, subsequent evolutions in the 20th-c. amplified the potential for ambiguity between narrator and characters’ discourses, challenging the primacy of the first over the latter.

. Freeing reported discourse in twentieth-century literature Experimentations with S&TP strategies (especially with Free Direct and Free Indirect Discourses) as well as with tenses were essential in the evolution of the 20th-c. novel. Many writers – implicitly or explicitly – wanted to break with the traditional unity of the narrative voice and therefore with the homogeneity of specific markers such as tenses and reported discourses, as well as with the straight classification into third-person and first-person narratives or with the dominance of the narrator/focaliser over the characters/ focalisers. In the case of tenses, it meant relinquishing the canonic use of the past tenses (simple past and imperfect) to refer to the story events.22 Some authors chose to use the present tense only or to alternate between the present tense and the past tenses from paragraph to paragraph, thereby keeping a certain level of overall homogeneity. Others went further and mixed present tenses (present and present perfect) and past tenses (simple past and imperfect) within the same chunks of text, in a way that is reminiscent of oral language (15).23

Ninetieth and twentieth-century literature 

(15) Gide, Les Faux-Monnayeurs, p. 36 Bernard regardait tout droit devant lui, dans le noir. Il haussa les épaules. “Tu trouves que j’aurais dû demander la permission, hein?” Le ton de sa voix était si froidement ironique qu’Olivier sentit aussitôt l’absurdité de sa question. Il n’a pas encore compris que Bernard est parti “pour de bon”; il croit qu’il n’a l’intention de découcher que ce seul soir et ne s’explique pas bien le motif de cette équipée. Il l’interroge: – Quand Bernard compte-t-il rentrer? – Jamais! – Le jour se fait dans l’esprit d’Olivier. Il a grand souci de se montrer à la hauteur des circonstances et ne se laisser surprendre par rien; pourtant un: “c’est énorme, ce que tu fais là” lui échappe. [Bernard looked straight in front of him into the dark. He shrugged his shoulders. “You think I ought to have asked their leave, eh?” His tone of voice was so coldly ironical that Olivier at once felt the absurdity of his question. He has not yet grasped that Bernard has left “for good”; he thinks that he only means to sleep out this one night and is a little perplexed as to the reason of this escapade. He questions him: – When does Bernard plan to go home? – Never! Light begins to dawn on Olivier. He is very anxious to be equal to the occasion and not be surprised at anything; nevertheless an exclamation breaks from him: “what a tremendous decision!” (adapted from translation by Dorothy Bussy, The Modern Library, New York, 1955: 25–6)

As a consequence, there was a certain blurring between the time of the narration and the time of the story events, that could lead to ambiguities in terms of point of view, notably when dealing with a first-person narrative (see infra). Moreover, these types of alternations in tenses also enabled authors to play on the continuum and ambiguities allowed by Free Direct Discourse and Free Indirect Discourse in the present, thereby challenging the neat repartition into categories (Direct, Indirect and Free Indirect Discourses) or between types (speech versus thought/attitude) and further calling into question the clear embedding of the characters’ voices within the narrator’s discourse. As noted in Part I (Chapter 1, Section 3), Free Direct Discourse presents non transposed discourse without verbum dicendi/ sentiendi and without typographic marks (quotation marks, colon, dash, italics, etc.).24 Thus, in my classification, there is a continuum going from more marked Direct Discourse (verbum dicendi/sentiendi and typographic marks) to less marked Direct Discourse (typographic marks only) to Free Direct Discourse (no verbum dicendi/sentiendi and no typographic marks).25 Free Direct Discourse

 Part II, Chapter 3

and Free Indirect Discourse are both characterised by their lack of verbum dicendi/sentiendi and of typographic marks but they are distinguished, at least in theory, by the fact that the former does not transpose grammatical persons and tenses while the latter does. This point however must be qualified: – In third-person narration, Free Indirect Discourse involves a transposition from first person to third person but not necessarily of tenses if the co-text uses the present tense. In that case, an utterance that did not ‘originally’ contain a first person can be interpreted either as a Free Indirect Discourse in the present or as a Free Direct Discourse (italics + bold).26 (16) Queneau, Zazie dans le métro, p. 11 Gabriel regarde dans le lointain; elles, elles doivent être à la traîne, les femmes c’est toujours à la traîne; mais non, une mouflette surgit qui l’interpelle: – Chsuis Zazie, jparie que tu es mon tonton Gabriel. [Gabriel looks in the distance; they’re bound to be bringing up the rear, women always do bring up the rear; no, tough, a little chick materialises and addresses him: ‘I’m Zazie, I bet you’re myyuncle Gabriel.’] (translation by Barbara Wright, John Calder, New York, 1982: 13)

– In first-person narration, Free Indirect Discourse does not entail a transposition from first person to third person (but sometimes of second person to first person). Therefore the distinction between Free Direct Discourse and Free Indirect Discourse is only relevant when the narrative is in the past.27 (17) Céline, Voyage au bout de la nuit, p. 37. [Bardamu, the first-person narrator, describes his fear of death as a soldier alone in an emptied village ravaged by the war where the ennemy might come back at any time] Je discernais très bien la route à ce moment et puis posés sur les côtés, sur le limon du sol, les grands carrés et volumes des maisons, aux murs blanchis de lune, comme de gros morceaux de glace inégaux, tout silence, en blocs pâles. Serait-ce ici la fin de tout? Combien y passerais-je de temps dans cette solitude après qu’ils m’auraient fait mon affaire? Avant d’en finir? Et dans quel fossé? Le long duquel de ces murs? Il m’achèveraient peut-être? D’un coup de couteau? Ils arrachaient parfois les mains, yeux et le reste. . . On racontait bien des choses à ce propos et des pas drôles! Qui sait! . . . Un pas du cheval. . . Encore un autre . . . suffiraient? Ces bêtes trottent comme deux hommes en soulier de fer collés ensemble, avec un drôle de pas de gymnastique tout désuni.

Ninetieth and twentieth-century literature 

Mon coeur au chaud, ce lapin, derrière sa petite grille des côtes, agité, blotti, stupide. Quand on se jette d’un trait du haut de la Tour Eiffel, on doit sentir des choses comme ça. On voudrait se rattraper dans l’espace. Il garda pour moi secrète sa menace, ce village, mais toutefois pas entièrement. [I could see the road clearly just then and, plunked down on the mud beside it, big squares and cubes of houses, their walls whitened by the moonlight, like big unequal blocks of ice, pale and silent. Would this be the end of it all? How much time would I spend in this desolation after they’d done for me? Before it was all over? In what ditch? Beside one of these walls? Would they come and finish me off? With a knife? Sometimes they gouged out your eyes, cut off your hands, and so on. . . There were all sorts of rumors on the subject, and they were no joke! A hoofbeat. . . Another. . . would be enough!. . . This beast makes a noise like two men with iron boots fastened together, running with a jerky, uneven step. . . My heart, a rabbit, warm in its little rib cage, fearful, cowering, bewildered. . . You must feel pretty much the same way when you jump off the top of the Eiffel Tower. You’d like to stop yourself in mid-air. That village kept its menace secret, but not entirely.] (translation by Ralph Manheim, New Directions, New York, 1983: 29–30)

This means that there is also a certain continuum going from Free Indirect Discourse in the past (italic in (18)) to Free Indirect Discourse in the present with persons transposed (italic in (19)) to FID/FDD in the present without need for transposition (bold and italic in (15) and (19)) to Free Direct Discourse (were lack of transposition is explicit, bold in (18)). (18) Aragon, Les cloches de Bâle, p. 56. Madame Melazzi qui avait été à Florence en 1890, (n’allez pas vous imaginer que je sois italienne, Melazzi pourrait faire croire, mais c’est simplement comme ça) coinça Judith près des cabines et lui dit que sa fille qui allait venir avait aussi des goûts artistiques, et serait très heureuse d’avoir une compagne de son âge. Elle était pour l’instant en Angleterre, au pair, jusqu’au 15 août, chez un pasteur. Elle faisait des progrès incroyables en anglais, oui. Elle parlait à tous les policemen. Des gens charmants, les policemen. Mais ça nous écarte de la sculpture. Est-ce que vous aimez Rodin? Moi je trouve que c’est une horreur. Judith aimait Rodin. [Madame Melazzi who had been to Florence in 1890 (don’t go imagining

 Part II, Chapter 3

I’m Italian, the name Melazzi might make you think so, but that’s just a coincidence) cornered Judith one day near the bath cabins and told her that her daughter who was coming also had artistic tastes, and would be very happy to have a companion of her own age. For the moment she was in England boarding with a pastor’s family until the fifteenth of August. Yes she was making remarkable progress with her English. She spoke to all the policemen. Charming persons, policemen. But we’re getting away from the subject of sculpture. Do you like Rodin? I think he’s horrible. Judith liked Rodin.] (translation by Haakon M. Chevalier, Harcourt, Brace & Co, New York, 1936: 9) (19) Queneau, Zazie dans le métro, p. 48–9 – Je pourrais essayer? qu’elle demande. Le bazardeur est souflé: elle se croit chez Fior, cette petite connasse. Il fait un joli sourire à pleines dents pour dire: – Pas la peine. Regardez-moi çui-la. Il déploie le vêtement et le suspend devant elle. Zazie fait la moue. Elle aurait voulu essayer. – Isra pas trop grand? qu’elle demande encore. – Regardez! Il vous ira pas plus bas que le mollet et regardez-moi ça encore s’il est pas étroit, tout juste si vous pourrez entrer dedans mademoiselle, quoique vous soyez bien mince, c’est pas pour dire. Zazie en a la gorge sèche. Des bloudjinnzes. Comme ça. Pour sa première sortie parisienne. Ça serait rien chouette. [‘Could I try them on?’ she asks. The bazaarist is staggered: the little clotface seems to think she is at Fior’s. He gives a pretty smile with all his teeth and says: ‘No need to bother. Just have a look at this.’ He unfolds the garment and holds it up in front of her. Zazie pouts. She’d have liked to try them on. ‘Won’t they be too big?’ she asks. ‘Look! They won’t come down further than the calf, and just have a look how narrow they are, tll be a near thing if you can get into them at all, mademoiselle, though you are very slim, to say the least.’ Zazie’s throat is quite dry. Blewgenes. Oy oy oy. For her first Parisian outing. That’d be super-smashing.] (translation by Barbara Wright, John Calder, New York, 1982: 54)

Free Direct Discourse is often presented as ‘interior monologue’ by literary scholars and therefore linked to so-called ‘stream of consciousness’ techniques.28 However this category can report speech as well as thought/attitudes

Ninetieth and twentieth-century literature 

and, like Free Indirect Discourse, the difference or the blurring between the two might be very important for specific S&TP strategies in a given text (see infra). Rather than being a category, interior monologue is a technique that uses direct or free direct thought to give us access to the discourse of a consciousness that is not addressing any outside interlocutor but is keeping to itself.29 Moreover, it is crucial to keep in mind Cohn’s distinction between 1) a narrative technique for presenting a character’s consciousness by direct quotation of his thoughts in a surrounding narrative context; and 2) a narrative genre constituted in its entirety by the silent self-communion of a fictional mind. Though the technique and the genre share some psychological implications and stylistic features, their narrative presentations are entirely different: the first is mediated (quoted explicitly or implicitly) by a narrating voice that refers to the monologist by third-person pronoun in the surrounding text; the second, unmediated, and apparently self-generated, constitutes an autonomous first-person form, which it would be best to regard as a variant – or better, a limit-case – of first-person narration. (Cohn 1978: 15, her emphasis)

On the one hand, Cohn notes that texts such as Joyce’s Ulysses (1922), which are usually given as an example of stream of consciousness literature, actually only include what she calls ‘quoted interior monologue’ (her definition 1), i.e. the character’s inner thoughts are surrounded by a narrative context in the third person.30 On the other hand, she stresses the rarity of ‘autonomous interior monologues’ (her definition 2), such as Dujardin’s Les Lauriers sont coupés (1887), which are entirely in the first person.31 In the rest of this chapter, I will examine free direct speech as well as free direct thought and I will envisage interior monologue only as a narrative technique but not as a narrative genre, to use Cohn’s terms.32 As will be shown in my analyses, 20th-c. writers combined changes in tenses and S&TP to create innovative narratives where the concept of ‘narrator’ (or ‘narrative voice’) took a very different meaning than in the novels studied in the first part of this chapter. Obviously my aim is not to present an in-depth literary study of every text of the corpus but rather to give a few examples of new narratological approaches in the 20th-c. and of their links to specific S&TP strategies. Although Gide had written several narratives before Les Faux-monnayeurs (1925), it is the first and only text that he actually called a roman (‘novel’). During the preparation and the actual composition of the text, he kept a diary describing its different stages as well as his own reflections on what a novel should be (later published as Le Journal des Faux-monnayeurs). Some of these reflections are also mirrored in the text either through Edouard, one of the main characters who is also a writer, or through the narrative voice. In parallel

 Part II, Chapter 3

to his desire to include in his novel ‘everything that life offers [him] and teaches [him]’, Gide explicitly rejected the concepts of impersonal novel and single plot that were typical of the romans réalistes or naturalistes (e.g. Balzac, Flaubert, Zola, Maupassant, etc.).33 One of the consequences of this negation is the importance of the characters’ voices as well as the multiplication of ‘atypical’ narratorial interventions, which leads to a certain polyphony in the text. The narrator uses reflexive formula to present his own speech or thought and asks questions or wonders about his characters actions, sometimes criticising them. (20) Gide, Les Faux-Monnayeurs, p. 253–4 Le voyageur, parvenu au haut de la colline, s’assied et regarde avant de reprendre sa marche, à présent déclinante; il cherche à distinguer où le conduit enfin ce chemin sinueux qu’il a pris, qui lui semble se perdre dans l’ombre et, car le soir tombe, dans la nuit. Ainsi l’auteur imprévoyant s’arrête un instant, reprend souffle, et se demande avec inquiétude où va le mener son récit. [. . .] Ce qui ne me plaît pas chez Edouard, ce sont les raisons qu’il se donne. Pourquoi cherche-t-il à se persuader à présent, qu’il conspire encore au bien de Boris? Mentir aux autres, passe encore; mais à soi-même! Le torrent qui noie un enfant prétend-il lui porter à boire?. . . Je ne nie pas qu’il y ait, de par le monde, des actions nobles, généreuses et même désintéressées; je dis seulement que derrière le plus beau motif souvent se cache un diable habile et qui sait tirer gain de ce qu’on croyait lui ravir. Profitons de ce temps d’été qui disperse nos personnages, pour les examiner à loisir. Aussi bien sommes-nous à ce point médian de notre histoire où son allure se ralentit et semble prendre un élan neuf pour bientôt précipiter son cours. [The traveller, having reached the top of the hill, sits down and looks about him before continuing his journey, which henceforward lies all downhill. He seeks to distinguish in the darkness, for night is falling, where the winding path he has chosen is leading him. So the undiscerning author stops awhile to regain his breath, and wonders with some anxiety where his tale will take him. [. . .] What I dislike about Edouard are the reasons he gives himself. Why does he try and persuade himself that he is conspiring for Boris’s good? Lying to the others is one thing but to oneself! Does the torrent which drowns a child pretend that it is giving him drink? . . . I do not deny that there

Ninetieth and twentieth-century literature 

are actions in the world that are noble, generous and even disinterested; I only say that there often lies hidden behind the good motive a devil who is clever enough to find his profit in the very thing one thought one was wresting from him. Let us make use of this summer season which disperses our characters to examine them at leisure. And besides, we have reached that middle point of our story, when its pace seems to slacken, in order to gather a new impetus and rush on again with swifter speed to its end.] (adapted from translation by Dorothy Bussy, The Modern Library, New York, 1955: 219–20)

In some comments, the narrator seems to be a simple witness inside the narrative, sometimes lacking certain pieces of information. In other comments, he appears omniscient because he knows much more than the characters or he reveals that a character lies to another. In any case, he presents himself not as directing the story (creating it) but rather as observing it, often in a fairly ironic way.34 Indeed, in his diary of the text, Gide notes that: The poor novelist constructs his characters; he controls them and makes them speak. The true novelist listens to them and watches them function; he eavesdrops on them even before he knows them. It is only according to what he hears them say that he begins to understand who they are. I have put “watches them function” second – because for me, speech tells me more than action. [. . .] I wrote the first dialogue between Olivier and Bernard and the scenes between Passavant and Vincent without having the slightest idea what I was going to do with those characters, or even who they were. They thrust themselves upon me, despite me. (Journal des Faux-monnayeurs, 27 May 1924, translation by Justin O’Brien, The Modern Library, New York, 1955: 444)

Characters’ speeches and thoughts are thus crucial to Gide’s very concept of what a novel should be. They occupy the majority of the text, either as Direct Discourses and Free Direct Discourses (mostly speeches in dialogues) or as Free Indirect Discourses (mostly thoughts and attitudes, accompanied by Narrated Discourses). Dialogues between characters are very frequent and sometimes take up most of a chapter, with only brief interruptions to describe the reactions of the characters. The first utterance is often introduced by a verbum dicendi but the rest of them are mostly marked with a dash only, thus rendering the vivacity of the characters’ conversations. Reported thoughts are as important in the narrative as reported speech but there seems to be a crucial difference between the thoughts of the main characters (Bernard, Olivier, Edouard,

 Part II, Chapter 3

Laura), which are presented in Narrated and Free Indirect Discourses, and these of lesser characters, which are mostly reported in Narrated Discourse. Since free indirect and direct thoughts are the privileged way to relay internal focalisation, it appears that only these main characters are deemed to be suitable focalisers (with a few exceptions, eg. (21) infra). Obviously, due to the lack of verba dicendi/sentiendi and of typographical marks, Free Direct Discourses and Free Indirect Discourses give an impression of immediacy that reinforces the impression that the narrator is not controlling the characters but merely observing them. . . or observing them observing themselves. In (21) below, the first dialogue between Monsieur Profitendieu and his youngest son could be perceived by the narrator as external focaliser. Note that the immediacy is expressed through the lack of verba dicendi but not of typographical marks. As for the paragraph presenting the dialogue between Monsieur and Madame Profitendieu, it could be interpreted as perceived by Monsieur Profitendieu as internal focaliser: he is thus the one who is surprised by the bell, who expresses his impatience with the adverb enfin and who registers the second dialogue in a mix of Free Direct Discourse and Free Indirect Discourse in the present. However, since the reader of Les Faux-Monnayeurs is used to the narrator’s comments in the present, this whole part could also be rendering the narrator’s perceptions and comments. (21) Gide, Les Faux-Monnayeurs, p. 29 Monsieur Profitendieu prend le cahier, mais il souffre trop. Il repousse doucement l’enfant: “Plus tard. On va dîner. Charles est-il rentré? – Il est descendu à son cabinet. (C’est au rez-de-chaussée que l’avocat reçoit sa clientèle). – Va lui dire qu’il vienne me trouver. Va vite.” Un coup de sonnette! Madame Profitendieu rentre enfin, elle s’excuse d’être en retard; elle a dû faire beaucoup de visites. Elle s’attriste de trouver son mari souffrant. Que peut-on faire pour lui? C’est vrai qu’il a très mauvaise mine. – il ne pourra manger. Qu’on se mette à table sans lui. Mais qu’après le repas elle vienne le retrouver avec les enfants. – Bernard? – Ah! C’est vrai; son ami . . . tu sais bien, celui avec qui il prenait des répétitions de mathématiques, est venu l’enmener dîner. Profitendieu se sentait mieux. Il avait d’abord eu peur d’être trop souffrant pour pouvoir parler. [Monsieur Profitendieu takes the copy-book, but he is in too much pain. He gently pushes the child away.

Ninetieth and twentieth-century literature 

– Later on. It’s just dinner time. Has Charles come in? – He went down to his consulting room. (the barristers receives his clients in a room on the ground floor.) – Go and tell him I want to speak to him. Quick!” A ring at the door bell! Madame Profitendieu at last! She apologizes for being late. She had a great many visits to pay. She is sorry to see her husband so poorly. What can be done for him? He certainly looks very unwell. – He won’t be able to eat anything. They must sit down without him, but after dinner will she come to his study with the children? – Bernard? – Oh, yes; his friend . . . you know, the one he is reading mathematics with, came and took him out to dinner. Profitendieu felt better. He had at first been afraid he would be too ill to speak.] (adapted from translation by Dorothy Bussy, The Modern Library, New York, 1955: 19–20).

The difficulty of differentiating between the narrator’s comments and the characters’ discourse does not exist only at the level of focalisation (who perceives what, e.g. the bell ringing in (21)) but also at the level of discourse (who says/thinks what). In (22) below, since the first paragraph clearly contains comments by the narrator on Olivier’s weakness, what comes a bit further in the text is not easy to interpret unambiguously. We can ask who is using adverbs such as sans doute, peut-être, aussi, who is asking the question and who is making the judgements indicated within boxes. In other words, we hesitate between interpreting some utterances as the narrator’s comments or as Olivier’s Free Indirect Discourses in the imperfect or even in the present (c’est sa faute aussi). In some cases, the context might help: the parallelism between il en avait été de même and il en serait toujours ainsi, could link these two utterances within a continuous Free Indirect Discourse. (22) Gide, Les Faux-Monnayeurs, p. 303–4 Olivier ne tenait pas particulièrement à ce qu’il venait d’exprimer tout à l’heure. Il avait cédé au besoin de briller, et de citer, comme négligemment, une phrase qu’il estimait de nature à épater son ami. Si maintenant celui-ci le prenait sur ce ton, il ne lui restait plus qu’à battre en retraite. Sa grande faiblesse venait de ceci qu’il avait beaucoup plus besoin de l’affection de Bernard que Bernard n’avait besoin de la sienne [. . .] Cette phrase cingla Olivier droit au coeur. Bernard ne l’avait sans doute pas dite dans une intention hostile mais comment la prendre autrement? Olivier se tut. Un gouffre, entre Bernard et lui se creusait. Il chercha

 Part II, Chapter 3

quelles questions, d’un bord à l’autre de ce gouffre, il allait pouvoir jeter, qui rétabliraient le contact. Il cherchait sans espoir. “Ne comprendil donc pas ma détresse?” se disait-il; et sa détresse s’aggravait. Il n’eut peut-être pas à refouler de larmes, mais il se disait qu’il y avait de quoi pleurer. C’est sa faute aussi: ce revoir lui paraîtrait moins triste, s’il s’en était promis moins de joie. Lorsque deux mois auparavant, il s’était empressé à la rencontre d’Edouard, il en avait été de même. Il en serait toujours ainsi, se disait-il. Il eût voulu plaquer Bernard, s’en aller n’importe où, oublier Passavant, Edouard. . . Une rencontre inopinée soudain rompit le triste cours de sa pensée. [Olivier had not particularly meant what he had said just before. He had yielded to his desire to be brilliant and to bring out, as it were carelessly, a sentence which he thought would tremendously impress his friend. But now that Bernard took it in this way, there was nothing for him to do but to beat a retreat. But his great weakness lay in the fact that he was in much more need of Bernard’s affection than Bernard of his. [. . .] These words cut straight at Olivier’s heart. Bernard had certainly not said them with a hostile intention, but how else could they be taken? Olivier was silent. Between Bernard and him a gulf was yawning. He tried to think of some question to fling from one side of the gulf to the other which might reestablish the contact. He tried without much hope of succeeding. “Doesn’t he understand how miserable I am?” he said to himself, and he grew more miserable still. He did not have to force back his tears, perhaps, but he said to himself that it was enough to make anyone cry. It is his own fault, too; his meeting with Bernard would seem less sad if he had looked forward to it with less joy. When two months before he had hurried off to meet Edouard, it had been the same thing. It would always be the same thing, he said to himself. He wanted to chuck Bernard, to go anywhere, to forget Passavant, Edouard. . . An unexpected meeting suddenly interrupted these melancholy thoughts.] (adapted from translation by Dorothy Bussy, The Modern Library, New York, 1955: 263–5)

While these ambiguities give the reader considerable freedom to interpret the text, they also foster a feeling of distrust and even of frustration vis-a vis the narrative voice, which is in stark contrast to the relationship found in realistic novels. As shown above, the reader’s suspicion might also be caused by the various postures taken by the narrative voice, omniscient at times and feigning ignorance at others. This might even allow us to wonder whether there is only

Ninetieth and twentieth-century literature

one narrative voice, an hypothesis reinforced by the fact that the characters themselves are also narrators since they tell or retell parts of the story with a certain amount of deformations.35 The narrative itself is interspersed with excerpts from Edouard’s diary in which he speaks about his life but also about a novel he is writing called . . . Les Faux-Monnayeurs. We also have access to letters written by the characters as well as their telling or re-telling of certain story events (all in Direct Discourses). In conclusion, Gide presents his reader with a multitude of discourses (and of points of view) that must be interpreted and assessed in order to grasp the ‘true story’, if there is one. . .36 Indeed Les FauxMonnayeurs is a novel that decomposes reality and denounces the counterfeit of reality offered by most novelists to present a reality that can be abstracted out of the multiplicity.37 Voyage au bout de la nuit (1932) is Céline’s first novel and its most conspicuous feature is probably the ‘colloquial’ language used by the first-person narrator and character in the past, Ferdinand Bardamu. In fact, the style used is a mixture of non standard features (colloquialism, slang, specific morphosyntax, tense alternation) and literary features (high lexicon, use of simple past and subjunctive imperfect, metaphors, etc.).38 With regard to S&TP, it is reflected by the frequent use of the ‘spoken’ syntactic form qu’il dit instead of ditil as inquit formula and the alternation of verba dicendi/sentiendi in the present (e.g. ajoute, fait, réponds in (23)) with a few in the past, i.e. in the present perfect (e.g. ai proposé in (23)) or in the simple past (e.g. fit signe in (23)). (23) Céline, Voyage au bout de la nuit, p. 484 “Veux-tu qu’on parte?” que je lui ai proposé. Il me regarde alors comme surpris. Cependant cela me semblait la décision la plus sage et la plus indiquée. “Vous en avez donc pas suffisamment comme ça de la fête?” que j’ajoute. Il me fit signe alors qu’il faudrait mieux que je demande d’abord l’avis à Madelon. Je voulais bien moi lui demander son avis à Madelon, mais je trouvais pas ça très malin. “Mais, on va l’emmener avec nous, Madelon! Que je finis par dire. – L’emmener? Où ça donc que tu veux l’emmener? Qu’il fait. – Mais à Vigny, voyons!” que je réponds. [“Let’s go home,” I suggested to Robinson. He gives me a look of surprise. But it still struck me as the wisest most sensible course. “Haven’t you had enough?” I add. He made a sign meaning that I should ask Madelon how she felt about it. I had no objection to asking Madelon, but I didn’t think it was a very bright think to do. “We’ll take Madelon with us,” I finally said.



 Part II, Chapter 3

“Take her?” he asks. “Where do you want to take her?” “To Vigny, of course,” I say.] (adapted from a translation by Ralph Manheim, New Directions, New York, 1983: 417)

It is worth noting however that despite being marked as ‘popular French’, expressions such as qu’il dit are rarely used in a real corpus of spoken French like mine and do not appear in clusters either, contrary to (23) above.39 This betrays a certain artificiality in a style that overuses the most manifest features of spoken French in order to convey a colloquial style in writing.40 This novel is not only innovative in terms of style but also in terms of its topic and of the role plaid by the je narrator. It mixes the actions of the experiencing-self in the past – the story of Bardamu as an anti-hero and perpetual loser – and general thoughts about human fate made by the narrating-self in the present – Bardamu as a bitter and fatalistic philosopher. The comments of the narrating-self can refer to his activity qua narrator telling the story (que je raconte in (24), (25)) or as person of the world judging past events or uttering generalities about life in the present. In both cases, these interventions can be marked with reflexive verba dicendi or sentiendi, often as Narrated Discourses. The narrator also addresses his readers (je vous le dis in (24)) or includes them in his reflections (ne l’oublions jamais in (24)). (24) Céline, Voyage au bout de la nuit, p. 212 Le courage ne consiste pas à pardonner, on pardonne toujours bien de trop! Et cela ne sert à rien, la preuve est faite. C’est après tous les êtres humains, au dernier rang qu’on a mis la Bonne! C’est pas pour rien. NE L’OUBLIONS JAMAIS. Il faudra endormir pour de vrai un soir, les gens heureux, pendant qu’ils dormiront, JE VOUS LE DIS et en finir avec eux et avec leur bonheur une fois pour toutes. Le lendemain on en parlera plus de leur bonheur et on sera devenu libres d’être malheureux tant qu’on voudra en même temps que la “Bonne”. Mais que JE RACONTE: Elle allait et venait donc à travers la pièce Lola, un peu déshabillée et son corps me paraissait tout de même encore bien désirable. Un corps luxueux c’est toujours un viol possible, une effraction précieuse, directe, intime dans le vif de la richesse, du luxe, et sans reprise à craindre. [Courage doesn’t consist in forgiveness, we always forgive too much. And it does no good, that’s a known fact. Why was the Housemaid put in the last row, after all other human beings? Not for nothing, LET’S NEVER FORGET IT. One night while they’re asleep, all happy people, I AM TELLING YOU, ought to be put to sleep for real, that’ll be the end of them and their happiness once and for all. The next day they’ll all be forgotten,

Ninetieth and twentieth-century literature 

and we’ll be free to be as unhappy as we please, along with the “Housemaid”. But LET ME TELL THE STORY: Lola was pacing the floor without many clothes on, and in spite of everything her body still struck me as very desirable. Where there’s a luxurious body there’s always a possibility of rape, of a direct, violent breaking and entering into the heart of wealth and luxury, with no fear of having to return the loot.] (adapted from a translation by Ralph Manheim, New Directions, New York, 1983: 183) (25) Céline, Voyage au bout de la nuit, p. 487 C’est pas commode de rester une heure sans rien se dire, face à face, à se regarder, surtout quand il fait sombre et qu’on est un peu inquiet les uns à cause des autres. Toutefois, si nous étions restés comme ça, vexé, mais chacun pour soi, rien ne serait arrivé. C’est encore aujourd’hui mon opinion quand J’Y REPENSE. Somme toute, c’est à cause de moi qu’on s’est reparlé et que la dispute a repris alors tout de suite et de plus belle. Avec les mots, on ne se méfie jamais suffisamment, ils ont l’air de rien les mots, pas l’air de dangers bien sûr, plutôt de petits vents, de petits sons de bouche, ni chauds, ni froids, et facilement repris dès qu’ils arrivent par l’oreille par l’énorme ennui mou du cerveau. On ne se méfie pas d’eux des mots et le malheur arrive. [. . .] Donc on ne se méfie jamais assez des mots, C’EST MA CONCLUSION. Mais d’abord, QUE JE RACONTE LES CHOSES. . .: le taxi suivait doucement son tram à cause des réparations. . . “Rron. . . et rron” qu’il faisait. Un caniveau chaque cent mètres. . . Seulement cela ne me suffisait pas à moi le tram devant. Toujours bavard et enfantin, je m’impatientais. . . Ça ne m’était pas supportable cette petite allure d’enterrement et cette indécision partout. . . Je me dépêchais de casser le silence pour tâcher de savoir ce qu’il pouvait bien avoir dans le derrière. [It’s no fun sitting face to face and eye to eye without saying a word, especially when it’s dark and everyone’s kind of suspicious of everyone. Even so, if we had stayed like that, nettled, but keeping each to himself, nothing would have happened. That’s still my opinion when I THINK of it today. It was my doing, I have to admit, that we started talking again and the quarrel resumed worse than ever. We’re never suspicious enough of words, they look like nothing much, not at all dangerous, just little puffs of air, little sounds the mouth makes, neither hot nor cold and easily absorbed, once they reach the ear, by the vast gray boredom of the brain. We’re not suspicious enough of words, and calamity strikes.

 Part II, Chapter 3

[. . .] I therefore conclude that we’re never suspicious enough of words. But now LET ME TELL YOU what happened: The taxi was slowly following a streetcar, because the road was being repaired. . . “Hum. . . hum” went the motor. A pothole every hundred yards. . . But the streetcar up ahead of us wasn’t enough for me. Always childish and talkative, I was impatient. The snail’s pace and the indecision all around me were more than I could bear. . . So quick, I shattered the silence like a piggy bank to see what might be inside.] (translation by Ralph Manheim, New Directions, New York, 1983: 419–20)

The focalisation may be external: the narrating-self recounts and judges the events from his own perspective as in (25) above. It can also be internal: the experiencing-self perceives events as they are happening to him and we are given his thoughts as they occur in his mind at the time of the events, via Free Indirect Discourse in the past and Free Direct/Indirect Discourse in the present (see (17) above). However, it can be fairly difficult to differentiate between the two types of focalisation. On the one hand, as I have shown in section one of this chapter, there can be ambiguities between narration in the past (e.g. Narrated Discourse referring to the character’s thoughts and feelings) and Free Indirect Discourse in the past (presenting thoughts and feelings as they are registering on the character’s mind).41 On the other hand, more ambiguity is added when the present tense is being used since we have to chose between Free Direct Discourse reporting what the character felt in the past (internal focalisation) or narration in the present making comments that are relevant both for the past and the present (see boxes in example (24) above and (26) below as well as Note 27). (26) Céline, Voyage au bout de la nuit, p. 14–5 Il y a bien des façons d’être condamné à mort. Ah combien n’aurais-je pas donné à ce moment-là pour être en prison au lieu d’être ici, moi crétin! Pour avoir, par exemple, quand c’était si facile, prévoyant, volé quelque chose, quelque part, quand il en était temps encore. On ne pense à rien! De la prison on en sort vivant, pas de la guerre. Tout le reste, c’est des mots. Si seulement j’avais encore eu le temps, mais je ne l’avais plus! Il n’y avait plus rien à voler! Comme il ferait bon dans une petite prison pépère, que je me disais, où les balles ne passent pas! Ne passent jamais! J’en connaissais une toute prête, au soleil, au chaud! Dans un rêve, celle de Saint-Germain précisément, si proche de la forêt, je la connaissais bien, je passais souvent par là, autrefois. Comme on change! J’étais un enfant alors, elle me faisais peur la prison. C’est que je ne connaissais pas encore les hommes. Je ne croirai

Ninetieth and twentieth-century literature 

plus jamais à ce qu’ils disent, à ce qu’ils pensent. C’est des hommes et d’eux seulement qu’il faut avoir peur, toujours. Combien de temps faudrait-il qu’il dure leur délire, pour qu’ils s’arrêtent épuisés, enfin, ces monstres? Combien de temps un abcès comme celui-ci peut-il bien durer? Des mois? Des années? Combien? Peut-être jusqu’à la mort de tout le monde, de tous les fous? Jusqu’au dernier? Et puisque les événements prenaient ce tour désespéré je me décidais à risquer le tout pour le tout, à tenter la dernière démarche, la suprême, essayer, moi, tout seul, d’arrêter la guerre! Au moins dans ce coin-là où j’étais. [There are different ways of being condemned to death. Oh! What wouldn’t I have given to be in jail instead of here! What a fool I’d been! If only I had had a little foresight and stolen something or other when it would have been so easy and there was still time. I never think of anything. You come out of jail alive, out of a war you don’t! The rest is blarney. If only I’d had time, but I didn’t. There was nothing left to steal. How pleasant it would be in a cosy little jailhouse, I said to myself, where the bullets can not get in. Where they never get in! I knew of one that was ready and waiting, all sunny and warm! I saw it in my dreams, the jailhouse of Saint-Germain to be exact, right near the forest. I knew it well, I’d often passed that way. How a man changes! I was a child in those days, and that jail frightened me. Because I didn’t know what men are like. Never again will I believe what they say or what they think. Men are the thing to be afraid of, always, men and nothing else. How much longer would this madness have to go on before these monsters dropped with exhaustion? How long can a convulsion like this last? Months? Years? How many? Maybe till everyone’s dead? All these lunatics? Every last one of them? And seeing events were taking such a desperate turn, I decided to stake everything on one throw, to make one last try, to see if I couldn’t stop the war, just me, all by myself! At least in this one spot where I happened to be.] (adapted from translation by Ralph Manheim, New Directions, New York, 1983: 9–11)

The complexity of reported thoughts in the first person is not equated by reported speech in the first and third person Indeed, while the former plays on the continuum of Free Indirect and Free Direct Discourses, the latter is mostly expressed through Direct and Indirect Discourses (as well as Narrated Discourses of course) but rarely in Free Indirect Discourses (see (23) above). The relative simplicity of reported speech might be linked to the narrator’s view that spoken words seem straightforward but are overused, empty and ultimately dangerous. This standpoint is expressed in (25) above but also in the begin-

 Part II, Chapter 3

ning and the end of the novel since Bardamu presents his story as starting from a conversation (27) and ends the narrative with a call for silence (28).42 (27) Céline, Voyage au bout de la nuit, p. 1 [first ensentences] Ça a débuté comme ça. Moi j’avais jamais rien dit. Rien. C’est Arthur Ganate qui m’a fait parler. [Here is how it started. I’d never said a word. Not one word. It was Arthur Ganate that made me speak up.] (translation by Ralph Manheim, New Directions, New York, 1983: 3) (28) Céline, Voyage au bout de la nuit, p. 14–5 De loin, le remorqueur a sifflé; son appel a passé le pont, encore une arche, une autre, l’écluse, un autre pont, loin, plus loin. . . Il appelait vers lui toutes les péniches du fleuve toutes, et la ville entière, et le ciel et la campagne, et nous, tout qu’il emmenait, la Seine aussi, tout, qu’on n’en parle plus. [Far in the distance, the tugboat whistled; its call passed the bridge, one more arch, then another, the lock, another bridge, farther and farther. . . It was summoning all the barges on the river, every last one, and the whole city and the sky and the countryside, and ourselves, to carry everything away, the Seine too, everything, so that nothing could be said anymore.] (adapted from translation by Ralph Manheim, New Directions, New York, 1983: 435)

The narrator illustrates the emptiness and repetitiveness of speech by many references to unnamed general locutors (on ‘one’, les hommes ‘men’, ils ‘they’ in (26)) and by the use of the iterative imperfect for verba dicendi (il disait, ‘he would say’). He also takes a very critical view of his own speeches in the past, underscoring his own cowardness, his subjection to the discourses of the others and his inability to stop speaking (see (25) above). However, the narrator’s need for silence is contrasted by the abundance of reported thoughts and narrative interventions that comment on the smallest events of the narrative. On the one hand, we are thus presented with a rejection of the discourses of the others (including Bardamu as a character in the past) and on the other hand we are subjected to the narrator’s constant reflections that deconstruct reality and the discourses it is made of. Les Cloches de Bâle (1934) is the poet Aragon’s first novel and the first book of a cycle entitled Le Monde Réel. The book is divided in four parts of uneven length, each of which devoted to a specific character: Diane (90 p.), Catherine (142 p.), Victor (136 p.) and Clara. (22 p.).43 I will focus my attention on the first part called Diane because while there is almost no mixing of tenses

Ninetieth and twentieth-century literature 

and no intervention of the narrator in this part of the book, what makes it original is the way characters are presented and reported discourses are used. Diane de Nettencourt, the main character, is a young woman who uses men to advance in society. She eventually marries Georges Brunel, an usurer posing as a businessman, and successfully leaves him when he is found out, without taking any blame for his deeds even though she knew about his activities. Despite her essential role, we rarely have access to what Diane really thinks or says (except in the very beginning) but mostly know about her through what other people say or think. On the one hand, we have access to what is said by people relatively close to her, especially through the conversations between her mother (Christiane de Nettencourt) and her mother’s friends (29). On the other hand, we learn about her through hearsay, newspapers clipping and conjectures (semble-t-il in (29) il était question que, on suppose que in (30)). (29) Aragon, Les Cloches de Bâle, p. 64 Diane et Georges disparurent trois semaines, et à leur retour, Mme de Nettencourt annonça que le mariage avait eu lieu en Irlande. Pourquoi en Irlande! Elle l’expliquait assez confusément, que les lois irlandaises permettaient de faire cela beaucoup plus vite, qu’en France il y avait des obstacles. Enfin ce point d’histoire resta toujours assez obscur, semble-t-il. Mais les Brunel prirent un immense appartement avec atelier dans le quartier de la porte Maillot, au-dessus du chemin de fer, tout près de la maison de M. Raymond Poincaré avec lequel Georges avait eu un entretien à son retour d’Irlande, pour des questions qui mettaient en jeu les intérêts de la France, assura Christiane au colonel Dorsch qui était venu la voir dans l’ancien appartement de Diane, repris par les Nettencourt. [Diane and Georges disappeared for three weeks, and on their return Madame de Nettencourt announced that they had been married in Ireland. Why in Ireland? She explained with some confusion that the Irish laws enabled them to get it over with much more quickly, that in France there were obstacles. At any rate, this point of history, it seems , always remained somewhat obscure. But the Brunels took an immense apartment with a studio in the Porte Maillot district, above the railroad, right close to the house of Monsieur Raymond Poincaré with whom Georges had had an interview on his return from Ireland. An interview regarding matters which involved the interests of France, Christiane assured Colonel Dorsch who had come to see her in Diane’s former apartment, taken over by the Nettencourts.] (translation by Haakon M. Chevalier, Harcourt, Brace & Co, New York, 1936: 16)

 Part II, Chapter 3

(30) Aragon, Les Cloches de Bâle, p. 65 Puis le général Dorsch, à une fête de charité au ministère, fit obtenir un comptoir à Mme Brunel, la belle Mme Brunel. On disait même, à l’ÉtatMajor, que le général ah! ah! Le général se fâchait quand cela lui revenait aux oreilles: “Vous plaisantez, je suis un ami de sa mère, Mme de Nettencourt, un très beau château en Touraine!” C’est la voiture de Mme Brunel qui eut le prix à la bataille des fleurs de Cannes cette année-là. Le général Dorsch fut photographié à côté d’elle aux Drags, et la photo fut reproduite dans Femina à côté de celle de Maurice Barrès parlant à une princesse de la maison de Belgique. Il était question que Robert entrât dans les ambassades. Les Brunel déménagèrent rue d’Offémont, où ils eurent un petit hôtel avec valet de pied, et une voiture au mois. La vaisselle de toilette de Diane étant en or, était exposée dans le hall. On suppose que Diane devait se laver dans la porcelaine de son cabinet de toilette. [Then General Dorsch, at a charity bazaar at the ministry, obtained a concession booth for Madame Brunel, the beautiful Madame Brunel. It was even said at General Staff headquarters, that the general ah! ah! The General got angry whenever this reached his ears: “You are joking – I am a friend of her mother’s, Madame de Nettencourt, a very fine château in Touraine!” It was Madame Brunel’s car that won the prize at the Battle of the Flowers in Cannes that year. General Dorsch was photographed beside her at the Drags, and the picture was reproduced in Fémina next to that of Maurice Barrès speaking to a princess of the house of Belgium. There was talk of Robert’s entering the diplomatic service. The Brunels moved to rue d’Offémont, where they took a small townhouse, with a footman, and a car by the month. As Diane’s toilet-ware was of gold, it was displayed in the hall. It is assumed that she used the porcelain set in her dressing-room for her ablutions.] (adapted from the translation by Haakon M. Chevalier, Harcourt, Brace & Co, New York, 1936: 17–8)

The image of Diane built through these multiple discourses is essentially positive, which is not surprising given the subtle way she seems to manipulate opinion. Indeed, in (31) infra, we see how a certain event (the suicide of a young man owing money to Diane’s husband) is presented to the world: Diane first speaks to her mother and although we do not know whether Diane tells her the truth or not, we see how the mother gives a completely revised story of the event to her friend in a conscious effort to have that version dissemi-

Ninetieth and twentieth-century literature 

nated. Each person on the discourse chain has her own interest in sharing and disseminating the piece of information, even Mme de Nettencourt’s friend. (31) Aragon, Les Cloches de Bâle, pp. 105, 115 Ce soir-là, Mme de Nettencourt et Edouard dînaient rue d’Offémont. Diane parla longuement avec sa mère. En rentrant chez eux, Edouard, relativement animé, demanda à Christiane: “Alors, qu’est-ce que Diane t’a dit? – Diane est une sainte, se borna à répondre Mme de Nettencourt, mais il faut que je voie Mme Blin.” [. . .] Là-dessus Mme Blin, avec le cynisme d’un journaliste qui va au fait, se mit à interroger d’une façon serrée sa partenaire, et elle lui arracha la vérité, toute la vérité. Elle sut que Pierre de Sabran était un cerveau brûlé. Bon. Qu’il faisait à Diane une cour à laquelle celle-ci avait dû mettre le holà. Sans doute qu’il s’était jeté dans des dissipations pour l’oublier. Ensuite qu’il entretenait cette petite de l’Opéra-Comique, comment s’appelle-t-elle donc, qui chante dans Lakmé? On sait, on sait. Que la chanteuse lui était en réalité parfaitement indifférente. Ah, ah. Qu’il harcelait Diane, qu’elle l’avait repoussé, qu’il s’était tué chez elle après l’en avoir menacée, elle ne l’avait pas cru. Tout ceci absolument entre nous, Georges préfère laisser dire n’importe quoi sur son compte à permettre qu’on mêle même accidentellement le nom de Diane à ce suicide. Mme Blin ne regrettait pas les petits fours. Ah voilà, ah c’était donc ça. Elle promit de tenir compagnie à Diane. Surtout pas un mot à M. Blin. Vous voulez rire! Le vendredi soir et le samedi matin, Mme Blin se trouva parler au téléphone avec une foule de gens. [That evening, Madame de Nettencourt and Edouard dined rue d’Offémont. Diane had a long talk with her mother. On the way home, Edouard comparatively animated asked Christiane: “Well, what did Diane tell you? – Diane is a saint, was all Madame de Nettencourt would say, but I have to see Madame Blin.” [. . .] Whereupon Madame Blin, with the cynicism of a journalist who thrusts aside non-essentials, began relentlessly to ply her partner with questions, and she wrenched the truth from her, the whole truth. She found out that Pierre de Sabran was a hothead. Good. That he was paying such violent court to Diane that she had to put a stop to it. No doubt he had plunged into dissipation to forget her. And then that he was keeping that little thing of the Opera Comique, what is her name, who sings in Lakmé? We know,

 Part II, Chapter 3

we know. That he didn’t give a snap for her really. Ah, ah. That he kept pestering Diane, that she had turned him down, that he had shot himself at her house after having threatened to, she had not believed him. All this is strictly between you and me; Georges prefers to let people say whatever they want to about him rather than have Diane’s name connected, even accidentally, with the suicide. Madame Blin did not regret the petits fours. Well, well, so that was it. She promised to come and keep Diane company. Above all, not a word to Monsieur Blin. Are you joking? Friday evening and Saturday morning Madame Blin happened to speak on the phone with a great number of people.] (adapted from the translation by Haakon M. Chevalier, Harcourt, Brace & Co, New York, 1936: 52, 61–2)

In the above dialogue, the alternation between Indirect Discourse (underlined) and Free Direct/Indirect Discourse (in bold and italics) helps to distinguish between Mme de Nettencourt’s discourse and that of Mme Blin but it also builds an ironic crescendo that culminates with two Free Direct Discourses (in bold), saying exactly the opposite of what they mean since both speakers want to spread the gossip. It is also interesting to note that while the first five occurrences of Indirect Discourses clearly report Mme de Nettencourt’s speech, they are related through a verbum sentiendi whose grammatical subject is Mme Blin (elle sut que, ‘she found out that’). Moreover, it is not clear whether Mme Blin’s Free Direct/Indirect Discourses (in bold and italics) express her speech or her thoughts, except for the last Free Direct Discourse (Vous voulez rire!). The interplay between different types and categories of S&TP thus conveys vivacity, ambiguity and a high dose of irony. This multiplication of discourses challenges the status of the narrator as the story seems literally told by others through various voices, specific or not. In certain cases, the use of Free Direct Discourse causes hesitation as to which voice we are actually dealing with (e.g. Pourquoi en Irlande! in (29) above). In other cases, conjectures with the impersonal pronouns on or il (semble-t-il in (29) il était question que, on suppose que in (30)) give the impression that there is an ‘on-narrator’ witnessing the whole story from inside and not always able to present the reader with all information. This is reinforced by the fact that the narrator appears unwilling (or unable?) to access the original discourses uttered by the main protagonists (Diane or her husband) but relies instead on what is told by secondary or even unnamed locutors. There are only two cases (p. 103–5, 131–6) where dialogues in Direct Discourse between Diane, her husband and her lover reveal what is really happening in the story. It is

Ninetieth and twentieth-century literature 

thus somewhat difficult to identify a single narrative voice that would also be an external focaliser, as in the case in traditional novels. Sometimes, however, the story seems clearly internally perceived by a specific character, for example when the narrative focuses on Guy, Diane’s 5 yearold son. Some of Diane’s actions are seen through his perspective as are other events or discourses in the story, like the long incoherent ravings of his governess, Mme de Lérins. In (32) infra, Guy is clearly the internal focaliser: Mme de Lérins’ words are reported in Free Indirect Discourses and Free Direct Discourses filtered through his mind and Guy’s own reflections (or rather his incomprehension) are added. (32) Aragon, Les Cloches de Bâle, p. 69 Guy eut pour institutrice une dame qui avait eu des revers. Veuve d’officier, parente d’un ministre du Second Empire, Mme de Lérins. [. . .] Enfin M. de Münchbourg avait aidé Mme de Lérins dans ses placements. Aidé dans ses placements, ha, ha, ha! Mme de Lérins se levait et marchait dans la chambre d’étude, plus Marie-Antoinette que jamais. Et le plus horrible dans l’affaire, cela avait été l’attitude de Mme de Münchbourg. Lui un monte-en-l’air, rien de plus. Mais elle! Je ne dirai pas ce que c’était. Il y avait aussi une malle que les Münchbourg avaient le toupet de réclamer par la suite. La Münchbourg avait parlé d’envoyer chercher l’huissier, un comble! Aussi Mme de Lérins, tant pis pour ce qu’on dirait! avait-elle loué ensuite à un officier, M. de Fleury. Très bien, M. de Fleury, très distingué. Lieutenant. Un bel avenir. Ah plus de femmes, non plus de femmes! Ce sont des chipies, parlez-moi des hommes. Ici nouveau mystère. Mme de Lérins avait beaucoup pleuré. M. de Fleury lui devait de l’argent. Il avait reçu chez elle des gens qu’il n’aurait pas dû y recevoir. Probablement des bandits, pensait Guy. Enfin il fallait trancher le mot, ce lieutenant n’était qu’un simple souteneur. Guy ne savait pas ce que cela voulait dire au juste mais il s’imaginait. [Guy got a governess, a lady who had suffered reverses. An officer’s widow, related to a minister of the second Empire, Madame de Lérins. [. . .] On top of which Monsieur de Münchbourg had helped Madame de Lérins with her investments. Helped her with her investments, ha, ha, ha, Madame de Lérins would get up and pace the study-room, more like MarieAntoinette than ever. And the most horrible part of it had been Madame de Münchbourg’s attitude. He a fly-by-night, nothing more. But she! I won’t

 Part II, Chapter 3

say what she was. There was also a trunk which the Münchbourgs had had the effrontery to come back later and claim. The Münchbourg woman had talked of calling the bailiff. That was the last straw! So Madame de Lérins had next rented her room to an officer, Monsieur de Fleury. If people talked, so much the worse! Monsieur de Fleury was very nice, very distinguished. A lieutenant, a fine future. Ah, no more women. No, no more women! They are nothing but cats, give me men. A new mystery in this. Madame de Lérins wept profusely. Monsieur de Fleury owed her money. He had invited people to the house whom he had no right to have around. Probably bandits, thought Guy. She was forced to speak frankly, the lieutenant was nothing but a pimp. Guy did not know exactly what that meant, but he used his imagination.] (adapted from the translation by Haakon M. Chevalier, Harcourt, Brace & Co, New York, 1936: 20–23)

The above example offers another illustration of a subtle continuum between Free Indirect Discourse in the past (with pluperfect, e.g. avait aidé, avait été, and some imperfect, e.g. devait, fallait), hesitation between Free Indirect Discourse in the present or Free Direct Discourse (e.g. Lui un monte-en-l’air, rien de plus. Mais elle!) and finally the crescendo to obvious Free Direct Discourse (e.g. Je ne dirai pas ce que c’était). The use of Free Indirect and Free Direct Discourse allows for the repeated use of parataxis (no coordination nor subordination between sentences) and ellipsis (no verb), which can be neatly paralleled in the narration (e.g. ici nouveau mystère). Also of importance here is the repeated use of reported thoughts in contrast to the rest of the narrative where speech is prevalent. Another clear example of internal focalisation is the episode where Jacques de Sabran, the brother of the young man who committed suicide hears Diane’s version of the death through her own mouth. This part mixes free indirect thoughts reporting Jacques’ reflections with free indirect speeches and direct speeches reproducing the conversation between Jacques and Diane. The fact that the dialogue is entirely presented as it registers on Jacques’ consciousness creates intense irony since the reader already knows that Diane is lying. (33) Aragon, Les Cloches de Bâle, p. 111 Le capitaine de Sabran était bouleversé. Tout s’expliquait. Et lui comme une brute. . . Bien entendu que Pierre ne pouvait venir demander de l’argent au mari d’une femme dont il était à ce point épris, un Sabran! Diane dans ses larmes dit quelque chose qu’il ne comprit point. Elle releva

Ninetieth and twentieth-century literature 

son beau visage baigné et le regarda bien en face. “Oui, dit-elle, c’est une abomination que d’avoir résisté à cet enfant. Je devais comprendre ce que cela signifiait pour lui. Je suis une meurtrière. Jugez-moi comme telle.” Il la rassurait. Voyons, elle ne pouvait pas se tenir pour responsable, elle aimait son mari, personne n’était forcé. [Captain de Sabran was stunned. Everything became clear. And he like a brute. . . Of course Pierre could not have come to ask money from the husband of a woman whom he loved to that extent, a Sabran! In the midst of her tears, Diane said something which he did not understand. She raised her beautiful face bathed in tears and looked at him squarely. “Yes, she said, it’s a crime to have resisted the boy. I should have understood what it meant to him. I am a murderess. You can regard me as such.” He tried to reassure her. She could not really consider herself responsible. She loved her husband. Nobody was forced to.] (adapted from the translation by Haakon M. Chevalier, Harcourt, Brace & Co, New York, 1936: 58)

The ‘monde réel’ announced by Aragon’s cycle title is thus presented through a multiplication, a polyphony or collage of discourses and points of view that illustrates the point he makes in his preface.44 Pourquoi la décision réaliste, la conscience du réel fondent-elles la nécessité du roman? Tout roman n’est pas réaliste. Mais tout roman fait appel en la croyance du monde tel qu’il est, même pour s’y opposer. Le roman, et peut-être à le maudire y avait-il cohérence à qui n’en voulait accepter les conséquences et le bien fondé, le roman est une machine inventée par l’homme pour l’apréhension du réel dans sa complexité. (Aragon, Preface of Les Cloches de Bâle, p. 12) [Why do the realist decision, the conscience of real found the necessity for the novel? Not every novel is realist. But every novel summons the belief of the world as it is, even if it is in order to oppose it. The novel, and maybe, cursing it was coherent for those who did not want to accept its consequences and validity, is a machine invented by man to apprehend the real in its complexity.]

The play on the alternation and the continuum of S&TP categories and types adds more ambiguity to this multi-layered reality, as well as vivacity and irony. Here the questions ‘who speaks?’ and ‘who sees’ (Genette 1972) are more rele-

 Part II, Chapter 3

vant than ever but they are most difficult to answer as the reader learns to cope with an unreliable narrator.45 Zazie dans le métro (1959) is a short novel in the third person that recounts the whimsical adventures of a twelve-year old girl who comes to Paris to spend two days with her uncle Gabriel. In this book, as in other ones, Queneau resolutely experimented with the language of the novel, writing in colloquial popular French, which he called néo-français and saw as overtaking standard written French. This is reflected in the vocabulary used (colloquialism, slang, wordplay), the phonetic spelling of some words and expressions and the morpho-syntax typical of spoken French.46 This oralisation of the language appears both in the discourse of the narrator and that of the characters, which contributes to blur the disctinction between the two. Oralisation also shows in the form and function of S&TP. From a formal point of view, like Céline, Queneau often uses the ‘spoken’ syntactic form qu’il dit instead of dit-il as inquit formula (34) and he alternates verba dicendi/sentiendi in the present with a few in the simple past (35). (34) Queneau, Zazie dans le métro, p. 33 [. . .] il lui crie – Eh petite, où vas-tu comme ça? Zazie ne lui répond pas, elle se contente d’allonger le pas. Turandot gravit les marches de son escalier. – Eh petite, qu’il insiste et qu’il continue à crier. [[. . .] he calls to her: ‘Hey, kid, where d’you think you’re going?’ Zazie doesn’t answer, she simply walks a bit faster. Turandot climbs up his steps: ‘Hey, kid,’ he calls again and goes on calling.] (adapted from translation by Barbara Wright, John Calder, New York, 1982: 13) (35) Queneau, Zazie dans le métro, p. 84 Gabriel se tourna vers lui et le regarda dans la cornée des oeils: – T’en es sûr, qu’il lui demande, t’en es tellement sûr que ça? Charles ne répondit pas. – De quoi que t’es absolument sûr? qu’il insista Gabriel. – J’ai trouvé, hurle alors Charles, ce truc-là, c’est pas les invalides, c’est le Sacré-Coeur. [Gabriel turned in his direction and looked him in the cornea of the eyes: ‘Are you sure about that,’ he asks him, ‘are you really so sure as all that?’ Charles didn’t answer.

Ninetieth and twentieth-century literature 

‘What is there that you’re absolutely sure about?’ Gabriel insisted. ‘I’ve got it,’ Charles then roars, ‘that thing there, tisn’t the Invalides it’s the Sacré-Coeur.’] (translation by Barbara Wright, John Calder, New York, 1982: 93)

As mentioned above, expressions such as qu’il dit are infrequent in real spoken French and, moreover, other verbs such as insister and continuer à crier would not be used and certainly not coordinated. Also, the use of simple past is now very rare in French and would be replaced by a present perfect. The result is thus a humorous mix of pseudo-spoken French with literary French (vocabulary and simple past). Another formal feature is the frequent absence of verbum dicendi in dialogues, which makes them more vivid but also forces the reader to rely on the context to know who is speaking. Moreover the absence of typographic marks, except sometimes for the dash or the double colon, to signal Direct Discourse within the narration makes it more difficult to distinguish between the narrative voice and the characters’ voices. Similarly, the spoken syntax used in Indirect Discourse, somewhat blurs its distinction with Direct Discourse, which is another example of the lack of differentiation between the discourse of the narrator and that of the characters. (36) Queneau, Zazie dans le métro, p. 51 Elle songe avec satisfaction que c’est toujours ça de pris. Puis elle se demande s’il ne serait pas temps de dire quelque chose d’aimable au type, mais quoi? [She’s thinking with some satisfaction that at least that’s something that can’t be taken away from her. Then she wonders if it mightn’t be time to say something pleasant to the chap, but what?] (translation by Barbara Wright, John Calder, New York, 1982: 56)

From a functional point of view, the link to spoken discourse is illustrated by the overwhelming use of Direct Discourse and Free Direct Discourse (very often in dialogues) with regards to Indirect and Free Indirect Discourses and by the relative importance of reported speech versus reported thought. These facts mirror the results found when analysing S&TP in third-person narrative sequences in my corpus of spoken French (Part II, Chapter 1). As would be expected, reported thoughts appear in Indirect and Narrated Discourses but they are also often expressed in Direct and Free Indirect Discourses, which brings them closer to speech and gives them more vivacity ((37) and see (19) above).47

 Part II, Chapter 3

(37) Queneau, Zazie dans le métro, p. 56 – Et pourquoi pleurais-tu tout à l’heure sur le banc? Zazie répond pas. Il commence à l’emmerder, ce type. – Tu es perdue, hein? Zazie hausse les épaules. C’est vraiment un sale type. – Tu saurais me dire l’adresse du tonton Gabriel? Zazie se tient de grands discours avec sa petite voix intérieure: non mais, de quoi je me mêle, qu’est-ce qu’i s’imagine, il l’aura pas volé ce qui va lui arriver. Brusquement elle se lève, s’empare du paquet et se carapate. [‘And why were you crying just now on the bench?’ Zazie doesn’t answer. This chap, he’s starting to get on her wick. ‘You’re lost, eh?’ Zazie shrugs her shoulders. He really is a stinker. ‘Could you tell me your uncle Gabriel’s address?’ Zazie and her little inner voice are addressing each other at length: no but what am I letting myself in for, what’s his idea, you can’t say he hasn’ty asked for what he’s going to get. All of sudden she gets up, snatches the parcel and scrams.] (translation by Barbara Wright, John Calder, New York, 1982: 64)

Finally, the rarity of Indirect Discourses in the text could be interpreted as reflecting the preference for parataxis (lack of embedding) seen as typical of spoken French. However, it also seems to mark the independence of the characters’ discourses vis-à-vis the narrator. Most S&TP are thus theatralised as Direct Discourses rather than formally embedded in the narration. Given the quantity of reported discourses in the novel, speeches seem more important than actions and the characters’ voices appear to overtake the narrative voice, or at the very least to equal it.48 This ‘theatral’ quality of the novel might explain why it was so successfully and quickly adapted to film by Louis Malle only one year after its publication. It is also connected to the fact that Queneau himself was a scriptwriter. The French literary movement called Le Nouveau Roman, born in the 1950’s and grouping writers such as Samuel Beckett, Michel Butor, Alain Robbe-Grillet, Nathalie Sarraute, Claude Simon, etc. had a great impact in 20th-c. literature, both through the production of literary texts and the reflection carried in essays and journals by the writers themselves. Although its members worked as individuals, they joined in questioning the relevance of realist literature and challenging its conventions (narrative based on a chronolog-

Ninetieth and twentieth-century literature 

ical plot, focus on an individual character, primacy of action over description, etc.), notably by experimenting with tenses and with S&TP.49 Their innovations fluctuate from author to author and from novel to novel but here I will concentrate on a novel by Sarraute, Le Planetarium (1959). In that novel, using the very words of Sarraute, we can distinguish between the concept of conversation and and that of sous-conversation to refer respectively to what characters actually say (Direct Speech in quotation marks) as opposed to what they think or perceive (Free Indirect and Free Direct Discourse, subjective descriptions).50 The whole text is in the present, which neutralises many of the most explicit differences between the characters’ discourses and the narrative voice. As all our examples below will show, it is at times difficult, even impossible to distinguish between Free (In)direct Discourses and Narrated Discourse or even the simple description of actions (see box in (40)). (40) Sarraute, Le Planétarium, p. 181 Ils s’écartent un peu et regardent la porte d’un air satisfait: “Là, je crois que cette fois ça va aller.” Cette porte en chêne massif a un air pitoyable entre ces murs minces couverts de peinture trop claire. . . On dirait une fantaisie prétentieuse de mauvais décorateur. . . Elle sent en elle, très affaiblie, dernier reflux des émois d’autrefois, trembler une inquiétude légère, une faible, une à peine vivante exaspération. . . Mais à quoi pense-t-elle? Que lui importe? Tout est perdu de toute manière. Il n’y a plus rien à perdre. Elle peut regarder la réalité en face. . . elle sent dans sa bouche une amertume. . . “Moi je dois dire que je trouve ça affreux. Dans cet intérieur . . . Avec ces portes vitrées . . . Il aurait mieux valu laisser l’ancienne porte . . . ” [They step back a bit, look at the door with satisfaction: “There now, I think, this time, it will be all right.” But the solid oak door has piteous look surrounded by these thin, too light-colored walls. . . It looks like the pretentious imagining of an incompetent decorator. . . She feels trembling inside her, very much weakened, the last ebbing of forgotten emotions, a slight disquiet, a weak, barely alive exasperation. . . But what is she thinking about? What does anything mean to her? Everything is done for, in any case, She has nothing more to lose. She can look reality in the face. . . she feels a taste of bitterness in her mouth. . . “I must say, I think it’s awful. In this setting . . . With these glass doors . . . It would have been better to leave the old door . . . ” (translation by Maria Jolas, Georges Braziller Inc., New York, 1960: 211–2)

The only way we can identify the narrative voice is because the pronouns are not transposed: it is a third-person narration but clearly internally focalized

 Part II, Chapter 3

through a particular character, a different one for each chapter. The use of third person instead of first person would thus seem to preclude the use of Free Direct Discourse (see Note 5). However, the rambling feel of some chapters (multitude of interjections, broken syntax, etc.) does remind us of what some scholars see is a characteristic of the ‘free-flowing’ aspect of interior monologue (see Note 31 and Maingueneau 1993: 115). Moreover, Free Direct Discourse is used in the novel when the characters-focalizers conjecture what other characters think of them, or when they imagine what they would say if they could be sincere. In (41) for example, the Direct Discourse in quotation marks clearly differs in substance from what Gisèle would like to say to her father-in-law, which is expressed in Free Direct Discourse. (41) Sarraute, Le Planétarium, p. 115–6 “Oh, moi ce que je vous en dis, c’est pour Alain surtout. Il ne peut pas travailler quand je suis là. J’ai beau ne pas faire de bruit . . . Ça lui ferait le plus grand bien . . . ” Les mots se forment, se pressent . . . Oui, Alain est humilié, diminué, et pour une fois qu’il a l’occasion devant mes parents de se rehausser un peu, d’apporter quelque chose de son côté, vous ne voulez pas bouger . . . vous n’avez jamais levé le petit doigt . . . vous vous en êtes lavé les mains depuis le début . . . vous vous êtes borné à nous mettre des bâtons dans les roues . . . mais c’est votre fils, après tout, ce n’est pas à moi de quémander auprès de vous, c’est à vous de me soutenir . . . vous savez mieux que moi. . . elle retient, arrête tout cela et ne laisse passer que les paroles modelées avec soin qu’elle choisit avec précaution: “Ça ferait du bien à Alain de pouvoir inviter des gens. Il a besoin . . . vous connaissez Alain” Il détourne son regard et fixe un objet placé très loin, ses lèvres dessinent une ébauche de sourire un peu amer, résigné. “Ah vous croyez? Ah, je connais bien Alain”. [“Oh, personally, what I am telling you, it’s above all for Alain. He can’t work when I am at home. Even though I make no noise . . . It would do him a world of good . . . ” Words are forming, they come crowding. . . Yes Alain is humiliated, demeaned, and for once that he has the opportunity, before my parents, to pull himself up a bit, to contribute something on his side, you won’t move . . . you’ve never lifted a finger . . . you washed your hands of him at the very beginning . . . all you’ve done was to put spokes in our wheels . . . but he is your son, after all, it’s not up to me to beg you, it’s up to you to help me . . . you know better than I do. . . she restrains, stops all that and only allows the carefully molded words to come out, words she chooses cautiously: “It would do Alain good to be able to invite people in the house. He needs . . . You know Alain. . . ”

Ninetieth and twentieth-century literature 

He looks elsewhere, stares at an object situated very far off, his lips sketch the ghost of a slightly bitter, resigned smile. “Ah you think so? So I know Alain well?”] (translation by Maria Jolas, Georges Braziller Inc., New York, 1960: 135–6)

Free Indirect Discourses are also used in order to represent imaginary conversations between the characters. For example, the scene in (41) above continues with Gisèle imagining her father-in-law’s jealousy towards her and how he pictures her in his mind (in Free Indirect Discourse) before answering to his hypothetic words (mix of Free Indirect and Free Direct Discourses) as well as quoting her husband pathetic calls for reassurance (in Free Direct Discourse), thereby creating a complex patchwork of multiple discourses (mixing speech and thought). (42) Sarraute, Le Planétarium, p. 116–7 Et elle lui a tout pris. . . usurpatrice. . . voleuse d’enfants. . . vieille femme tout en noir, visage blafard, mains crochues, oeil luisant et fixe de maniaque, guettant les poupons innocents qui jouent aux pâtés dans les squares, emportant son petit, le berçant durement pour qu’il se taise, lui chuchotant pour le calmer, pour qu’on n’entende pas ses cris, ses appels. . . a-t-elle jamais su aimer, bercer son enfant?. . . La honte, la rage la font rougir. Rien à perdre maintenant. Entre nous, entre vieille gens qui en savent long, qui connaissent la vie, pas de ménagement, n’est-ce pas? Pas d’attendrissement. Voleuse? Mais il veut rire. . . le beau trésor, entre nous. . . il aurait pu le garder. . . un poupon, c’est vrai, un nourrisson couvé, sans force. . . un gosse capricieux. . . La vérité longtemps comprimée, l’horrible réalité qu’elle écrasait se délivre, se gonfle, elle sent une boule dans sa gorge. . . toujours cramponné à ses jupes, il faut à tout instant le remonter, le rassurer, le consoler, Germaine Lemaire, sa dernière idée fixe. . . l’opinion des gens. . . se jetant à tout moment dans ses jambes pour chercher une protection. . . pauvre gamin fragile qu’une chiquenaude fait flageoler. . . Est-ce que ça vaut la peine? Crois-tu que j’aie du talent? Mais oui, mon cher trésor, tu es le plus fort, le plus intelligent. . . Tirant ainsi sa sève. . . Pompant sa vie “Oui, vous le connaissez aussi bien que moi. Vous savez comme il a besoin d’être rassuré, soutenu. . . ” Elle sent qu’en lui tout bouge et se déplace, elle a frappé juste, il se raidit sous le coup, [. . . ] [And she took it all away from him. . . usurper. . . kidnapper of little children. . . old woman in black, with a pale face, claw-like hands, glazed, staring eyes of a maniac, lying in wait for innocent babes making mud pies in public

 Part II, Chapter 3

parks, carrying off his little boy, rocking him hard to keep him quiet, whispering to him to calm him, so no one will hear him cry, call out. . . has she ever really loved, really rocked his child?. . . Shame and rage make her blush. Nothing to lose now. Between ourselves, between us old people who know a lot of things, who are acquainted with life, no consideration, shall we? No emotion. Kidnapper? He must be joking. . . the little darling, between ourselves. . . he might have kept him. . . a newborn infant, it’s true, a baby, puny, weak. . . a capricious brat. . . the truth long repressed, the horrible reality she has been trampling under foot frees itself, swells, she feels a lump in her throat. . . always hanging on to her skirts, she must continually be giving him a lift, reassuring him, consoling him, Germaine Lemaire, his latest obsession. . . other people’s opinions. . . continually throwing himself into her arms, when he needs protection. . . poor, frail little chap who trembles if you flick your finger at him. . . Is this worth while? Do you think I really have talent? Why certainly, my darling . . . you are the cleverest, the most intelligent of all . . . drawing off her sap like that. . . sucking her life away. . . “Yes, you know him as well as I do. You know how he needs to be reassured, upheld. . . ” She feels that everything inside him is moving and changing place, she has made a shrewd thrust, he stiffens all of a sudden, [. . .]] (translation by Maria Jolas, Georges Braziller Inc., New York, 1960: 136–7)

The violence of Gisèle’s words in Free Direct and Free Indirect Discourses, i.e. in the sous-conversation, betrays the ultimate artificiality of what people say to each other on the surface while actually considering each other as ennemies and every interaction as a potential fight. Interestingly, some scenes of the novel are repeated in separate chapters, as they are perceived by different characters. In (43) below, the text is presented in a way to compare two versions of the same conversation, the first one viewed by Berthe and the second by her brother Pierre (Alain’s father).

Ninetieth and twentieth-century literature 

(43) Sarraute, Le Planétarium p. 204–5 Berthe’s perspective Il se redresse, se cale dans son fauteuil, il croise les mains: “Mais si, mais si, je t’écoute. Mais si, j’entends très bien. Qu’est-ce qu’il y a?”. Cette satisfaction qu’il vient de s’offrir leur a fait perdre du temps, mais elle ne lui en veut pas, il s’agit bien de cela en ce moment, de grief, de ressentiments. . . elle a déjà tout pardonné, tout est effacé, allons, s’il le veut, il peut rattraper le temps perdu, mais qu’il se dépêche, qu’il montre un peu de bonne volonté, elle est à bout de forces, elle sent les larmes lui monter aux yeux. . . c’est très sérieux qu’il se rende compte. . . “C’est grave . . . Alain a été odieux . . . ” Il se rengorge tout à coup. Il a l’air de contempler quelque chose en lui-même qui lui donne ce petit sourire plein d’attendrissement, de contentement. . . il se renverse en arrière. . . “Ah, sacré Alain, va, qu’est-ce qu’il a encore fait?”

[He straightens up, settles himself in his chair, folds his hands: “Yes, yes, I am, I’m listening to you. Why yes, I hear very well. What’s the matter?” That satisfaction he had just indulged in had made them lose time, but she doesn’t hold it against him, there can be no question of that at present, of grievances, resentments. . . she has already forgiven, everything is forgotten, come, come, if

p. 216–7 Pierre’s perspective “Oui, oui, je t’écoute. Mais si, j’entends très bien. De quoi s’agit-il? – Mais je te le dis, tu n’écoutes pas . . . Rends-toi compte, voyons, c’est grave . . . Alain est venu me trouver pour cette histoire, pour cet échange d’appartements . . . Il m’a fait peur, je ne plaisante pas . . . Elle se tamponne les yeux, elle détourne la tête, sa voix s’étrangle. . . Oh! Il a été . . . tu n’imagines pas . . . ” Cet air de faible femme martyrisée, de biche aux abois, dès qu’il le lui voit, fait lever chez lui aussitôt, il ne sait pas pourquoi, une grosse brute, un dur, un mâle qui se vautre, étend ses jambes chaussées de grosses bottes boueuses, ricane, ah, nous sommes ainsi faits, et mon fils, hein, il pose un peu là, pas une mauviette, un gars, un mauvais garçon, paillard, trousseur de cotillon, détrousseur de vieilles dames avares, il se rengorge, il rit d’un air fat: “Ah, sacré Alain, va, qu’est-ce qu’il a encore fait?” Elle rougit, ses yeux se rapetissent, son regard devient aigu, féroce: “Yes, yes, I’m listening. Yes I do, I hear you very well. What’s it all about? – But I tell you, you are not listening . . . Try to realize after all, it’s serious . . . Alain came to see me about that affair, about that exchange of apartments . . . He frightened me, I’m not joking . . . She dabs her eyes, turns her head away, her voice is choking is choking. . . Oh! He was . . . You can’t imagine . . . ”

 Part II, Chapter 3

he wants to, he can make up for lost time, but he should hurry, he should show a little good will, she’s at the end of her tether, she feels the tears welling in her eyes. . . it’s very serious, he should realize that. . . “It’s no laughing matter. . . Alain has behaved outrageously. . .” He draws himself up all of a sudden. He appears to be looking at something inside himself which gives him that fond, contented little smile. . . he leans backwards. . . “Ah that confounded Alain, again, what’s he done now?”]

(translation by Maria Jolas, Georges Braziller Inc., New York, 1960: 240–1)

That air of weak woman being martyrized, of a doe at bay, as soon as he sees it in her, immediately brings out in him, he doesn’t know why, the big brute, the hefty, the male who sprawls about, stretches out his legs with their big muddy boots, sneers, ha! we’re made like that, and my son, eh, he can hold his own, he’s no softy, a real fellow, a tough guy, a rake, a petticoat-chaser, a pilferer of stingy old women, he’s being very cocky, he laughs conceitedly: “Ah that confounded Alain, again, what’s he done now?” She blushes, her eyes narrow, their expression becomes sharp, fierce: p. 255

Some descriptions are indeed parallel (e.g. il se rengorge) but almost everything else is not. Obviously Free Indirect Discourses and Free Direct Discourses are particular to each character but even formally marked Direct Discourses do not necessarily coincide since they are filtered by two distinct consciences. As already discussed above, the Direct Discourses on the surface hide harsh Free Direct and Free Indirect Discourses at the level of sous-conversation. However, (43) also shows that characters-focalisers oscillate between their fear/hate of the others and their need for their love and attention, between indulgence for themselves and tough self-criticism. An example at point is Pierre’s smile, which Berthe seems to perceive as tender (ce petit sourire plein d’attendrissement) but which Pierre himself recognizes as self-satisfied (d’un air fat). Unlike Roulet (2000: 7) does for a similar example (sourire flatté ‘smug smile’ p. 169), I prefer not to see this as a lack of homogeneity at the level of focalisation but rather as a tough and ironic stance of the character-focaliser towards himself. In other words, I choose to interpret these perceptions as these of the characters rather than these of an external narrator-focaliser noting Pierre’s complacency. Excerpt (43) above also contains an example of narration included in Direct Discourse between quotation marks (from Elle se tamponne to s’étrangle). This means that the reader must be vigilant even in typographically marked

Ninetieth and twentieth-century literature 

situations as he must constantly assess who is speaking. Sarraute’s deliberate rejection of any verbum dicendi / sentiendi, dashes or paragraph breaks to mark Direct Discourse also contributes to the linearisation of the text where every word could be part of the dialogue between characters (Sarraute 1956: 105–7). In fact, for her, dialogues, i.e. conversations and especially sous-conversations, are more important than actions (Sarraute 1956: 104). Ultimately, Sarraute’s strategy is to reduce the interest of what is actually spoken and formally marked by typography (the lieux communs ‘common places’, Adert 1996: 206; Roulet 2000: 7–11) while conflating everything else within a linear but multidimensional (i.e. polyphonic) voice that is narrating and focalising at the same time but also translating what the conversation really means (Adert 1996: 217; Roulet 2000: 10, 13). In a way, it seems that the main character of each chapter can become narrator: he or she speaks about him/herself in the third person because he or she distances him/herself from his/her experiencing-self. So it seems that it is not the narrative voice that overtakes the character’s voice but rather the character that ‘almost’ overtakes the narrative voice. In conclusion, 20th-c. authors such as Gide, Céline, Aragon, Queneau, Sarraute (and indeed many others) proposed innovative narratological approaches based on tense alternations and creative uses of reported discourse. Their S&TP strategies – in particular the play on continuum and the ambiguities allowed by Free Indirect Discourse in the present and Free Direct Discourse – entail some or all of the following consequences: 1. The discourse of the character is put on the same level as that of the narrator, without any ‘marked’ difference (possibly the same tense, no typographical mark, no verbum dicendi/ sentiendi, same colloquial style), therefore calling into question the independence and consistency of the narrative voice as well as the distinction between external and internal focalisation. 2. The absence of verbum dicendi/sentiendi blurs the distinction between speech and thought, hence creating a subtler continuum going from external speech to interior monologue to even pre-reflexive perceptions. In some novels (Céline, Sarraute), what characters actually say is infinitely less important than what they think and feel. 3. It is also more difficult to know which character is speaking/thinking so that some narratives become continuous texts full of voices but without real individuals.

 Part II, Chapter 3

4. These ambiguities call for more interpretative work (and thus more freedom) on the part of the reader, who is more or less abandoned by the author/narrator.51 Clearly in all texts, discourse (speech, thought) takes a greater importance than actions. This is linked to the writers’ complex attitudes towards reality and the novel. On the one hand, the oralisation and theatralisation of language at work in some texts (massive use of Direct Discourses, presence of colloquialisms) would seem to take us towards a parler vrai (‘authentic speech’, in the line of Zola). On the other hand, one is given the feeling that reality is only the sum of what registers on different consciences, i.e. that it is not linear and unique, mastered by an omniscient narrator but must be reconstructed by the reader from the characters’ and the narrator’s discourses. There is the additional caveat that what appears on the surface – speech – is inherently empty and useless because it is dominated by ideological structures that corrupt it and because it is always what has been said or thought before by someone else.52 The paradox is that one cannot trust discourse (that of the characters or that of the narrator), yet it is the only way to reach reality. This allows us to understand what is meant by the title of Sarraute’s essay L’ère du soupçon (‘The Age of suspicion’, 1956).

Notes . These texts are available for downloading on the website of the Bibliothèque Nationale de France (Gallica Classique). Moreover, my reflections are also based on my overall knowledge of French literature and, in the case of the above authors, are not at all restricted solely to the texts chosen for the actual corpus. . At a previous stage of this book, I had planned to analyse ten 20th-c. texts instead of five, notably by adding more recent novels by writers like Pennac or Van Cauwelaert and by including other texts representing the Nouveau Roman trend (e.g. Robbe-Grillet’s Les Gommes and La Jalousie). This turned out to be impossible as I tried to keep the length of the present chapter similar to that of others chapters in the second part. . For classical references on Free Indirect Discourse (with historical accounts on the topic), see Fludernik (1993, 1996), Mc Hale (1978), Pascal (1977), Rosier (1999), Strauch (1974, 1975). These scholars also offer excellent criticisms of Banfield’s approach of Free Indirect Discourse, which, to cut short, is entirely at odd with the four points I am making below (Banfield 1982). . For spoken French, see ex. (42), (44), (49), (50)] in Part I, Chapter 3, Section 1.3 and (14–16), (40) in Part II, Chapter 1, Section 2.2. For medieval French, see ex. (12), (23), (47), (48) in Part II, Chapter 2.

Ninetieth and twentieth-century literature  . My views on Free Indirect Discourse are almost entirely in agreement with Rosier’s book Le Discours Rapporté: Histoire, Théories, Pratiques (1999), except for one important fact. I believe that Free Indirect Discourse is signalled when necessary by the transposition of grammatical person (verb ending, pronouns, possessives, etc.), and only optionally, by the transposition of tenses. Rosier (1999: 280–1) however considers that the use of the present tense (even with a transposition of grammatical person) automatically pertains to Free Direct Discourse instead of Free Indirect Discourse. . As will also be shown infra, the same author may use Free Indirect Discourse differently from book to book, as is the case for Flaubert in Madame Bovary and L’éducation sentimentale (also see Gardin 1996). Flavin (1987) shows differences of use of free indirect speech and free indirect thought within the work of Jane Austen. . Of course Direct Thought also indicates less control on the part of the narrator, but Leech and Short (1981: 345) see it as more artificial: Because the direct perception of someone else’s thought is not possible, DT is perceived as more artificial than more indirect forms. When DT is used the writer is in effect saying, ‘this is what the character would have said if he had made his thoughts explicit.’ (. . .) In spite of the artificial nature of the use of DT, it has been adopted fairly widely, particularly in more traditional novels, perhaps through analogy with the dramatic mode of soliloquy, or in an attempt to make character thought more actual. From this point of view, we can think of FIT historically as a natural development, keeping much of the vividness of DT without the artificiality of the ‘speaking to oneself ’ convention. Since FIT gets the best of both worlds it is understandable that it has become as common as it has in the twentieth-century novel. Leech and Short’s hypothesis is based on their analysis of written fiction and thus of a very specific corpus. I have already mentioned their work in connection with the tendency for Indirect Discourse to report thoughts in my corpus of spoken French (Part II, Chapter 1, Section 2.3 and Note 29). Also see part Two, Chapter 2 for medieval French. . Almost every work on Free Indirect Discourse offers examples taken from Flaubert and/or Zola, which makes it impossible to give an exhaustive list of references regarding these writers’ use of reported discourse. On Flaubert, see Cavell (1986), Duchet (1976, 1975), Fambrough (1987), Gardin (1996), Ginsburg (1978, 1970), Hirsch (1980), Jünke (2003), Kullmann (1995, 1992), Perruchot (1975), Prince (1980), Proust (1920), Ramazani (1988, 1987), Teilmann (2000), Thibaudet (1922: 276–282), Warning & Morton (1982), Weinberg (1981, 1977–78) and the body of works written by the group of scandinavian polyphonists: Fløttum (2000b, c, d, 1999a, b, 1998), Fløttum & Norén (2002), Holm (2004, 2002, 2000), Nølke & Olsen (2000), Norén (2000a), Olsen (1999a), Sørensen Ravn Jørgensen (2004, 2000). On Zola, see Mussio (2000). On the comparison between Zola and Flaubert, also see Maingueneau (1993: 108–10), Kullmann (1995), Vuillaume (2000). On the differences between free indirect thought and free indirect speech, also see Fludernik (1993: 76–78). For more examples of Free Indirect Discourse in Zola and Flaubert’s novels in this book, see ex. (46)–(48), (70) in Part I, Chapter 3, Section 1.3 and (17) in Part II, Chapter 1, Section 2.2.

 Part II, Chapter 3 . See amongst others Pascal, who speaks about ‘narratorial usurpation’ on the part of Flaubert. (1978: 103–111) but also Maingueneau (1993: 107), Perruchot (1975: 268–70), amongst others. . Note however than there are other important focalizers in Madame Bovary, notably her husband Charles Bovary and her lovers, Rodolphe and Léon. As a matter of fact, Charles is the main protagonist of the book up to his marriage with Emma (Chapters 1 to 4 of Part I) and after her death (Chapters 9 to 11 of Part III). The juxtaposition of Emma’s exhalted thoughts and these of the men around her is often ironic since their thoughts are either completely different (the boring Charles and the pragmatic Rodolphe) or too similar not to be ridiculous (the ‘sensitive’ Léon). Also the beginning of the very first chapter of the novel is actually told in the first person plural, a nous (‘we’) that refers to the children of a boarding school where Charles Bovary arrives as a new pupil: the nous-narrator is thus an internal witness to the story events (internal focalisation) but it soon disappears to allow for the external narrator (Pascal 1978: 99). In Bel Ami, there are rare moments when we have access to the point of view of the women that Georges Duroy has seduced. . As a reminder, the focalisation model used here is that of Rimmon-Kenan (1978: 74–85), reformulating and modifying Genette (1972). The distinction between external and internal focalisation depends on the focalising subject. In external focalisation, the focaliser is the narrator outside the story and can (at least potentially) give us access to an unrestricted knowledge about the story events (panoramic and panchronic perspective). In internal focalisation, the focaliser is a character inside the reported world, whose perceptions are obviously more limited and synchronic. Each type of focalisation can then further be divided into two categories, depending on the way objects (person, things) are focalised. In external focalisation ‘from without’, the narrator/focaliser presents only outward manifestations of the objects (e.g. gestures, speech, appearances, etc.) while in external focalisation ‘from within’, s/he can penetrate ‘within’ the focalised objects by exposing their thoughts and feelings. Similarly, when the internal focalisation is from within, the character perceives his/her own speech and thoughts and when it is from without, the character perceives the speech, and more rarely the thoughts, of another character. The fact that free indirect speech can be used in order to denote multiple layering of speech and thought and to present speech “as it registers on one or more consciousness” (Flavin 1987: 138) has been noted by many scholars (Flavin 1987: 139; Guiraud 1971: 85; Jahn 1992: 363; Pascal 1977; Perruchot 1975: 262–3; Strauch 1974: 61 amonst others). Indeed for Banfield (1973: 31), free indirect speech can only be of that kind: “Even when a dialogue is presented in the free indirect style, it is not understood as actual spoken words, but as words heard or perceived, registering on some consciousness”. Of course, this is an over-generalisation, as indeed many of Banfield’s views are, see infra. . In short, subjective description (Rimmon-Kenan 1978: 80) is signalled by an intricate play of linguistic and contextual elements (change of lexicon, of deixis and of definite references, use of imperfect tense and evaluative adjectives, knowledge of the character versus knowledge of the narrator, etc.). Since none of these elements are restricted to that mode, it can be tricky to identify, just as it is for Free Indirect Discourse, which shares a lot of similarities with represented perception and is sometimes indistinguishable from it. For example in the following excerpt, it is clear that the question in italics is a free indirect thought while

Ninetieth and twentieth-century literature 

it is more likely that the preceding sentence [il y en . . . bleu] expresses Duroy’s perception but is not a completely formed thought: Maupassant, Bel Ami, Chapter 2. Duroy se trouvait placé entre Mme de Marelle et sa fille. Il se sentait de nouveau gêné, ayant peur de commettre quelque erreur dans le maniement conventionnel de la fourchette, de la cuiller ou des verres. Il y en avait quatre, dont un légèrement teinté de bleu. Que pouvait-on boire dans celui-là? [Duroy found himself seated between Madame de Marelle and her daughter. Once again he was feeling awkward, terrified of using the wrong fork, spoon or glass. He had four, one with a bluish tinge to it. What could that be for?] (translation and punctuation by Margaret Mauldon, OUP, Oxford, 2001: 21) Rabatel (2004, 2001, 1998) calls this phenomenon PDV (point of view) and treats it as a category of represented discourse, because it is representative of ‘embryonic’, ‘non- or prereflexive’ thoughts, that are rarely disconnected from other forms of reported discourses (Rabatel 2001: 88–9). Also see Brinton (1980) and Leech and Short (1981: 342). . In Nana, the main character is a courtisane who never seems to apprehend reality other than by reacting to it. But at times, Fauchery, the journalist and the count Muffat her rich lover, are shown to observe the reality around them and make internal reflections about it (e.g. Chapter 3, Chapter 7). Zola, Nana, Chapter 3 Sabine, gagnée par cette gaieté, porta son mouchoir à ses lèvres. Et ces rires, dans la solennité de la vaste pièce, prenaient un son dont Fauchery resta frappé; ils sonnaient le cristal qui se brise. Certainement, il y avait là un commencement de fêlure. [Sabine was won over by this gaiety, an put her hankershief up to her lips. And in the vast and solemn room their laughter sounded a note which struck fauchery strangely, the note of a delicate glass breaking. Assuredly here was the beginning of the “little rift.”] (translation and punctuation by Henri Peyre, Collier-MacMillan Ltd, London, 1962: 77) In Pot-Bouille, there is no main character (although Octave Mouret is important) but the whole story revolves about what is happening in a rich bourgeois house, with the masters on the one hand and the servants on the other. Interestingly, the masters are more often quoted in Free Indirect Discourse than the servants whose speeches either appear in Direct Discourse or in Narrated Discourse (supposedly when the crudeness of their vocabulary must be avoided and is summarised by terms such as mots abominables ‘awful words’, termes atroces ‘appalling terms’, p. 463). . For the notion of contamination in Flaubert, see amongst others Maingueneau (1993: 111). Bakhtin (1986 [1929]: 136 uses the term ‘speech interference’ for this type of phenomenon, Mc Hale (1978: 260–3) speaks about ‘coloured narratives’ and Leech and Short (1981: 349–50) about ‘speech allusion’. Note that Pascal’s brilliant description of Flaubert and Zola’s use of Free Indirect Discourse misses the fact that Zola uses more Free Indirect Speech than Free Indirect Thought (Pascal 1978: Chapter 7, The French Masters).

 Part II, Chapter 3

This might be due to the fact that Pascal does not distinguish between speech and thought in his analysis and uses the term ‘Free Indirect Speech’ for both. . Note that the translator changed the Indirect Discourses of the French version into Direct Discourses, which has the unfortunate effect of cancelling the parallelism between the three utterances: she shouted to him to jump and he jumped/ she shouted to spit and he spat/ she shouted to walk and he walked. . The idea of a ‘narrator-witness’ is suggested, amongst others in Maingueneau (1993: 110– 11) and Genette (1983: 70). Also see Marnette (1998: 155–7). Of course (6) is reminiscent of the opening of Le Rouge et le Noir (Stendhal). . Example of Flaubert’s remarks: Madame Bovary, Part 2, Chapter 1 Depuis les événements que l’on va raconter; rien, en effet, n’a changé à Yonville. [Since the events which I am about to relate, nothing has changed in Yonville] (translation and punctuation by Gerard Hopkins, Oxford University Press, Oxford, 1981: 77 – note the conversion of impersonal on into personal I) Also see Pascal (1978: 100). . In that case, we can imagine that all Free Indirect Discourses, whether speeches or thoughts, are probably filtered through the perspective of the first-person narrator/character in the past as opposed to other characters (see Note 10 above). . The utterances Elle était vide ! Elle était vide complètement! could be interpreted as a subjective description (i.e. what Rabatel calls PDV, see Note 12 above) since the exclamation marks could underline the panick of the experiencing-self in the past or the lingering amazement of the narrating-self in the present. . This is especially clear in third-person novel where the use of Free Indirect Discourse will automatically be signalled by a change in the third person and in the imperfect or future of the past tenses. It is less so in narratives told in the first person since there is not switch in the first-person pronouns and verbal endings. Interestingly, this omnipotent but hidden narrator of 19th and early 20th-c. novels had evolved from the overbearing narrator of 17th, 18th, and early 19th-c. novels, where the character’s thoughts were barely described in psycho-narration and most often with lengthy generalizations on the part of the narrator (Cohn 1978: 21–26) and where Direct Discourses were not always autonomous from the narration (no syntactic independence since sentences that began as narration could finish as Direct Discourse and no quotation marks distinguished dialogues from the text, Salvan 1999). . See Note 19 above. Also see the discussion and ex. (46)–(48), (70) in Part One, Chapter 3, Section 1.3. . In written literature, French passé composé (j’ai fait) can be roughly equated to present perfect in English (I have done), imperfect (je faisais) to a continuous or iterative past (I was doing, I would do) and simple past (je fis) to a punctual past (I did). In spoken French, present perfect (j’ai fait) has overtaken simple past in order to express a punctual past without link to the present. Concerning the experimentation with tenses, it is undoubt-

Ninetieth and twentieth-century literature 

edly because of his resourceful manipulation of imperfect (noted by Proust 1920: 75–8) that Flaubert so successfully extended the boundaries of Free Indirect Discourse. . This alternation is indeed present in early medieval texts influenced by orality and in modern spoken narrative (Fleischman 1990). Note that translators do not always respect the use of present tenses in their translations, which I therefore had to adapt myself to stay closer to the original version. These and other minor modifications are marked by the expression ‘adapted from’ in the references following each example. . For an history of Free Direct Discourse and of its impact on 20th-c. literature, also see Rosier (1999: 266–97). My definition of Free Direct Discourse is based on that of Maingueneau (1998: 125), Rosier (1999: 266–97) and Stoltz (2001) amongst others. For Leech and Short and their team, on the contrary, there is Free Direct Discourse when there is either no verbum dicendi or no quotation mark (Semino et al. 1997: 23; Short et al. 1997: 224–5; Wynne et al. 1998: 236). Since their definition does not enable them to distinguish clearly Direct Discourse from Free Direct Discourse, they submit that it might simply be a single category (Short et al. 1996: 118–9). . There are other possibilities on the continuum. In Zazie dans le métro, for example, there are no quotation marks to distinguish Direct Discourse but it can be introduced by a simple dash, and/or by a verbum dicendi or sentiendi. . This view is also shared by Stoltz (2001) but goes against Rosier’s description of Free Indirect Discourse (1999: 280–1). See Note 5 of this chapter. . Note the complexity of (16). While it is easy to pinpoint the beginning of the free indirect thought with the question (serait-ce la fin de tout?), the end of the sequence is blurred by the use of the present tense in the last sentence of the first paragraph (ces bêtes trottent), the absence of a conjugated verb in the second paragraph and the use of present in the third one. The first present tense (ces bêtes trottent) can be interpreted as a generic present and thus as still part of the free indirect thought, which explains its inclusion in the same paragraph. However, the next two paragraphs could be interpreted either as coming from the narrating-self in the present (narration) or as felt by the experiencing-self in the past (Free Direct or Indirect Discourse). . Viewing Free Direct Discourse as interior monologue only is reminiscent of the fact that many scholars only offer examples of Free Indirect Thoughts when they analyse Free Indirect Discourse (see Part I, Chapter 2, Section 3.1). . Remember our examples of spoken French ((5), (6) Part II, Chapter 1, Section 2.1), where the speaker is either referring to himself as je or addressing himself as tu, thereby alternating between a ‘true monologue’ and a dialogue. . This is the case even if as in Ulysses, some chapters constitutes whole interior monologues. . For some scholars (Genette 1983, Maingueneau 1993: 114, Passias 1976: 209, etc.), based on Dujardin’s reflections (1931), interior monologue should always have a certain inchoateness, typical of the free flowing quality of consciousness phenomena (hence the use of repetitions, of paratactic and/or broken syntax, etc.). However this is not necessary the case, even for autonomous interior monologue. On the forms and the history of interior

 Part II, Chapter 3

monologue in French, see Fleischman (1990: 238–44), Maingueneau (1993: 112–5), Philippe (2001), Rabatel (2001), Rosier (1999: 271–8) and Weissman (1978). . Which is not to belittle the importance of texts such as Dujardin’s since they illustrate how 20th-c. novels became narratives about thoughts (stream of consciousness) rather than the story of events or even the story of an individual. . Journal des Faux-monnayeurs, 17 June 1919, quoted by Domon, p. 467 of the Folio edition in his analysis of the text [translation by Justin O’Brien, The Modern Library, New York, 1955, p. 405]. In fact Gide first planned to have the novel told by a first-person character, Lafcadio, present in a previous book, Les Caves du Vatican (1914). . This ironical standpoint reminds us of the medieval narrator in Chrétien de Troyes’ romances (see Part II, Chapter 2, Section 3.4). . Speaking about his characters’ narratives, Gide notes in his diary: “In their account of the action, I should like the events to apear slightly warped; the reader will take a sort of interest from the mere fact of having to re construct. The story requires his collaboration in order to take shape properly.” (Journal des Faux-monnayeurs, 21 November 1920, translation by Justin O’Brien, The Modern Library, New York, 1955, p. 416). . The relationship to reality is further called into question by the narrator’s introduction of characters such as demons and angels that tempt or battle with the ‘real’ characters. At one point, the narrator shows Bernard fighting all night with an angel (Chapter 13, p. 395– 6), a scene that Bernard later describes to Edouard as a debate within himself (Chapter 13, p. 398). Here again, we have two interpretations of the same reality. . See Edouard’s description of his novel, p. 213–22, in particular the following comment: “Il n’y a de vérité psychologique que particulière, il est vrai; mais il n’y a d’art que général. [. . .] Je voudrais un roman qui serait à la fois aussi vrai, et aussi éloigné de la réalité, aussi particulier et aussi général à la fois, aussi humain et aussi fictif qu’Athalie, que Tartuffe ou que Cinna.” (p. 215). [It is true that there is no psychological truth unless it be particular; but on the other hand there is no art unless it be general. [. . .] I should like a novel which should be at the same time as true and as far from the reality, as particular and at the same time as general, as human and as fictitious as Athalie , or Tartuffe, or Cinna.] (translation by Dorothy Bussy, The Modern Library, New York, 1955: 186–7). . Examples of morpho-syntax typical of spoken French are the drop of the negative particle ne (e.g. je trouvais pas instead of je ne trouvais pas in (23)), the use of dislocated structures (e.g. je voulais bien moi instead of je voulais bien in (23)), the use of the pronoun on instead of nous (e.g. on parte instead of nous partions in (23)), etc. On oral discourse in Céline’s novels, see Gaitet (1987), Luzzati & Luzzati (1987), Montaut (1982). . Also see Blanche-Benveniste (1997: 109) and Rosier (1999: 251). . Others signs of artificiality are the fact that hesitations, repetitions and ambiguities typical of real spoken utterances are absent and that morpho-syntactic spoken features are not consistently present in the text (especially in the narrative part). For example, the negative ne is kept in on ne se méfie jamais but not in c’est pas in (25).

Ninetieth and twentieth-century literature  . An example of such ambiguity is the last sentence of (26); is je me décidais a simple Narrated Discourse (i.e. ‘this is what I decided at the time’) or is it a Narrated Discourse embedded in a Free Indirect Discourse (i.e. I thought: ‘I decide to risk everything’)? Also see the discussion and ex. (46)–(48), (70)] in Part I, Chapter 3, Section 1.3. . Also see Destruel’s comments, p. 536–7 of the Folio edition, in his analysis of the text: “Le silence est dans l’oeuvre de Céline une exigence esthétique, tant il est vrai que le recours au langage, comme moyen de communication d’abord, est dénoncé comme le pire des mensonges.” [Silence is an aesthetic requirement in Céline’s work, since using language first and overall as a way to communicate is denounced as the worst lie]. . The character named Catherine appears in the part called Victor as well. . The notion of ‘polyphony’ is brilliantly used by Stoltz (2001) to analyse the use of Free Direct Discourse in Les Voyageurs de l’Impériale, the third novel of the cycle. Stoltz (2001) also notes the continuum of Free Indirect Discourse and Free Direct Discourse as well as the blurring between the narrator’s voice and that of the characters, especially in the case of Free Direct Discourse. Rosier (2003) links Aragon’s use of Free Direct Discourse to his conscious aesthetic attempt to create ‘socialist realism’ notably by using collage like the German artist John Hartfield who started as a dadaïst and became a specialist of political photomontage. She quotes Aragon’s preface of Les Beaux quartiers (1965), the second novel of the cycle, where he explains how he gathered bit and pieces of real dialogues he heard around him and included them as collages in his novel and where he says that “toute citation peut être tenue pour du collage” (“any quote can be considered as collage”, Aragon (1965: 30) quoted by Rosier (2003)). Rosier also notes how Aragon’s Free Direct Discourses evolve from having the character speaking and thinking without any warning to diluting the enunciative responsibilities through ready-made formulas and references to the collective conscience (on-dit ‘hearsay’). . The other parts of the novel are substantially different from Diane. They are more traditional in their use of reported discourses, using mostly Free Indirect Discourses in the past rather than Free Indirect Discourses in the present or Free Direct Discourse. We often have access to the speech and thought of the main characters such as Catherine and to a lesser extent Victor. However there are more mixing between past and present tenses and the narrative voice intervenes to judge the characters or reflect on the political events described. The tone initiated in Diane returns in the rest of the cycle where Aragon relinquishes positive characters such as Catherine (romantic rebel) and Victor (proletarian communist) in order to stage the lives – and thus the discourses – of bourgeois protagonists. . Examples of morpho-syntax typical of spoken French are the alternation of present and past tenses (see (36)), the drop of the negative particle ne (e.g. Zazie répond pas instead of Zazie ne répond pas in (37)), the use of dislocated structures (e.g. Il commence à l’emmerder, ce type instead of Ce type commence à l’emmerder in (37)), the elision of pronouns (e.g. t’en es sûr instead of tu en es sûr in (35)), etc. Like in Céline’s text, spoken French features are not consistently used in the the text (especially in the narrative part). For example, the negative ne is kept in Charles ne répondit pas in (35) but not in Zazie répond pas in (37) (see Note 40 above). On oral discourse in Queneau’s novels, see amongst others Aron (1983), Bork (1975), Gaitet (1987), Jeandillou (1985), Luzzati & Luzzati (1987), Michelson (1970), Smock (1972), Swigger (1972).

 Part II, Chapter 3 . Indeed, most Free Indirect Discourses found in the novel are free indirect thoughts, a quarter of them being in the present or presenting a possible hesitation between the free direct and free indirect modes. . There are only rare examples where the narrator knows more than the characters (e.g. p. 63, elle mentait doucement la Marceline ‘Marceline was softly lying’) or judges them. He also lets the reader discovers some of the characters real identity at the same time as the other characters. . Fleischman (1990: 294–309) finely dissects the use of present tense in three Nouveau Roman novels, highlighting the links between tense strategies and S&TP strategies, especially in terms of focalisation (Butor, La Métamorphose (‘Second Thoughts’); Robbe-Grillet La Jalousie (‘Jealousy’; and Simon, La Route des Flandres (‘The Flanders Road’)). Rosier (1999: 291–7) also underlines the significance of Nouveau Roman for the development and the theorisation of reported discourse. These two lines of reflection inspired and informed the present section. For analysis of excepts taken from Sarraute’s Le Planetarium, see Maingueneau (1993: 114–5), Olsen (1999b) and especially Roulet (2000). . See Sarraute’s series of essays on the novel: L’ère du soupçon (‘the age of suspicion’ 1956: 81–124) and Weissman (1978: 9–11). Note that for Sarraute, the concept of sousconversation also includes preverbal material, i.e. pre-conscience, emergent thoughts, what Rabatel (2004, 2001, 1998) calls PDV (see Note 12 above). . Remember that Collins (2001: 68) describes Direct Discourse as a hearer-based strategy, i.e. instead of assimilating the reported information to his own authorial viewpoint, the narrator-reporter gives the reader-interpreter the task of evaluating the represented speech event and analysing “characteristically diffuse information” while making “the necessary deictic adjustments for himself ” (see also Part II, Chapter 1, Section 2.1). . This ‘dialogical’ presence of the already-said, already-thought in one’s utterance is of course noted by Bakhtin (e.g. Bakhtin 1986 [1979]: 93).

Chapter 4

Contemporary written press

.

Introduction

The linguistic study of S&TP in the press is a fairly recent phenomenon.1 French linguists (especially normative grammarians) long spurned journalistic discourse in general because they did not consider it as representative of the linguistic norm (unlike literature).2 Indeed, this misgiving is well illustrated in newspapers’ sections devoted to ‘good language’ where readers often write about journalists’ perceived ‘sloppiness’. Lately, however, numerous linguists have used press articles to analyse various phenomena such as tenses or moods alternation, textual coherence, lexical innovation, etc. Clearly, journalistic discourse is far from being a utilitarian and therefore inferior expression of language. It is a speech genre of its own (with many sub-genres) and as such, it generates very specific linguistic forms and strategies, notably with regards to S&TP. This is perfectly illustrated by the use of ‘mixed reported discourses’ in the press (i.e. Direct Discourses with que, Indirect Discourses and Narrated Discourses with segments in quotation marks). As I have already discussed earlier (Part I, Chapter 3) and will further develop in the current chapter, these particular forms of S&TP create a distinctive discourse strategy by allowing journalists to present facts (i.e. discourses) in a direct and thus supposedly objective way (quotation marks and possibly non transposed segment in Direct Discourse) while appearing detached from these facts in their capacity as reporters (use of que and transposed segments in Indirect Discourse). However I will also show that this strategy is not present in all publications, nor even everywhere within the same journal or magazine. Moreover I will investigate whether some types of Mixed Discourses are more frequent than others. In addition, I will also look at the other S&TP categories and analyse their use, depending on the type of discourse involved (speech, thought, attitude) and the purposes of the journalist (argumentation, legitimisation, reader’s involvement, etc.). Recent studies of S&TP in the press mainly focus – explicitly or implicitly – on news reports, maybe because these can be perceived as narrative sequences

 Part II, Chapter 4

and thus more easily compared to literary fiction.3 It is not always clear whether other types of articles such as interviews, witness accounts, chronicles, editorials, etc. are taken into account. In fact, they probably are not since these texts would be likely to contain many first-person pronouns and verb endings while journalistic discourse is often presented as being in the third person with an objective (if not impersonal) tone.4 French press corpora are often based on the daily ‘quality’ broadsheet Le Monde (which also has the advantage of being available online and on CD-ROMs). Other newspapers (and more rarely magazines) are sometimes added but although scholars acknowledge the theoretical need for discrimination between different (sub)genres, they do not often respect it in practice.5 The problem is that, while a journal like Le Monde purports to be objective and is therefore mostly impersonal, other newspapers and magazines are obviously not so. Women’s magazines, for example, pay a lot of attention to their readers, frequently addressing them as vous (‘you’) or including them in a generic nous (‘we’), while more polemically political publications, such as the weekly Marianne, tend to refer to their editorial team as authorial nous (‘we’). These details are important since, as will be shown, S&TP strategies influence the persona of the journalist and/or the reader’s involvement. Most studies concentrate on the use of Direct Discourse either in discussing its function in terms of faithfulness, vividness, and authenticity or in analysing Mixed Discourses as a trend that displaces the indirect mode in favour of the direct mode. Indeed, Mixed Discourse is often viewed as principally being ‘direct’ and other forms such as Neutral Discourse or Indirect Discourse within quotation marks are ignored.6 Some works also deal with verbum dicendi (rarely verbum sentiendi) or with Narrated Speech (rarely Narrated Thoughts).7 Very little attention is given to Indirect and Free Indirect Discourses. In fact, Le Monde is far from having the largest readership (405983 copies bought in 2001). The most popular newspaper in France is Ouest France, a regional daily broadsheet (773549 copies). Moreover, less elitist publications such as Paris Match (738385) and Voici (577260), both weekly magazines, have a bigger diffusion. My corpus is composed of thirteen different newspapers and magazines bought on Thursday 11 July 2002 (see Figure 18 and Appendix 4 for more details). I categorised these publications in four groups, based on their types and contents: 1. gossip magazines: Gala, Ici Paris, Voici; 2. women’s magazines: Elle, Marie-Claire; 3. news magazines: Marianne, Le Nouvel Observateur, Paris-Match, Le Soir Magazine; 4. newspapers: Le Figaro, Libération, Le Monde, Le Soir.

Contemporary written press 

Figure 18. Press corpus Title (by alphabetical order)

Type

Topic

Issues sold 2001 (*2000) Elle weekly Women 341079 Gala weekly Gossip & Stars 275151 Ici Paris weekly Gossip & Stars 454730 Le Figaro daily Politics, economy, society, etc. Right wing 366529 Le Monde daily Politics, economy, society, etc. ‘Neutral’ 405983 Le Nouvel Observateur weekly Politics, economy, society, etc. Left wing 536217 Le Soir daily Politics, economy, society, etc. ‘Neutral’ 122533* Le Soir Magazine weekly Politics, economy, society, etc. ‘Neutral’ 83 919* Libération daily Politics, economy, society, etc. Left wing 171551 Marianne weekly Politics, economy, society, etc. Polemical (no party line) Marie Claire monthly Women 478719 (Marie Claire Belgique) (22 488) Paris Match weekly Stars and society, some politics and 738385 (called Libre Match in economy (33 422) Belgium since 2001) Voici weekly Gossip and stars 577260

This classification was subsequently backed up by my analysis of S&TP strategies, as will be shown later, but I also found some interesting links between categories, notably (and predictably) between news magazines and newspapers.8 I have primarily studied the use of S&TP in news articles of all kinds, ranging from gossip sections, short news items to discussions about sexual problems, documentaries and political and economical analyses, etc. My analysis is both statistical (counting reported discourses by categories and types) and qualitative (examining the contexts and co-texts of S&TP).9 Although they are far from being homogeneous, these articles are mostly in the third person, with the occasional occurrence of editorial nous (‘we’) or addresses to the reader. They combine narrative, argumentative and explicative sequences. I have also looked at interviews and texts in the first person (e.g. witness accounts, editorials, political opinions, diaries, etc.) but that approach is more qualitative and aimed at understanding the overall strategies of the various magazines. I have not analysed other texts such as sport sections, fashion and shopping items, culture sections (books, movies, music, TV reviews, etc.), lifestyle tips (beauty, health, law, etc.), horoscopes, readers’ letters, agony aunt sections, games, etc.10 Of course, these particular items would also be very interesting to study but in my opinion this might be better done on a direct comparison genre by genre

 Part II, Chapter 4

(e.g. a study of all the book reviews or of all the horoscopes) rather than by mixing everything together rather indiscriminately. The media in general, and the press in particular, can be said to involve at least three main activities: – – –

illustrating and building shared values between the newspaper/magazine (represented by the journalist’s voice) and the reader (ideological sphere) entertaining (affectivity sphere) informing and teaching about the world (intellectual sphere)

Each element is present in all newspapers and magazines although some clearly answer certain needs more than others. It is hard to quantify the intellectual learning offered by gossip magazines such as Voici, Gala and Ici Paris or for, that matter, the entertainment value of Le Monde. However, the first three do offer serious health files and book reviews and the latter contains television and movie reviews sections. S&TP can be used in relation to any of these categories and here are a few examples for each of them: – Sharing values: Journalists can qualify the words they are reporting through their use of specific verba dicendi and sentiendi thereby signalling the position of their newspapers (approval, disapproval, doubts) and/or positing these discourses within a argumentative sequence. When using Indirect and Free Indirect Discourses, they can even add some irony to the speech they are reporting, thereby adding a certain complicity with the reader. Moreover, the use of S&TP allows for a patchwork of opinions that the journalists do not have to take responsibility for (especially if they are reported in Direct Discourse). – Entertaining: By quoting the words of celebrities instead of their actions only, journalists bring their world closer to the readers. This is especially the case with Direct Discourse, which is supposed to reproduce the actual speech of the person in question thereby allowing for readers’ involvement (it is almost as if the readers were actually transported into the star’s world). On the other hand, the use of irony in the text framing reported speech or thoughts might equally be entertaining as are the allusions to what the readers might say or think about a certain situation. – Informing and teaching: Discursive events (i.e. events in which the inclusion of speech or speeches is one of their defining characteristics such as political rallies, negotiation, declarations, etc.) are reported by journalists as facts amongst other events that are part of everyday news. Moreover, by reporting the words of experts on certain topics, journalists also impart to their readers

Contemporary written press 

deeper knowledge, often complementing these quotes by paraphrasing them in layman’s terms. As these few examples show, it is difficult to isolate one activity from the other. For example, politically oriented newspapers are supposed both to inform the readers and to present them with a common political view of the world.11 Similarly women’s magazines offer the readers a certain image of the Woman while entertaining and informing them. In other words, S&TP strategies can be connected to Halliday’s multifunctional view of text (Halliday 1978, as used in Fairclough 1995: 17). S&TP plays a part in the representation of the world and the building of knowledge, belief and ideology, which is what Halliday calls the ideational function of text. However it is also inextricably linked to the building of relations and identities between the publication’s persona (as represented by the journalist’s voice) and the implicit reader, what Halliday terms the interpersonal function. The ideational and the interpersonal functions of S&TP both encompass complex levels. First, there are several representations of the world involved, that of the journalist quoting (thus representing a speech event), that of the source quoted (a person or a document) with the added possibilities of many intermediaries: e.g. a journalist referring to a source that quotes a person as saying X (see (19) below). Second, the relationship and identities built by the text are manifold: it is not only the relationship between the journalist-locutor and the reader but also the relationship between the journalist and the person quoted and possibly the relationship between that person and his/her interlocutors (if they are other than the journalist). Finally, it is also important to underline the textual function of S&TP, i.e. the fact that it can be used to structure the text. Tuomarla (2000: 184) notes the often strategic position of Direct Discourse at the opening or the closing of a paragraph, i.e. to signal a change of topic or to summarise a topic before switching to the next one. Of course, Direct Discourse is inherently salient because it is both typographically and morphosyntactically demarcated from the text, (quotation marks, non-transposition of person, tense and deictics). But it is also, in most publications, less used than Narrated Discourse and even sometimes than Indirect Discourse. Therefore, its ‘rarity’ reinforces its markedness value in the text and thus foregrounds the speech (or thought) event in question.12

 Part II, Chapter 4

. Gossip magazines Gossip magazines obviously focus on entertainment, either by showing pictures of celebrities and reporting their words and actions or by exploring intriguing mysteries (crimes, unexplained suicides, etc.). The journalist’s voice, far from being objective, is often playful and sometimes judgmental (although these judgements are certainly not constant in time) and there is a strong emphasis on the reader’s involvement. There are numerous addresses to the reader, exclamations, questions, and wishes for the future of such and such a celebrity. Although one would expect Direct Discourse to be massively employed in that subgenre, it is not. First of all, the three gossip magazines have less reported discourses and less Narrated Discourses than any other magazine of the corpus.13 Second, in Voici and Ici Paris, Direct Discourse is less frequent than Indirect Discourse plus Free Indirect Discourse while these two numbers of occurrences are roughly equal in Gala.14 Thirdly, in Voici and Ici Paris, Direct Discourse is also less frequent than Narrated Discourse and these two numbers of occurrences are again similar in Gala.15 In fact, a large amount of the material used in the magazines is recycled from other magazines (notably for everything that has to do with American stars) or from what stars said on television. (1) Ici Paris, Jenifer, p. 5. Mais leur histoire est désormais terminée. “Mon copain ne comprenait pas forcément ce qui m’arrivait, dit-elle dans Gala. Il ne voulait pas me suivre dans mes déplacements. Par rapport à moi, il avait un complexe d’infériorité. Ça peut se comprendre. Je n’ai pas le droit de faire souffrir ceux qui m’aiment. J’ai vu le moment où j’allais le faire souffrir, poursuitelle encore dans Paris-Match. J’ai préféré tout arrêter.” [But their story is now over. “My boyfriend did not necessarily understand what was happening to me, she says in Gala. He did not want to follow me on my travels. He had an inferiority complex with regards to me. It is understandable. I have no right to make the ones I love suffer. I saw the moment when I was going to make him suffer, she continues in Paris Match. I preferred to stop everything.”] (2) Voici, Le Grand Déballage, p. 43 A la question de Thierry Ardisson, sous l’oeil des caméras de l’émission Tout le monde en parle, Jean-Luc Anglade lance: “J’ai été violé à l’âge de 13 ans.” Le public est médusé. [To Thierry Ardisson’s question, in front of the TV cameras of the show

Contemporary written press 

Everybody talks about it, Jean-Luc Anglade blurts out: “I was raped when I was 13 years old.” The audience is dumbfounded.]

Because a lot of stories are not grounded on the magazines’ direct reporting and because gossip is based on rumours and hearsay, it is difficult and even unrealistic to be able to quote the real words of the stars, especially in very short articles. Moreover French stars have become very touchy about what is reported about them and quoting their words without their permission could be seen as legally dangerous.16 This lack of authoritative sources and the need to obliterate the fact that, in many cases, journalists quote from a secondary source (what somebody said somebody said. . .) make it easier to report things in an indirect way either through Indirect Discourse or Narrated Discourse. The recycling is less intensive in Gala, which might explain the higher use of Direct Discourse.17 Note that this magazine is actually quoted by Ici Paris in the interesting Direct Discourse patchwork of example (1). The magazines are not averse to imagining what stars think (based on their behaviour) or to converse artificially with them (on behalf of the reader of course!). (3) Voici, on the cover with a picture of Patrick Bruel with his girlfriend (my emphasis) Elle veut l’épouser, lui HÉSITE encore DIS-LUI OUI, Patrick! [She wants to marry him, he IS still HESITATING TELL HER YES, Patrick!] (4) Voici, Patrick Bruel et Amanda, p. 19. Depuis un an, en effet, Amanda, 24 printemps, fait craquer notre chanteur. Et pour fêter cet anniversaire, le couple s’est offert, fin juin, des vacances ensoleillées en Sardaigne. Des vacances pour prendre du bon temps, bien sûr. Mais également réfléchir. A la vie à deux. A ce que cela implique comme engagement. Car Patrick, aussi sympa et tendre soit-il, est, face à l’idée de mariage, pris de vertige. Comme bon nombre d’hommes, il a à la fois envie de s’abandonner, de connaître la fascinante et périlleuse aventure de la vie à deux. . . Et comme bon nombre d’hommes, il craint également de perdre ce petit quelque chose d’indépendance et de légèreté que l’on connaît quand on a mené une adolescence prolongée . . . [For a year, indeed, he has been in love with Amanda, 24 summers. And to celebrate this anniversary, the couple treated themselves to a sunny break in Sardinia, at the end of June. Vacations to have a good time, of course. But also to think. To life as a couple. To what type of commitment

 Part II, Chapter 4

it involves. Because Patrick, as kind and tender as he might be, becomes dizzy when facing the idea of marriage. As a good many men, he both wants to let himself go, to know the fascinating and perilous adventure of life as a couple. . . And as a good many men, he also fears to loose that little bit of independence and lightness that one knows when one has lived a prolonged adolescence . . . ] (5) Gala, Lolo Ferrari: la mal-aimée, p. 42 “Pourquoi aurais-je tué ma femme, se défend-t-il. Je l’aimais, elle était mon gagne pain.” On pourrait lui rétorquer qu’elle avait cessé de l’être puisqu’elle ne rapportait plus rien. On pourrait même dire qu’il avait commencé à la détruire le jour de leur rencontre. On pourrait ÉVOQUER, aussi, cette peur de la vie et cette envie de mourir qui, même au temps de sa gloire, n’ont jamais quitté Lolo Ferrari. . . [“Why would I have killed my wife, he contends. I loved her, she was my livelihood.” One could argue back that she was not anymore since she no longer made any money. One could also say that he began to destroy her on the day they met. One could MENTION, too, the fear of life and the longing to die that, even in her heydays, never left Lolo Ferrari.]

Although in the three magazines, reported speech is statistically more important than reported thought, the ratio is not as high as in other publications (except for Marianne).18 As can be seen in (3) and (4) above, thoughts are mostly reported in Indirect Discourse or Narrated Discourse but never in Direct Discourse. Free Indirect Speech and Thought are rare in these texts but they do exist (11 FIS and 2 FIT). (6) Ici Paris, Ophélie Winter, p. 8 (italics are used for FID) Au point que, mi-juin, certains journaux ANNONCENT officiellement leur séparation. Leur belle love story n’aurait duré que cinq petits mois et la jeune femme après avoir décidé de mettre un terme à leur histoire, serait de nouveau un coeur à prendre. . . En fait, la chanteuse et le comique n’ont jamais cessé de s’aimer. [To the point that, mid-June, some newspapers officially ANNOUNCE their separation. [According to those], their nice love story had lasted only five short months and the young woman, after deciding to end their story, was again a free heart up for grab. . . In fact, the singer and the comedian never stopped loving each other. . . ]

Contemporary written press 

. Women’s magazines Women’s magazines, as exemplified in my corpus, aim to involve their female readers, through identification with a specific ideology presenting a certain type of woman and her lifestyle (real or idealised). These magazines devote less space to news articles (news, documentary, analysis), interviews and firstperson texts (witness account, editorial, viewpoints) than other publications do.19 This is because they focus on a complete ‘lifestyle experience’ rather than specific news (be they gossip or political events). So they also put a lot of emphasis on fashion, practical tips, culture (movie and book reviews, etc.), cooking, tourism, horoscopes, etc. All these elements help to define the Woman they are about and allow the reader to become that Woman. Moreover, through their use of interviews, witness accounts and articles containing a lot of Direct Discourses, women’s magazines present a multiplicity of voices (i.e. a polyphonic discourse) in which the female reader participates, either because she can recognise her own voice or because she feels that she is part of the conversation. Indeed, the strong connection between the female reader and the magazine persona is illustrated on the very covers of both magazines, which use the first and the second persons (see boxes in (7), (8)). (7) Marie-Claire, Cover page Enfin j’aime mon corps Quatre femmes reconciliées avec leur nudité Astrologie indienne L’été de tous vos désirs [At last I love my body / Four women reconciled with their nudity Indian astrology / The summer of all / Your desires] (8) Elle, Cover page Mode Qu’est-ce que je mets sur mon maillot? [Fashion / What do I wear on my swim suit?]

The use of the second person plural vous is an obvious way to address the reader directly and it often occurs inside the magazines, notably in Elle’s editorial or in articles such as “Pack for the summer with Mireille” (Elle) or “Light up your suntan” (Marie-Claire). As such it is connected to the first person plural nous representing the editorial board, which is also frequent. However the use of first

 Part II, Chapter 4

persons singular je on the cover, in what appear to be Free Direct Discourses, is subtler. This je can refer to several entities (e.g. the women reconciled with their bodies in (7) and the models of the fashion section in (8)) but it can certainly also be filled by the reader herself, thereby becoming the locutor of the Free Direct Speech on the page.20 Since both magazines constantly play on the potential involvement of the reader, it is not surprising that they are amongst the publications that contain the highest number of Direct Discourses.21 Furthermore, they are the only magazines, with Gala, where Direct Discourse is more frequent than any other type of S&TP (whether Indirect Discourse or Narrated Discourse). As with the je occurrences on the covers, female readers can take over the je of the Direct Discourses, i.e. identify with it , live through it in a way not very dissimilar to the relationship built with characters in novels. By reading the actual words of the other, the reader can also recognise facets of herself. What is important here is not so much to hold the truth (what it was exactly that the person said) but rather to experience the story through the actual words of the person telling it. Indeed, as Collins (2001: 67–8) notes, the verbatimness of Direct Discourse relates to what “the addressee, as fictive witness of the reported speech event, is supposed, in effect, to experience”. Here, the function of Direct Discourse is not far from what Tannen (1989: 133) describes for the spoken language: Dialogue [i.e. what I call Direct Discourse] is not a general report; it is particular, and the particular enables listeners (or readers) to create their understanding by drawing on their own history of associations. By giving voice to characters, dialogue makes story into drama and listeners into an interpreting audience to the drama. This active participation in sensemaking contributes to the creation of involvement. Thus understanding in discourse is in part emotional.

The potential for reader’s ‘experience’ and ‘involvement’ is particularly well illustrated in articles entitled “I, reader” (Marie-Claire) or “It’s my story” (Elle), where the whole articles are first-person accounts of anonymous readers in their own words. As a matter of fact, one could consider these witness stories as long reported discourses inserted in the magazines and the same is true for interviews. The use of Direct Discourse in ‘third-person’ articles can also be clearly linked to a call for reader’s identification. For example, in the discussions about sex that are a staple of women’s magazines, Direct Discourses can report the words of the experts, thereby legitimizing the arguments. However, they also often present witnesses accounts about the question. For these witnesses, we are given first names, ages and professions but no last name. Each

Contemporary written press 

of them represents an experience and a point of view but their real identity is not useful. Their actual words are thus not rendered in Direct Discourse because they were really uttered (i.e. we could check whether or not they match the original discourse) but rather because they are authentic: they portray a verisimilar attitude towards the topic. Instead of only offering a distanced discussion of the actual problem (what are the proper words to refer to sexual intercourse in Elle, or what men want to know about women’s sexual pleasure in Marie-Claire), the magazines allow their readers to recognise themselves in certain discourses or even sometimes to read what they think but would not dare to say themselves. (9) Elle, Faire l’amour, le retour du sentiment, p. 55 Ainsi sur la ligne sexe-amour, certains se situent à l’extrémité inverse. “Ce qui m’intéresse dans le sexe, raconte Lola, 35 ans, c’est la rencontre avec l’autre. Pour moi, faire l’amour, c’est un moyen de communication, pas un rapport de forces. C’est seulement ainsi que j’arrive à jouir vraiment.” D’après les spécialistes, faire l’amour représente “une quête d’absolu”, qui ferait peur – c’est peu de le dire – aux praticiens de la “baise pour la baise”. [Thus on the line sex-love, some stand on the opposite end. “What is of interest to me in sex, tells Lola, 35 years old, is meeting the other. For me, making love is a way to communicate, not a power struggle. It is only in that way that I manage to really have an orgasm.” According to experts, making love represent a “quest for absolutes” that frightens – it is an understatement – the adepts of “sex for the sake of sex”.

Next to regular interviews listing questions and answers, women’s magazines also present narrative texts where the words of the interviewee are integrated as Direct Discourses. These words are juxtaposed to the narration of the interview process itself (she smiles, she waves her hands, etc.) and interspersed with the story of the interviewee either in the present tense or in the past. Here questions do not interrupt the flow of the narrative and often there is no verbum dicendi because we know that the Direct Discourses will automatically be these of the interviewee.22 The readers can experience the interview ‘as if they were there’ but also gradually blend into the interviewee’s story as well as her own words.23 (10) Marie-Claire, Portrait: Anne Parillaud sex-pose, p. 32 [. . .] Anne Parillaud est superbe. Catherine Breillat l’a mise à nu et en danger, lui A DEMANDÉ son âme. Elle est venue chambouler l’équilibre d’une actrice trop longtemps verrouillée: “Depuis que je suis toute petite, je vis un décalage entre

 Part II, Chapter 4

l’intérieur et l’extérieur. Je l’ai utilisé, je vis dans cet état.” Ses mains fines bougent quand elle PARLE, se posent parfois sur son ventre, ses tripes. [[. . .] Anne Parillaud is superb. Catherine Breillat exposed her and endangered her, ASKED her for her soul. She came to shake up the balance of an actress that kept locked inside herself for too long: “Since I was very little, I have felt a discrepancy between inside and outside. I have used it, I live that way.” Her slender hands move when she SPEAKS, sometimes touch her belly, her guts.]

Marie-Claire offers yet another way to turn the interview into a narrative with a section entitled “24 hours with. . .”: the reader goes through the day of a personality, thereby experiencing her life (in the present tense) and her words as the day goes by. The article is accompanied by a series of chronological pictures. In Elle, there is a similar type of article called “A day with” where the personality describes her day in the first person. (11) Marie-Claire, 24 heures de la vie d’une femme: Françoise Menidrey, p. 101. 13 heures Déjeuner sur le pouce. Tout en grignotant son rouleau de printemps, Françoise regrette qu’en France, son métier ne soit pas davantage reconnu: “Ici n’importe qui peut s’improviser directeur de casting. Le métier n’a pas d’existence légale. [. . . ]” [A quick bite to eat. While nibbling her springroll, Françoise regrets that in France, her profession is not better recognised: “Here anybody can act as a casting director. The profession has no legal existence. . . . ]”]

If the need for more indirect modes of reporting discourse is less important in women’s magazines, so is the need to modalise the discourse with expressions such as d’après X or selon X (‘according to X’) and the use of ‘press conditional’, which are much more present in news magazines and newspapers. Moreover, I found only 2 examples of Free Indirect Discourse, one in each magazine, which is far fewer than in any other publication (except Le Nouvel Observateur). Once again, what counts is the materiality of the words which, in order to be reappropriated must not be diluted within another discourse but given tels quels. The difference in use between reported speech and reported thought is more drastic than in other magazines (except Le Nouvel Observateur), particularly when compared to gossip magazines such as Voici and Ici Paris.24 Obviously, like in a ‘real conversation’, if the reader has access to the actual words of the discourse participants, there is less need for her to learn about

Contemporary written press 

what these people think or imagine. While Indirect and Narrated Thoughts are almost a necessary tool for gossip magazines in order to supply for the missing Direct Speeches of the celebrities, it is not so in women’s magazines. This illustrates crucial differences between these two magazine genres. In gossip magazines, the complicity with readers is based on getting access to the world of celebrities. As spectators, we simply reconstruct their lives through what we see on the pictures and hear from rumours and we wish them luck or send them advice from afar (e.g. ‘Tell her yes, Patrick’ in (3) above). The magazine persona is our ‘accomplice’, our facilitator in trying to reach the celebrities (as illustrated in the readers’ mail where most letters ask the magazine how to get in touch with such or such star). When there are interviews, we become privileged spectators, entering in a world where we would not otherwise be allowed. On the contrary, readers of women’s magazines are potential participants in the dialogue taking place: they are either interlocutors (vous ‘you’) or even sometimes speaker (je ‘I’, see (7), (8) supra). The complicity with the magazine persona is based on sharing the same world (or pretending to) and taking on or relating to the different personalities presented in the magazine.25 Readers are less spectators than actors. Finally one also notes some differences in strategies between the two women’s magazines. Marie-Claire, which is a monthly, offers two documentaries of several pages. In these two articles, there are more Narrated Discourses than in the rest of the magazine as well as fewer pictures, a trend closer to news magazines (see infra). Of course the identification phenomenon is still at work since the title of the first documentary contains the word mère ‘mother’ and the second has the word femmes (‘women’) followed by a first-person pronoun, both of which can lead to possible identification and involvement by the female reader.26 Elle is a weekly and as such does not offer as many different articles as Marie-Claire. Instead of long documentaries, it favours shorter news items that are more topical. Moreover, as its image is younger and trendier than Marie-Claire, it takes more liberties and is more creative with language, using more Mixed Discourses as well as more Free Direct Discourses with regards to the overall number of reported discourses than Marie-Claire and indeed than most other magazines.27 It also has a comic strip and a humorous series based on a fictional email dialogue between friends.

 Part II, Chapter 4

. News magazines Contrary to the other publications in the corpus, the news magazines do not form an entirely homogeneous group. This is because their contents differ. Paris Match gives more importance to gossip and celebrities and as such is closer to Gala but it also includes significant amount of more ‘serious news’: documentary on Romanian homeless in Paris, political and economical news items and analyses. It offers a large amount of pictures, as is underlined in its motto: Le poids des mots, le choc des photos (‘The weight of words, the shock of pictures’). Le Soir Magazine is rather similar in content but it contains fewer pictures, is much less glossy and offers TV programs. Marianne and Le Nouvel Observateur are more geared towards society, politics and economics. They do not have any items about celebrities and contain fewer pictures than the other magazines.28 Marianne uses a lot of drawings and caricatures instead of real photographs, probably to cut costs, since it is a more recent publication, with less financing from the advertising industry. Both magazines also have explicit political views and devote several sections to personal opinions and editorials. In that sense they are closer to newspapers and less similar to the two other magazines of the group. A further way to categorise the four magazines would thus be to distinguish ‘soft news magazines’ from ‘hard news magazines’. This distinction is clearly relevant in terms of S&TP strategies. Paris-Match and Le Soir Magazine have a lower amount of overall Reported and Narrated Discourses (less than 5.1 per 1000 words compared to more than 9 for Marianne and Le Nouvel Observateur). They have also have lower amounts of press conditional and of modalisation in selon, d’après, pour (‘according to’). In other words, they simply tend to quote people less. In counterpart, as I have noted above, pictures are given more prominence, especially in Paris-Match. Therefore, in a similar way to gossip magazines, ‘soft news’ magazines seem to pay more importance to actions rather than speech, a specificity that is well illustrated in their gossip columns. Magazines like Paris-Match and Le Soir Magazine contain two types of gossip: entertainment gossip similar to those found in gossip magazines and political gossip, the only type allowed in ‘hard news’ magazines such as Marianne and Le Nouvel Observateur. In comparison to celebrities’ gossip, political gossip contain much more Reported Discourses and Narrated Discourses,29 especially in their titles, as is shown in examples (12) and (13) below. Indeed, politicians are more known for what they say than what they do, while celebrities are more famous for their work (as singers, actors, film directors, etc.) and their way of life (style, love affairs, etc.) than for what they say. This is also why celebrities gossip are often centred on a partic-

Contemporary written press 

ular picture, describing it and commenting on it, while political gossip use less pictures and when they do, it is more as an add-on than as a centre piece. (12) Le Nouvel Observateur, p. 40 [below the article is a picture of Michel Hunault] Taisez-vous Hunault! Dominique Perben A TÉLÉPHONÉ deux fois la semaine dernière à Michel Hunault, député UMP-RPR Loire-Atlantique, pour lui demander de se taire. Hunault a en effet défrayé la chronique en expliquant sur France-Inter que “la question des délits politico-financiers se poserait dans la plus grande transparence” au moment de l’examen de la loi de programmation de la Justice, fin juillet. Le ministre de la Justice lui a signifié que ses déclarations étaient mal venues. (Highlighting is mine). [Be quiet Hunault! Dominique Perben CALLED Michel Hunault, deputy UMP-RPR for Loire-Atlantique twice last week to ask him to stop speaking. Hunault indeed was the talk of the town when he explained on France-Inter that “the question of politico-financial offences would be dealt with the greatest openness” during the examination of the planning law on Justice, at the end of July. The minister of Justice informed him that his declarations were not welcome.] (13) Paris-Match, p. 89 [Alongside the article is a picture of Liz Hurley with her baby followed by Hugh Grant] Liz Hurley baptise son bébé. A trois mois, Damian Charles entre dans la cour des grands! Pour son baptème, dimanche dernier, sa maman, la comédienne Liz Hurley, avait réuni tout le show-business: Elton John, David et Victoria Beckham, Elle MacPherson et Patsy Kensit. Il ne manquait à ce petit tableau de famille que le papa du petit Damian, le producteur américain Steve Bing, séparé de Liz. Mais Hugh Grant, lui, était au premier rang. Il n’a jamais été aussi fidèle à Liz que depuis qu’ils sont séparés. (Highlighting by the magazine) [Liz Hurley christens her baby. Three-month old Damian enters the big league! For his christening, last Sunday, his mommy, the actress Liz Hurley, gathered the whole of show business: Elton John, David and Victoria Beckham, Elle MacPherson and Patsy Kensit. The only one missing to this nice family picture was little Damian’s dad, the American producer Steve Bing, separated from Liz. But

 Part II, Chapter 4

as for Hugh Grant, he was in the front row. He has never been as faithful to Liz than since they parted.]

Predictably what distinguishes ‘hard news’ magazines from ‘soft news’ magazines is what they have in common with newspapers: higher numbers of occurrences of Reported and Narrated Discourses, more press conditional and modalisation in selon, d’après, pour (‘according to’), more Mixed Discourses, more textual islets, etc.30 However, in most cases, the number of occurrences is higher in newspapers (especially in Le Monde, Libération and Le Figaro but less so in Le Soir). Moreover, there are also a few essential differences. For example, although these magazines use fewer occurrences of Direct Discourse than newspapers do, they give more importance to it with regard to other types of reported discourses and Narrated Discourses (30% and more, except for Marianne 18%, compared to less than 27% (15% for Le Soir)). Mixed Discourses is also less preponderant in comparison to other types of S&TP (less than 1 per 1000 words, 10% and less, but Le Soir 0.8 per 1000 words and 9%). As I will develop in the next section, these differences might be due to the circumstances that surround both editing and reading processes of weekly magazines compared to daily newspapers. In others words, it has to do with time management. For all their differences, the four magazines do show several common S&TP strategies that distinguish them from the other groups. With regards to the overall use of reported discourse, they have a higher percentage of Narrated Discourses than the other magazines but lower than in newspapers.31 In fact, like newspapers, all four news magazines contain more Narrated Discourses than Indirect Discourses (predominant in Ici Paris and Voici) or Direct Discourses (predominant in Gala, Elle and Marie-Claire). But they show higher numbers of references to journalists or readers’ reported discourses (except Paris-Match).32 Like other magazines, they give more importance to Reported and Narrated Thought than newspapers (11%–14% versus 3%–8%). In other words, because they are at least partly about ‘serious news items’, all news magazines treat speech presentation as central pieces of information, not as secondary and slightly problematic material for entertainment (gossip magazines) or as a primary way of dialoguing with the reader (women’s magazines). Like newspapers, news magazines, tend to integrate other’s words as Narrated Discourses within their own discourses while also using Direct Discourse and Mixed Discourses as specific tools for authentication, vividness and textual organization, as will be shown in the next section. However, because they lack the newspapers’ constraints of time and exhaustiveness, news magazines can

Contemporary written press 

afford to put their own discourse on stage, in argumentative sequences (14), (15). They can also venture to report thoughts rather than speech only. These thoughts appear within argumentative sequences, often highlighting the journalist’s own opinions and hypotheses (15). (14) Marianne, La gauche “raffarinée”, p. 26 Et quand le président du group parlementaire PS, Jean-Marc Ayraut dénonce “la France de Pompidou”, on se dit que ça fait décidément beaucoup pour les flatteries. [And when the president of the socialist parliamentary group, Jean-Marc Ayraut denounces “the France of Pompidou”, we tell ourselves that it is really too much flattery.] (15) Le Nouvel Observateur, Justice: le naufrage du sang contaminé, p. 66 Qui peut croire que la solution consiste à substituer le pouvoir politique et la communication spectaculaire à l’exercice serein de l’autorité judiciaire? Mais force est de constater qu’une solution semble de plus en plus inaccessible. ENTENDONS-nous bien: il ne s’agit nullement de RÉCLAMER des sanctions exemplaires contre les 30 personnes mises en examen par le juge d’instruction, Marie-Odile Bertella-Geoffroy. Mais depuis les premières PLAINTES déposées en 1988, des faits cruciaux ont été établis. [Who can believe that the solution is to substitute political power and showy communication for the serene exercise of judiciary authority? However there is no choice but to note that a solution seems more and more out of reach. It goes without saying that it is not necessary to REQUEST exemplary sanctions against the 30 people indicted by the examining magistrate, Marie-Odile Bertella-Geoffroy. However since the first COMPLAINTS lodged in 1988, some crucial facts were established.]

These thoughts also surface within narrative sequences in long articles that ‘historicise’ certain topics by going back to their origin and evolution instead of focussing only on the present like newspapers tend to do.33 (16) Marianne, Bin Laden et la menace nucléaire, p. 33 Séduit par les cristaux brillants, – de la taille d’un grain de riz – de cette poudre bleue, il décide de les garder , puis en distribue aux membres de sa famille et à ses amis, pensant, sans doute, qu’il s’agissait d’une sorte de pierre précieuse. [Attracted by the bright crystals, – the size of a grain of rice – of this blue powder, he decides to keep them, then distributes some of them

 Part II, Chapter 4

to his family and his friends, perhaps thinking that it was some kind of precious stone.] (17) Le Nouvel Observateur, Vivendi Universal: ceux qui ont fermé les yeux, p. 59 Il y a quatre ans, quand J2M se met en tête d’absorber Havas pour transformer la vieille Compagnie Générale des Eaux en bolide de la communication, les autorités boursières lui déroulent le tapis rouge. [Four years ago, when J2M takes it into his head to absorb Havas in order to transform the old Compagnie Générale des Eaux into a high-powered communication company, the stock market authorities roll out the red carpet for him.]

. Newspapers34 More than other publications, newspapers and ‘hard news’ magazines describe and in some cases analyse specific news events. A lot of these events are discursive in nature, e.g. political speeches, declarations by a particular person (accusation, confession, question, etc.). Other events, while not discursive per se (e.g. crime, accident, war, etc.), are unlikely to be based on the journalist’s own experience of them but rather on others’ discourses about them, i.e. witness accounts, press agencies reports, written reports of all kinds, press conferences, spokespersons speaking in the name of specific authorities, etc.35 In that sense, most of the material is actually ‘processed reported discourse’, i.e. although its sources are discourses others than the journalist’s, they are not acknowledged as such but exposed as a series of simple facts. There is thus an alternation between events presented as discourses and discourses presented as events. This explains that one of the journalist’s favourite tool is Narrated Discourse since this particular type of S&TP allows to integrate reported discourses effortlessly within the narrative or argumentative sequence (without the need for subordination) while maximally condensing them if necessary. In doing so, Narrated Discourse tends to equate S&TP to other events.36 In (18) for example, verbs such as to condemn and to judge involve both discourse and other actions while to offer refers only to discourse and to exclude, in this context, means to take a series of administrative steps (cancelling salaries, erasing the name from the listings, etc.). However, each verb is placed at the same level thanks to Narrated Discourse.

Contemporary written press 

(18) Le Monde, Dépêches, p. 11 Justice: un fonctionnaire de la police aux frontières de Coquelles (Pas de Calais) A ÉTÉ CONDAMNÉ à un an de prison ferme pour corruption passive, par le tribunal de Boulogne-sur-Mer pour AVOIR PROPOSÉ à une réfugiée du centre de Sangatte un rapport sexuel en échange d’un passage en Angleterre (Le Monde du 24 juillet 2000). Le policier, qui A ÉTÉ JUGÉ jeudi dernier, a été définitivement exclu de la fonction publique. [Justice: a police officer of the border patrol in Coquelle (Pas de Calais) WAS CONDEMNED to one year ‘s imprisonment for passive corruption, by the tribunal of Boulogne-sur-Mer, because he HAD OFFERED sexual intercourse to a refugee of the Sangatte centre in exchange for a crossing to England (Le Monde 24 July 2000). The police officer, who WAS JUDGED last Thursday, was definitively expelled from the civil service.]

Journalists have to write their newspaper articles very quickly and they must constantly adapt their writing to the ongoing events, a rhythm that is different from that of news magazines. Apart from a few exceptions (longer articles on a special topic), newspaper items can not be investigated at great length and they are based on news agencies, on press conferences, on items seen on TV (e.g. CNN) and on archives. Furthermore, contrary to magazines, newspapers must also be exhaustive: they constitute a reference for other publications or people in general and are supposed to present all that is newsworthy on a specific day as well as people reactions to it (often expressed with S&TP). Hence the necessity for quick gathering of news with the help of special correspondents and press agencies. Newspapers with a smaller budget like Le Soir tend to use the latter rather than the former. Therefore, while the need for exhaustiveness would seem to call for a maximal use of Direct Discourses (deemed to be more authentic), time constraints explain the newspapers’ preference for more indirect modes, i.e. Narrated Discourse and Indirect Discourse, as well as modalisation in selon X and the like. These modes enable the journalist both to condense the reported discourses and to conceal the fact that they do not come from a primary source. For example, in the following excerpt taken from Le Figaro (19), there is a great need for authentic speech since Raffarin was at the time the new right wing prime minister and his words were truly important for any reader of Le Figaro, especially when preaching union between rightwing parties. However this need is balanced by the impossibility of hearing his words directly as is clumsily indicated by the two uses of selon. The Direct Discourses are thus actually those of the witnesses reporting the speech of the prime minister to the journalist who was not allowed to attend the meeting.

 Part II, Chapter 4

The use of Narrated Discourses with syntagms in quotations marks coupled with the modaliser selon erases this double embedding. It is the same thing for the occurrences of Mixed Discourses such as the DD with que found in the excerpt (underlined + bold).37 (19) Le Figaro, Raffarin propose un “pacte de loyauté” à l’UMP, p. 538 A la fois convivial sur la forme et ferme sur le fond, Jean-Pierre Raffarin A SOULIGNÉ l’importance de “la solidarité (des députés UMP) avec le gouvernement qui est le socle sur lequel se bâtit le projet pour la France”, selon les PROPOS TENUS par Jacques Barrot et son premier vice-président, Bernard Accoyer, à l’issue de cette réunion d’une heure et quart. Le premier ministre, qui assistera régulièrement aux réunions du groupe, a aussi affirmé que “cette majorité nous donne des responsabilités, mais aussi des chances extraordinaires”. Il A INSISTÉ sur la “lisibilité de l’action du gouvernement” et sur “l’urgence” des travaux de cette session extraordinaire. Car “le gouvernement a trouvé un Etat délabré” et “une sécurité non assurée”, selon les propos du premier ministre rapportés par un participant. INTERROGÉ sur le fond, Jean-Pierre Raffarin a encore eu cette petite phrase: “Il y a du flou parce qu’il y a eu cinq ans de socialisme. Il nous faut du temps pour remettre de l’ordre.” Jean-Pierre Raffarin A ÉVOQUÉ les “dossiers prioritaires” (sécurité, justice) “avec une promesse de résultats, et non de moyens”. [Both convivial in form and firm about the content, Jean-Pierre Raffarin UNDERLINED the importance of “solidarity (of UMP deputies) with the government which is the base on which the project for France is being built”, according to the COMMENTS of Jacques Barrot and his first vicepresident, Bernard Accoyer, at the end of this one and a quarter hour meeting. The prime minister, who will regularly attend the group’s meetings, also declared that “this majority gives us responsibilities, but also extraordinary opportunities”. He INSISTED on the “readability of the government’s action” and the “urgency” of this extraordinary session’s work. Because “the government found a run-down State” and “a non insured public security”, according to the COMMENTS of the prime minister reported by a participant. When QUESTIONED about the content, Jean-Pierre Raffarin also had this little sentence: “The situation is somewhat blurry because there were five years of socialism. We need time to sort things out.” Jean-Pierre Raffarin MENTIONED the “priority problems” (security, justice) “with a promise of results, and not of means”.]

Contemporary written press 

Since readers do not have the time to read newspapers in their entirety, titles and headlines are essential to catch their attention and inform them on the substance of each article. The need for exhaustiveness must thus be counterbalanced by a careful monitoring of information flow and highlighting of important topics, which is partly carried out by the actual formatting of the text (titles, headlines, typography, pictures) and its structuring (use of connectives, division in paragraphs, etc.). Direct Discourse plays an important role in both (and so does Mixed Discourse). When appearing in titles and subtitles, Direct Discourse announces what will be spoken about in the text while dramatising it.39 Moreover, as I have said before, it is used in the body of the article itself to highlight particular topics while Indirect and Narrated Discourses are more likely to refer to background information. Because the newspapers need to be concise and to the point, they often cut and paste reported discourse and more boldly so than in other publications. The use of Mixed Discourses and textual islets is particularly adapted to that purpose, which probably partly explains their higher frequency in newspapers. With these, the journalist ends up with a sort of patchwork of discourses that are both integrated within his/her own discourse (especially for ND or ID with quotation marks) while also strongly signalling the authenticity and materiality of the quoted discourse (especially for DD with que) and thus his/her own reporting work. Most of these Mixed Discourses are on the neutral side, i.e. they do not contain elements (pronouns, deictics, tenses) that could be transposed from Direct Discourse into Indirect Discourse.40 This allows for a smoother incorporation within the quoting discourse while still pointing to the materiality of the quoted discourse (Rosier 2002: 32) and contributing to the ‘patchwork effect’. However the convenience allowed by this ‘cut-and-paste’ process often entails possible bias, or at the very least a strong evaluation, on the part of the journalist. Indeed, as several linguists noted, the shorter a segment in quotation marks is, the more it has to be re-contextualised since its original meaning can change or be put in another light (e.g. ironical) by virtue of being associated to certain words used by the journalist.41 This manipulation is of course particularly obvious in ID with quotation marks (where the journalist also transposes the original discourse) and/or when brackets or parentheses are added within the segment in quotation marks to clarify certain points (see first sentence of (19) above, where the expression (des députés UMP) is added in parenthesis and non-italics).42 So far I have discussed the use of reported discourses as facts or sources for facts within a narrative but obviously they are also used within argumentative sequences since, as mentioned before, newspapers (and ‘hard’ news magazines)

 Part II, Chapter 4

are also supposed to present a certain view of the world which conforms to that of their specific readership (see Note 11). Indeed, narration and argumentation are often blended within the same article at a micro-level while the political and ideological line of the newspaper also appears at a macro-level (choice of topics, use of titles and page presentation, etc.).43 The link between S&TP and argumentative strategies is neatly illustrated by a comparison between articles from the four different newspapers about the so-called ‘Sarkozy project’. In short, Nicolas Sarkozy, France’s interior minister (i.e. home secretary), presented a new law project on security on Wednesday 10 July 2002 at a cabinet meeting. All four newspapers report on a series of discursive events: the oral presentation by the minister, the formal legal text issued on this occasion and presumably a newsconference as well as interviews held by the minister, and finally various reactions by police unions, parents’ associations, etc. Since security was a weighty theme of Jacques Chirac’s presidential campaign, this project was of great importance for the newly formed right-wing government and especially for the ambitious Nicolas Sarkozy. Predictably, while Le Soir (a Belgian Newspaper) and Le Monde seem to treat the subject in a rather neutral way, Le Figaro (right wing) openly shows its support for it and Libération (left wing) takes this opportunity to criticise the government and paint Sarkozy as a ‘repression czar’. So while the four newspapers seem to report the same events, they do not do so in the same way. First of all, except for Le Monde, the number of S&TP occurrences (i.e. traditional reported discourse + Narrated Discourse) found in these clusters of articles does not necessarily reflect the averages found in the whole editions, which shows that these clusters adopt very specific strategies adapted to the presentation of a politically oriented project.44 Le Soir gives the topic less space (one article, around 750 words) since it is about French politics (not Belgian) but it does mention it on its cover page. The sources quoted are granted equal weigh: the legal text, Nicolas Sarkozy and the people reacting to the text (the police unions, the Left). There is only one Direct Discourse while Narrated Discourses predominate (70% of S&TP occurrences), thereby summarising the various discourses as a series of events while avoiding any dramatisation and possibly hiding the lack of access to primary sources. Le Monde devotes four articles (around 3500 words) written by the same journalist to the topic and one small picture (Sarkozy surrounded by reporters and police officers). The topic is also mentioned on the front page. The articles focus mainly on the content of the legal text rather than on Sarkozy’s comments and they do not mention any reactions to the project. Only a short paragraph deals with a new repressive policy on school absenteeism (23 words). The ar-

Contemporary written press 

Figure 19. Use of S&TP in newspapers excerpts on Sarkozy project

DD ID FID Mixed RD ND Mixed ND Total RD

Le Monde 3500 words 6 12% 8 15% 1 2% 4 7% 29 55% 5 9% 53 100%

Le Soir 750 words 1 5% 4 20% 0 0% 0 0% 14 70% 1 5% 20 100%

per 1000 words Press Cond. 7 occ. 2 2 occ. Textual islet 7 occ. 2 0 occ.

Libération 7500 words 60 24% 10 4% 0 0% 33 13% 93 37% 55 22% 250 100%

per 1000 words 2.6 4 occ. 0 38 occ.

Le Figaro 4000 words 11 14% 6 8% 1 1% 5 6% 45 58% 10 13% 78 100%

per 1000 words 0.5 1 occ. 5 8 occ.

per 1000 words 0.2 2

ticles mainly use Narrated Discourses (55%) or Indirect Discourses (15%), thereby opting for a rather neutral and objective tone, compared to the vivacity and dramatisation allowed by Direct Discourse and Mixed Discourses. Moreover, when Direct Discourses and segments in quotation marks appear, they are taken from the legal text and only five are from Sarkozy (out of 13). This later point illustrates Le Monde’s general tendency to present its readers with source texts (e.g. legal texts, political speeches) and interviews in contrast to the other newspapers, which are more interested in the interpretation of these sources. Both Le Soir and Le Monde use more ‘press’ conditionals than the two other newspapers, thus insisting more on the uncertainty of some facts (i.e. indicating that the piece of information originates from a discourse other than the journalist’s or that the journalist does not take responsibility for the utterance).45 These two newspapers also tend to describe the measures prescribed by the legal text with future tenses in independent clauses: of course these future tenses would only be valid if the parliament and the senate adopted the project. In fact there could be some ground here to consider these independent sentences with future tenses or press conditional as Free Indirect Discourses (italics in (20)) since they refer to what the government’s project says will happen. (20) Le Soir, Nicolas Sarkozy déclare la guerre à l’insécurité, p. 6 Côté équipement, le gouvernement entend également mettre le paquet. Les commissariats neufs seront plus nombreux, les voitures seront plus rapides, les moyens de communication plus performants et chaque agent devrait disposer de son propre gilet pare-balles. [Regarding equipment, the government also plans to pull out all the stops.

 Part II, Chapter 4

New police stations will increase, cars will be faster, communications will be more efficient and every officer should have his own bulletproof vest.]

Le Figaro has three articles on the topic (around 4000 words) written by two journalists, plus one rather big picture portraying Sarkozy with the finance minister, i.e. presented in his quality of serious lawmaker. Since Sarkozy gave the newspaper a sneak preview of the project on the day before (interview + article), the newspaper does not announce the topic on its front page and it tends to highlight the reactions to the project (69% of S&TP) and the actual content of the text itself (18%) rather than the interior minister’s comments (1%). It uses more Direct Discourses (14%) and Mixed Discourses (19%) than Le Soir and Le Monde but fewer than Libération.46 When used to report the legal text, these Direct Discourses convey seriousness (legitimisation) while they bring vivacity and authenticity when quoting the reactions of police unions. Moreover, while like Le Soir and Le Monde, Le Figaro uses future tenses in independent sentences, it does so with textual islets, thereby adding the authenticity of the legal text to the ineluctability of its future application (which is of course seen as a good thing by the newspaper and its readers). (21) Le Figaro, Mobilisation générale des retraités, p. 6 Toujours sur la base du volontariat, les réservistes de la police nationale pourront participer à des “missions de solidarité” dans trois domaines: “le soutien social de proximité, en assurant une permanence dans des services pour faciliter l’insertion locale de leurs collègues”, en clair accueillir les <> et leur apprendre les ficelles du métier; “la transmission des connaissances, lorsque les fonctionnaires ont acquis pendant leur activité une technicité particulière”; et enfin, “la médiation, notamment en direction des jeunes en difficulté”. [Still on the basis of voluntary service, reservists of the national police forces will be allowed to participate in “solidarity missions” in three domains: “social support of proximity, by insuring continuity in the services in order to ease the local insertion of colleagues”, in other words welcoming the <> and teaching them the tricks of the trade; “transmission of knowledge when the civil servants acquired specific technical skills during their duty”; and finally, “mediation, notably towards young people with roblems”.]

However, while Direct Discourses can be used by the journalists to ‘appropriate’ the official voice of the government and its representatives (the text, Sarkozy, the police), it can also help to distance the newspaper’s opinion from

Contemporary written press 

those of the people quoted.47 For example, in a 500 words article about absenteeism, the journalist mentions the fact that parents whose children skip school might be more severely sanctioned in the future (based on the new text); she goes on to explain that everybody agrees that truancy is one of the causes of juvenile delinquency but notes that people disagree on the solutions to fight it. Then follows a series of reported discourses, mostly Direct Discourses, of associations that have reacted negatively to the project of increased sanctions. However the journalist does not approve or disapprove them but ends with the following sentence: Le débat promet d’être passionné (‘the debate promises to be impassioned’). Libération devotes eighth articles to the topic (around 7500 words) plus one editorial and one article speaking ironically about the existing rivalry between the prime minister and the interior secretary, with a total of eight different signatures. There is one small picture of Sarkozy at the parliament, a big half page picture of two police officers patrolling Paris at night and two other ‘artistic’ but bleak pictures relating to school truancy and to delinquency, all of these accompanied by big titles (in a rather tabloid fashion). The huge title on the front page, the amount of space devoted to the topic and the number of journalists involved show the importance of this topic for the Left, which sees it as an ideal opportunity to blame the government, and especially ‘demonise’ the interior secretary.48 While Sarkozy’s slogans La sécurité est devenue la première préoccupation des Français (‘Security has become the first preoccupation of French people’) and La sécurité : première des libertés (‘Security: the first freedom’) are quoted in the three other newspapers, they are absent in Libération and replaced by Sarkozy’s alleged doctrine La répression est la meilleure des préventions (‘repression is the best prevention’). There is a subtle blurring of the words of the legal text and Sarkozy’s presentation of it so that it is not always clear when the journalists quote the written text or Sarkozy’s oral presentation of it. The result is that the minister is equated with the law: both are oppressive. In its articles, Libération uses more Direct Discourses (24% of overall S&TP occurrences) and Mixed Discourses (35%) than any other newspaper, as well as more segments in quotation marks within independent clauses (i.e. textual islets) (see Figure 19). This huge preference for reported discourse in quotation marks (59%) shows the importance of a certain ‘literality’ and dramatisation in S&TP, coupled to the ‘cut and paste’ possibilities offered by Mixed Discourses and textual islets. This has two different effects depending on the source quoted. When it is the legal text and/or Sarkozy, the feeling of authenticity is doubled by the ominous aspect of the quoted discourses: the words speak for themselves and there is nothing the journalists need to add

 Part II, Chapter 4

(or very little) to show how dangerously repressive the project is. We are thus far from the favourable feeling of authority and legitimatisation elicited by the Figaro’s use of Direct Discourses in the same context. The reactions of the police unions are also given in Direct Discourses without many comments: since most of these quotes are well-disposed towards the project, it shows that the police (in its quality of repressive agent) is hand in hand with Sarkozy. Like in Le Figaro (see (21) above), the legal text can be described through segments in quotation marks in independent clauses with verbs in future tenses. Interestingly, these future tenses are sometimes in the analytic form (aller + infinitive, equivalent to the ‘going to’ form in English) rather than the synthetic form, which has the effect of representing the future event as even closer and more linked to the present. (22) Libération, Sarkozy investit dans la matraque, p. 2 Un fichier national va recenser les “personnes interdites d’acquisition ou de détention d’armes”. [A national filing system is going to list “people prohibited from acquiring or owning weapons”.

On the other hand, the words of the experts and the reactions of parents’ associations and civil liberties organisations are also expressed in Direct Discourse by the journalists to give more weight to their argumentation. For example, in the case of truancy, contrary to Le Figaro, one journalist first exposes the weakness of the law which does not treat the social roots of the problem before backing his argument up with Direct Discourses from parents’ associations and education experts criticising the project. In another small article adjacent to the first, the same journalist describes and quotes from the scientific work of an expert on the situation in French schools (evoking mainly social and psychological problems). A third short article written by Libération’s London correspondent mentions the parents’ education program devised in the United Kingdom and quotes their reactions. The argumentative strategy adopted for this particular case is thus very different indeed from the ‘hands-off ’ attitude of Le Figaro or from the short paragraph found in Le Monde’s article.

. Reported discourse and style While demonstrating that each journalistic sub-genre has definite strategies in terms of S&TP, the above sections also show that some strategies are specific

Contemporary written press 

to particular publications, for example when comparing Elle to Marie Claire (weekly versus monthly format) or Gala to the other gossip magazines (high end versus low end magazines) and when analysing different argumentative procedures in the four newspapers (mostly based on their editorial line of opinion). At this point, it might also be relevant to use the notion of style in order to characterise some individual S&TP strategies. For example, I indicated above that Elle purports to be younger and trendier than Marie-Claire and thus is more playful with language by employing more Mixed Discourses and more Free Direct Discourses with regards to the overall number of reported discourses than most other magazines. Libération offers a further example of the importance of S&TP in determining the style of a publication. In that newspaper, the use of Direct Discourse and segments in quotation marks (Mixed Discourses and textual islets) is significantly higher than in any other publication.49 In addition to other narrative and argumentative roles described above, the high frequency of such S&TP types also has the effect of giving a particular vividness to the newspaper. As mentioned before, this vivacity stems from the fact that Direct Discourse purports to present ‘authentic’ words, and more specifically from the fact that – as a hearer-based strategy – it allows the reader to experience these words directly (Collins 2001: 68). It is also created by the cut-and-paste process involved in Mixed Discourses and textual islets, which allows to use more concentrated and striking expressions instead of longer, more diluted quoted utterances. Moreover, vividness can also be linked to Tuomarla’s concept of ‘oralisation’, i.e. the fact that the spoken language portrayed in S&TP can colour and indeed even ‘contaminate’ the rest of the text (Tuomarla 1999, 2000: 85–101, 2004). Linking ‘oralisation’ to the concept of ‘conversationalization’ described by Fairclough (1994), Tuomarla sees it as spreading language features typical of informal and private situations to public and formal discourse, thereby reducing the distance between public actors (such as politicians) and private individuals, and increasing the identification of the readers with the language of the media. For Tuomarla, oralisation encompasses the presence of familiar or even non standard features in lexicon and in syntax (e.g. parataxis, intonative interrogations, dislocations, absence of negative particle ne), the structuring of discourse into dialogue and the use of connectives after a full period, in front of the sentence.50 In her work, she shows conclusively that these characteristics can spread from Direct Discourse to the surrounding context. While oralisation is not necessarily at work in each Direct Discourse or segment in quotation marks and while this phenomenon also exists in other publications, the higher rate of these S&TP categories in Libération entails a higher probability of oralisation.

 Part II, Chapter 4

Indeed, this trend towards ‘familiarity’ can be explained by the left-wing stance of that newspaper. The language used within quotation marks and in some case in the rest of the article purports to be that of everyday people and not that of a conservative elite.51 This language can also be seen as trendy (inspired by the youth culture) and even often humorous, thus progressive and evolving with the Society, as opposed to the stuffiness of more conventional newspapers such as Le Figaro and Le Monde. Interestingly, one can also find this trend in the left-wing magazine Le Nouvel Observateur, which has the highest rate of Direct Discourse and segments in quotation marks (Mixed Discourses and textual islets) of all news magazines.52 The following examples illustrate the trend towards oralisation in both Libération and Le Nouvel Observateur:53 (23) Libération, Le charme discret de la lofterie, p. 36 [article on the winners of the French version of television show ‘Big Brother’ where contestants live in an enclosed space for several weeks and are eliminated progressively until only one couple is left. Thomas came out of the closet while on the show] Thomas, l’amateur d’art contemporain qui, à 21 ans, a lancé sa propre galerie d’art à Angoulême, est arrivé en costume cravate avec, sous le bras, un recueil d’aphorismes d’Oscar Wilde, histoire de préparer le terrain: “Je voulais le faire finement”, dit-il, ingénu. “Ah bon c’était pas fin?” Car “Ma chérie” et “Mon amour” forment un couple asexué: Karine est amoureuse de Thomas et Thomas est homosexuel. Et vierge. [Thomas, a contemporary art lover who, aged 21, launched his own art gallery in Angoulême, arrived wearing a suit and tie with, under his arm, a collection of Oscar Wilde’s aphorisms, as a means to pave the way: “I wanted to do it subtly”, he says ingenuously. “Oh really it was not subtle?” Because “Darling” and “Lovey” are an asexual couple: Karine is in love with Thomas and Thomas is gay. And a virgin. (24) Libération, Le charme discret de la lofterie, p. 36 [same] Il SE DÉCRIT en “homo discret”, mais compte bien aller discuter – “quitte à devenir vulgaire” – avec le buraliste de Vars (le village à côté d’Angoulême où il habite avec sa mère) qui a cru bon de préciser dans la presse que “Y’a pas que des pédés à Vars”. [He DESCRIBES himself as a “discreet gay” but he plans to have a talk – “even if it means being vulgar” – with the newsagent of Vars (the village next to Angoulême where he lives with his mother) who thought it was a good idea to state in the press that “Fags ain’t the only people in Vars”.

Contemporary written press

(25) Le Nouvel Observateur, Quand Sarkozy dégaine, p. 43 “Je ne regarde jamais derrière, seulement devant. Je n’ai pas d’amertume.” Sarkozy jure qu’il s’est bien “amusé” en montant sa “stratégie pour Matignon”. Sous-entendu: vous y avez tous cru. . . Du Sarkozy tout craché. Le ministre de la sécurité a le chic pour toujour RÉCRIRE l’histoire à sa façon. IMAGINER une “happy end” à sa façon. Po-si-ti-ver. “Mais finalement, ça m’a permis d’avoir l’Intérieur. Numéro deux du gouvernement, pas mal, non?” Pas mal en effet. [“I never look behind, only in front of me. I am not bitter.” Sarkozy swears that he had good “fun” when putting together his “strategy for Matignon”. Implying: you all believed it. . . It is so typical of Sarkozy. The minister for security has a knack for always REWRITING history in his way. To IMAGINE a “happy end” in his way. To think po-si-ti-ve. “But eventually, it allowed me to have the Home Office. Number two in the government, not bad, is it?” Not bad indeed.]

We can also submit that there is a link between Libération’s style and the presentation of the newspaper. Contrary to the other newspapers of our corpus, it has a tabloid format, which makes reading easier, presents larger size and coloured titles and headlines and gives more importance to pictures.54 Since, as mentioned before, the use of quotation marks demarcates the quoted discourse from the rest thereby highlighting it, it can be compared to the use of pictures and of coloured headlines and titles since they also focus the readers’ attention to a few specific points. Moreover, the purported iconicity of Direct Discourse (i.e. its faithfulness to a supposed original discourse) can be paralleled to the role of photographs: both are meant to refer directly to Reality, even though both can obviously be tampered with and are in any case re-framed and re-contextualised within the journalist’s discourse.55 Libération thus illustrates the role of S&TP in defining a style that is familiar and progressive (i.e. close to Society), user-friendly and catchy (i.e. close to the reader), and in direct link to reality.

. Conclusion In this chapter, I demonstrated that each journalistic sub-genre has specific strategies in terms of S&TP, which can be linked to other characteristics (e.g. use of pictures, interviews, first-person pronouns in headlines, etc.) in order to determine even broader discourse strategies relating to the construction of the



 Part II, Chapter 4

editorial persona, the involvement of the reader, the purposes of the sub-genre, etc. In gossip magazines and to a lesser extent ‘soft’ news magazines, S&TP is treated as secondary with regards to the actions of celebrities and as slightly problematic material for entertainment, given the difficulties to access primary discourses. This also explain why Indirect Discourse and Narrated Discourse are favoured over Direct Discourse. On the other hand, reported thoughts and imaginary dialogues with celebrities in Indirect Discourse are used as a way to involve the readers as spectators. In women’s magazines, Direct Discourse is preferred to other categories and plays an essential role in involving the readers as enunciative participants. They can identify with the discourse of the magazines in constructing a certain image of ‘Womanhood’, a strategy reinforced by other textual features, such as the use of first and second-person pronouns and the type of articles (narration of interviews, witness accounts, etc.). Newspapers and ‘serious’ news magazines regard speech presentation as central pieces of information and tend to integrate other’s words as Narrated Discourses within their text while also using Direct Discourse as a specific tool for authentication, vividness and textual structuring (e.g. foregrounding). Because they lack the newspapers’ constraints of time and exhaustiveness, news magazines have more opportunities to put their own discourse on display in argumentative sequences and to report thoughts rather than speech only, often highlighting the journalists’ own opinions and hypotheses. Given their specific constraints, newspapers tend to use more Narrated Discourses, often in order to place discourses at the same level as other non discursive events and/or to erase the different layers of the enunciative chain (use of secondary sources). Mixed Discourses and textual islets obey these editorial constraints too: segments in quotation marks help to create a patchwork of ‘authentic’ discourses but their use also entails certain bias on the part of journalists since the shorter an item is, the more it needs to be re-contextualised. Moreover newspapers (and ‘serious’ news magazines) also build specific S&TP strategies in order to take particular rhetorical stances. In the course of my study, I also showed that S&TP strategies play an important role in determining the specificity and even the style of a publication within the same subgenre (e.g. for Elle or Gala) or even a ‘political style’ across subgenres in the case of Libération and Le Nouvel Observateur. Obviously, although I did not mention it, the role of S&TP strategies would also be essential in determining the style of a particular journalist albeit it would also depend on the level of autonomy allowed by his/her editorial board. My analyses pointed to the richness and the multiplicity of S&TP functions in the press while identifying specific uses linked to particular categories

Contemporary written press

and/or types of reported discourses. Moreover, I made repeatedly clear that a single reported discourse category can have a very large range of functions. Also of importance is the fact that S&TP operate both within narrative and argumentative sequences. Because it presents non transposed discourse, strongly demarcated with quotation marks (and sometimes italics) from the rest of the text, Direct Discourse can be linked to many different discursive functions: highlighting and foregrounding of certain topics, reference to reality (through the representation of specific speech existing in the past), dramatisation of the narrative (vividness), authentication of information, legitimisation of sources and thus of journalistic discourse about an event, identification and involvement on the part of the readers (possibly through oralisation), etc. Moreover depending on the argumentative needs, Direct Discourse can be appropriated by the journalist or bring distantiation, both attitudes being based on the fact that the quoted words ‘speak for themselves’. In the press, as in other genres, Indirect and Narrated Discourse are more readily associated with the reporting of thoughts and with argumentative sequences (especially when expressing the journalist’s opinions). They are more employed in order to background discursive events (textual function) and, depending on the journalist’s own stance, they can carry a rather neutral and objective tone, compared to the vivacity and dramatisation allowed by Direct Discourse and Mixed Discourses (expressive function). Since the quoted discourse is transposed and thus integrated within the quoting discourse, the journalist is allowed both to condense the reported discourses and if needed to conceal the fact that they do not come from a primary source. In addition, because it avoids subordination (through completive or infinitive clauses), Narrated Discourse can be used to equate S&TP to other events, which is especially useful in publications such as newspapers that present discourses as events and events as discourses. Finally, I paid special attention to Mixed Discourses and, while confirming their substantial role in the discourse strategies of the press, I was able to identify some of their functions, to determine which types are more frequent than others (and why) and to explain why they are present in some subgenres but almost absent in others. Indeed, the majority of Mixed Discourses found in the corpus appear in newspapers. Most of them are on the neutral side, i.e. they do not include elements (pronouns, deictics, tenses) that could be transposed from Direct Discourse into Indirect Discourse. Moreover, Narrated Discourses with segments in quotation marks are clearly more frequent than Direct Discourses with que or Indirect Discourses with quotation marks. These two facts result in a smoother incorporation within the quoting discourse (with regards to ‘normal’ Direct Discourse) and in a ‘patchwork



 Part II, Chapter 4

effect’ that allows newspapers to be both exhaustive and concise (an editorial constraint that is less essential in other publications). At the same time, the use of quotation marks point to the materiality of the quoted discourse thereby contributing to the functions of authenticity and legitimisation crucial to newspapers. While Mixed Discourse shares a lot of similarities with regular Direct Discourse, as a tool for authentication, vividness and textual structuring, it often entails more partiality, or at the very least a stronger evaluation, on the part of the journalist since segments in quotation marks, especially the shorter ones used with Narrated Discourse, require more re-contextualisation than full length Direct Discourses. In the case of Direct Discourse with que or Indirect Discourse with quotation marks, the combination of quotation marks with a subordination marker (e.g. que ‘that’) doubly signals the journalist’s reporting work and can thus lead to more distantiation, thereby creating a subtle play between the apparent detachment of the journalist and the potential bias caused by the integration and re-contextualisation of relatively short segments of quoted discourse, which explains why Mixed Discourses are such invaluable tools for journalistic writing.56

Notes . For S&TP in the French-speaking press, see Bastian & Hammer (2004), Bruña-Cuevas (1996), Charaudeau (1988, 1997), Compagnon (1979), Celle (2004), Darde (1988), Eurenius (1998, 2000), Fløttum (2000a), Garnier & Sitri (2004), De Gaulmyn (1981, 1996), Komur (2004), Laroche–Bouvy (1988), Maingueneau (1998: 115–55), Marnette (2003), Meteva (2002, 2004), Monville-Burston (1993), Moirand (2000a, b, 2004), Mouillaud & Tétu (1989: 129–49), Petitjean (1987), Reboul-Touré (2004), Rosier (1993a, 1999, 2000a, b, 2002), Simonin (1984), Sullet-Nylander (1996, 1998, 2001, 2004), Torck (1999, 2001), Tuomarla (1999, 2000, 2004), Waugh (1995). For S&TP in the English-speaking press, see Caldas-Coulthard (1994), Fairclough (1988, 1995), Leech, McEnery & Wynne (1997), Sanders & Redeker (1996), Short (1988), Short, Semino & Wynne (1999), Weizman (1984), Zelizer (1989). . Rosier (2002: 27) points out to exceptions such as Brunot (1943), who studied the relationships between newspapers and grammar during the French Revolution. . This comparison is explicitly made by Short and his team (e.g. Short, Wynne & Semino 1999: 39) and Sanders and Redeker (1996), who only work on narrative newsreports. Petijean (1987: 73) focuses on short newsreports (faits divers, ‘news in brief ’) and while underlining their basic narrative structure, he also notes their possible argumentative and explicative implications. . Tuomarla (2000: 18) explicitly excludes interviews and first-person pieces from her corpus of newspapers and magazines’ articles. Rosier investigates all types of journalistic texts

Contemporary written press

(especially in her 1999 book). Moirand (2004) is the only linguist who clearly devotes her attention to first-person articles, which she calls genres à énonciation subjectivisée (‘genres with subjective enunciation’). She writes that they use reported discourse differently from other types of articles, notably by being more allusive as to the source of the quoted discourse and by using less Direct Discourses. Laroche–Bouvy (1988) studies two news magazines, Le Point and Le Nouvel Observateur and while excluding interviews, she includes first-person articles, noting that they include fewer quotations than other articles. . Maingueneau (1998), Rosier (1999) and Tuomarla (1999) are, to my knowledge, the only ones adding different magazines types to their corpus, mixing women’s magazines such as Elle, information magazines such as Le Nouvel Observateur and even TVmagazines such as Télé 7 Jours. They do not contrast the uses of reported discourse in the different publications. Although this lack of comparison is not a problem for Maingueneau and Rosier since their work is generalist, it is less acceptable in Tuomarla’s analysis since she focuses on the forms and functions of Direct Discourse in the press, which differ between subgenres. Short and his team distinguish between broadsheets and tabloids. However, although this distinction is very meaningful in the Anglo-Saxon press, it is less so in the French press where I have not found newspapers equivalent to the Sun or the National Enquirer. . Conversely, some linguists such as Authier, Komur and Von Munchow reject the entire concept of ‘mixed reported discourse’ and consider all examples as Indirect Discourses that happen to include segments within quotation marks. See our discussion in Part I, Chapter 3, Section 2.3. . Apart from Leech, Short and their team, I have not encountered any discussion of the thought presentation in the press (see Leech, McEnery & Wynne (1997), Short, Semino & Wynne (1999)), except to reject its possibility (Sullet-Nylander 2004). Torck (2001) includes verba sentiendi in her list of introductory verbs but she does not discuss reported thought per se. . Most publications use quotation marks to signal Direct Discourse, Mixed Discourses and textual islets. Le Figaro, Le Monde, Le Nouvel Observateur, Libération and Marianne combine quotation marks to italics in the body of the texts but employ quotation marks only in titles and headlines. Le Soir uses italics in the body of the text but quotation marks in titles and headlines. Intriguingly, Le Soir Magazine alternates the three above possibilities, depending on the article. In the current chapter, unless otherwise indicated (i.e. when marking Free Indirect Discourses), italics will be used in line with the format of the publications quoted. In all publications, autonymic references are marked by quotation marks only (scare quotes). . Statistics are of two kinds. On the one hand, I use percentages based on the average of total occurrences of reported discourses (mentioning whether this includes Narrated Discourse or not). On the other hand, I count occurrences of specific features per 1000 words. The word count is an approximation for the maximum space that the article takes in terms of a regular line of text, without taking into account title size, spaces and pictures. . Some magazines have TV programs (Soir Magazine and Le Nouvel Observateur) and all newspapers do. . Note that this is a reinforcing loop: the newspaper offers an image of the world that corresponds to the views of its readership and this in turn forms the basis of these views for



 Part II, Chapter 4

future articles. The readers’ mail shows that this process is not necessarily smooth. And so does the appeal of a news magazine like Marianne, which openly plays on the fact that it is not linked to any party. Of course, stating that you are not participating in the dominant ideology is, in itself, taking an ideological standpoint. In the case of self-acknowledged ‘neutral’ newspapers, they are actually seen as politically oriented (often by people who do not read them). A case in point is Le Monde, which will be described as leaning towards the left by some conservatives and leaning towards the right by communists. . . In his study of discourse and ideology in the news, Fowler (1991: 44–6) notes the dynamic role of the readers, who “unconsciously [. . .] ‘read in’ – a more active process than ‘reading off ’ – the ideology which shapes the newspaper’s representation of reality”. . The saliency of Direct Discourse might also explain why Tannen (1982b: 8) links it to internal evaluations in narratives, i.e. to the implicit ways in which narrators comment on the point of their stories and show the relative importance of different elements to the listenersreaders (Labov 1972: 372). Although Tannen speaks about oral narratives, it is worth noting that Direct Discourse markedness helps foregrounding specific elements in narrative – and I believe argumentative – sequences (see also Collins 2001: 69). On the textual function of Direct Discourse, see also Bastian & Hammer (2004). . There are less than 2.5 reported discourses per 1000 words in gossip magazines (excluding Narrated Discourse) compared to 2.5 or more in all other publications (from 2.5 in Paris Match to 8.6 in Libération). Moreover I counted less than 0.9 Narrated Discourse per 1000 words in gossip magazines compared to more than 1.3 in other publications (from 1.32 in Paris Match to 8.5 in Le Monde but 0.57 in Elle). . Indirect Discourse plus Free Indirect Discourse amount to 53% of overall reported discourses and Narrated Discourses in Ici Paris (versus 15% Direct Discourse), 36% in Voici (versus 26%). The numbers are equivalent in Gala: 30% Indirect Discourse plus Free Indirect Discourse versus 33% Direct Discourse. . Narrated Discourse corresponds to 19% of overall reported discourses in Ici Paris (versus 15% Direct Discourse), 33% in Voici (versus 26%). The numbers are equivalent in Gala: 31% Narrated Discourse versus 33% Direct Discourse. . Actually, a subsequent issue of Voici (26 August 2002) mentioned two lawsuits by French celebrities regarding articles published in the issue included in my corpus. If, condemned, the magazine would have to pay €40,000 to €50000 per litigation. . This lack of direct reporting is obvious when looking at the complete absence of interviews in Voici and the low interest of the 8 interviews of Ici Paris, all by has-been celebrities or lesser-known TV-personalities. Clearly Ici Paris (€1.10) and Voici (€1.30) are low budget magazines compared to Gala (€2), which works more closely with the celebrities’ press attachés. Gala offers two interviews that are more topical, one with two French actors that are not very known but star in a current movie and the other with the two winners of the latest Big Brother’s series (called ‘Loftstory’ in France). It also presents a tourist description of South of France written in the first person by Laetitia Halliday, the wife of a famous French singer. Moreover all pictures published in Gala are referenced, even in the gossip section, while it is not the case at all for the two others. Ici Paris only acknowledges pictures accompanying interviews (presumably taken with the agreement of the star) and Voici never gives the source of the pictures. Interestingly, Voici and Gala belong to the same publishing house

Contemporary written press

(Prisma Press) while Ici Paris and Paris Match are part of the Hachette Group. So each group has a ‘lower end’ and ‘higher end’ magazine. . If one looks at the total amount of Reported Discourse without Narrated Discourse, the differences are 68% versus 32% for Ici Paris, 72% versus 28% for Voici, 84% versus 16% for Marianne and 85% versus 15% for Gala (which, also use more Direct Speech). All other publications have at least 89% of Reported Speech. If one adds Narrated Discourse, the difference stays stable for Ici Paris (74 vs 26%) and Voici (79% vs 21%) but less so for Gala (88% vs 12%). . 69% for Elle and 67% for Marie-Claire compared with less than 30% in news magazines, 54% in Gala and Voici and 38% in Ici Paris. . Rosier (2000b: 35–6) also notes that interjections in the discourse of women’s magazines (especially in titles) do not only address the readers but help them to identify with that discourse and she sees these occurrences as examples of Free Direct Discourse (like I do for the use of first person in (7), (8) above). . The numbers are 2.3 occurrences per 1000 words in Elle and 3.4 in Marie-Claire (2.4 in Le Figaro, 2.8 in Le Monde, 3.3 in Le Nouvel Observateur and 4.7 in Libération). . In Elle and Marie-Claire, Direct Discourses without a verbum dicendi are more frequent both in number of occurrences and with regard to other forms of reported discourses than in other magazines (20% and 30% versus 15% for Le Soir Magazine and less than 8% for the rest; the numbers are stable if one adds Narrated Discourse). . Another way to feel close to the interviewee is to give pictures not of her or her home but of all her favourite objects and pictures with her own hand-written comments (e.g. interview with Zazie in Marie-Claire, p. 25). . Less than 10% of all reported discourses are thoughts (9% for Elle, 7% for Marie-Claire and Le Nouvel Observateur). The number goes up to 11% if one considers Narrated Discourse as well. The numbers of Reported Thoughts are also very low in newspapers but for other reasons (7% and less, see infra). . So when reading Elle, I can pretend to be beautiful (fashion section and beauty tips), smart (book reviews), sexually-liberated (free discussion on sex), ready to travel to wonderful destinations for holidays, etc. . Marie-Claire, p. 96 “Pédophilie: ces mères qui fuient à l’étranger avec leurs enfants”, p. 206 “Femmes afghanes: ‘Et maintenant ouvrons-nous au monde”’. . In Elle, 7% of overall reported discourses are Free Direct Discourses and 8% are Mixed Discourses. The numbers stay stable if one includes Narrated Discourse (6% and 11%). No other publication has more than 3% of Free Direct Discourse (2% if counting Narrated Discourses) and most magazines have less than 7% of Mixed Discourses, except Marianne 9% (less than 10% if counting Narrated Discourses, except Ici Paris 12%). As will be shown infra, newspapers use more Mixed Discourses than the rest. . Le Nouvel Observateur has a detachable section with TV programs that also offers movie and TV reviews but is not part of the corpus. . More than 7.5 of Reported Discourse (including Narrated Discourse) occurrences per 1000 words in political gossip compared to less than 3 in celebrities gossip. In Soir Magazine,



 Part II, Chapter 4

the number of occurrences are the same in both types of articles (around 6.5), moreover the ‘political gossip’ include remarks about society in general (e.g. crimes, justice, etc.). . As a reminder, I include in the category of Mixed Discourses, Direct Discourses with que, Indirect Discourses or Neutral Discourses with quotation marks and Narrated Discourses with segments in quotation marks. I call ‘textual islets’ all occurrences of segments in quotation marks that contain one or more syntagms, do not constitute a whole utterance and appear in an independent clause without any other type of S&TP. . There is 33%–44% of Narrated Discourse in news magazines compared to less than 33% in other magazines and 44%–49% in newspapers (except Libération 40%). This is also true in numbers of occurrences: 1.3–4.5 per 1000 words in news magazines compared to less than 0.85 in other magazines (except Marie Claire 2.1) and 5–8.5 in newspapers. . Journalist’s discourse: 0.25 occurrence per 1000 words (but Paris Match 0.09). Ici Paris is the only publication with a higher number: 0.58 per 1000. . Such ‘historical’ articles treat topics like the hiring of ex-nazis by the FBI after the war (Le Nouvel Observateur), the biggest ‘swindles’ of 20th c. (Marianne). Other topics are recent but envisaged with some historical background, e.g. Jean Marie Messier’s ascension to power (Le Nouvel Observateur (17), Marianne) or the acquisition of nuclear weapons by terrorists (Marianne (16)). The creative use of reported thought is particularly interesting in Paris Match’s story of the Rolling Stones, since the article even report’s Brian Jones interior monologue in Direct Discourse (p. 66). . For an in-depth description of French daily newspapers, see Charaudeau (1988), Mouillaud & Tétu (1989). In her review of various handbooks for journalists, Rosier (2002: 29) notes that only Direct Discourse is mentioned. According to these handbooks, Direct Discourse is supposed to quote ‘real’ words but also to add vividness to the story. Rosier thus stresses the influence of fiction writing in journalistic texts. . Darde (1988: 94) speaks of ‘enunciative chain’ to describe the many utterances that separate the actual event from the journalist’s own discourse. . Indeed Genette (1972: 190–1) sees Narrated Discourse as essentially transforming discourse into event, hence the French term narrativisé ‘narrated’, i.e. discourse ‘reduced’ to narrative. . This article contains three of the four examples of DD with que found in Le Figaro. Of the 20 reported discourses and Narrated Discourses found in the article, 10 are Mixed Discourses and/or appear with selon+quotation marks (= 50%) and 7 are non-transposed (4 normal Direct Discourses and 3 Direct Discourses with que, = 35%). . This news item is not present in the other newspapers on that day. . On the specific role of Direct Discourse and segments in quotation marks in headlines, see notably Torck (1999) and Sullet-Nylander (1996, 1998, 2004). . Tuomarla (2000: 153, 155) and Rosier (2002: 31) corroborate this point. . Gruber (1993: 472, 480), Semino et al. (1997: 31), Torck (1999), Tuomarla (2000: 163), Weizman (1984: 42, 45). . Torck (1999) writes that this evaluative bias on the part of the journalist is typical of segments in quotation marks used in headings, where verba dicendi, for example tend to be

Contemporary written press 

more polarised (negative-positive) than in the body of the text. Although her own examples are convincing, I have not found many occurrences of Mixed Discourses in headlines in my corpus (most of them being Narrated Discourses with quotation marks). . This is the case even with articles that look more like narratives (see notably de Gaulmyn 1981; Mouillaud & Tétu 1989: 173–85; Petijean 1987). Also see Note 3 in the present chapter. . For example, we find 4% Indirect Discourses and 35% Mixed Discourses in Libération’s clusters but respectively 15% and 17% in the whole newspaper. Similarly, the 5% Direct Discourses and 70% Narrated Discourses found in Le Soir’s article on Sarkozy’s project come to 16% and 49% in the whole newspaper. However, the differences between newspapers seem to stay the same, e.g. Libération always offers more Direct Discourses and Mixed Discourses than the other newspapers, and Le Soir has more Narrated Discourses. . In Le Soir, we find 2.6 ‘press’ conditional per 1000 words (2 occurences) and 2 per 1000 in Le Monde (7 occurrences) compared to 0.5 per 1000 in Libération (4 occurrences) and 0.2 per 1000 in Le Figaro (1 occurrence). . In Le Figaro, the Mixed Discourses are: Indirect Discourses with quotation marks (1%), Neutral Discourses in quotation marks (5%) and Narrated Discourses with segments in quotation marks (12%). We find one Narrated Discourse with segments in quotation marks in Le Soir (5%) and we find 14% of Mixed Discourses in Le Monde (Indirect Discourses with quotation marks (3%), neutral discourses in quotation marks (4%) and Narrated Discourses with segments in quotation marks (9%). . The idea that Direct Discourse entails either appropriation (‘appropriation’) or effacement (‘withdrawal’, ‘effacing’) on the part of the newspaper is mentioned in Mouillaud & Tétu (1989: 136). . Note that Le Monde, for all its apparent neutrality, present some subtle similarities with Libération. As mentioned above, it offers a picture of Sarkozy amongst the press and a strong cohort of police officers, thereby highlighting his thirst for media attention (openly criticised by Libération) and his links with the police forces (the ‘repressive’ image explicitly painted by Libération). Moreover, both newspapers front pages emphasise the cost of the project although Le Monde does not reprove it like Liberation does. Compare Le Monde’s title Neuf milliards d’euros pour la sécurité (‘nine billion euros for security’) to Libération’s wordplay Six milliards pour la loi Sarkozy / Chère répression (‘six billion for the Sarkozy Law / Dear repression’). . Most frequent use of Direct Discourse 4.69 per 1000 words, of Narrated Discourse with quotation marks 1.74 per 1000 words, of long textual islets (more than one syntagm) 0.87 per 1000 words. Second highest use of Mixed Discourses 2.93 per 1000 words, after Le Monde. . Laroche-Bouvy also mentions the use of Direct Discourse in order to introduce familiar, vulgar and slang expressions and to stage dialogues between characters (Laroche-Bouvy (1988: 124–6, 130) referred to by Tuomarla (2000: 71–3)). In her conclusion, she states that the use of spoken language in Direct Discourse brings authenticity and vividness to the article. . This can be linked to the fact that Collins (2001: 69) sees Direct Discourse as a hearerbased strategy creating involvement on the part of the addressee (i.e. here the reader),

 Part II, Chapter 4

which therefore lessens social distance and promotes a feeling of solidarity between the reporter and the addressee. It is also in line with Halliday’s view of conversation as ’realitymaintaining’ (Halliday): using oral techniques in newspaper thus attempts to create values/ideologies. . Compared to other news magazines, Le Nouvel Observateur has the most frequent use of Direct Discourse (3.3 per 1000 words words compared to less than 2 in others), of Narrated Discourse with quotation marks (0.7 per 1000 words), of long textual islets (more than one syntagm, 0.4 per 1000 words), and of Mixed Discourses (1.1 per 1000 words). Le Nouvel Observateur is also the source of most of Tuomarla’s examples of oralisation (Tuomarla 1999, 2000, 2004). . Familiar expressions (histoire de (23), homo (24), pédé (24), tout craché (25), a le chic pour (25), ça (25)), loss of negative particle and drop of subject pronouns (c’était pas (23), y a pas (24), pas mal (25)), intonative interrogation (c’était pas fin? (23), pas mal, non? (25)), construction in dialogue (the question Ah bon c’était pas fin? in (23) answers to an implied remark by the journal; the journalist’s answer Pas mal en effet in (25) follows a question by Sarkozy.), use of connectives after a full period, in front of the sentence (Car “ma chérie” (23), Et vierge (23), “Mais finalement (25)). Also note the lack of verbum dicendi in (23) and (25) and the insistence on pronunciation in (25) (po-si-ti-ver), two phenomena also identified by Tuomarla (2000: 90, 143). In (24), note that the last segment of mixed discourse is embedded in two successive Indirect Discourses: ‘. . . who thought [it was a good idea [to state in the press [that “Fags ain’t the only people in Vars”.]]].In (25), we have a rare example (for the press) of an imaginary Direct Discourse vous y avez tous cru (‘you all believed it’), which is not within quotation marks but clearly expresses what Sarkozy meant or could have said more explicitly. Moreover the insistence on the pronunciation of Po-si-ti-ver (‘To think po-si-ti-ve’) could also refer to what Sarkozy would say about his own attitude (and is actually very reminiscent of his way of speaking). . Here the term ‘tabloid’ is exclusively referring to the format of the newspaper not to its overall content, which does not vary from the other newspapers of my corpus. The situation is very different in the Anglo-Saxon press where tabloids can usually be strongly opposed to the quality press both in terms of presentation and content. Mouillaud & Tétu (1989: 193– 8) also point out that Libération has a particular way of assembling news and formatting information, although they do not relate it to the use of reported discourse or to a specific register. Maingueneau (1998: 141) notes the use of quotation marks particular to Libération’s style. . Rosier (2002: 30) also notices the link between Direct Discourse and pictures. . It is of course possible to envisage some types of Mixed Discourses as pointing more towards detachment and others more towards integration. For example, Direct Discourse with que could be seen as more detached since it does not transpose the quoted discourse while it is the contrary for Indirect Discourse and Narrated Discourse with quotation marks (and textual islets). However, it is important to realise that the interplay of detachment and integration/bias is at work in all types of Mixed Discourses, which is why they are so useful. Rosier (2002) also notes the ‘overmarking’ allowed by mixed discourse and links it to the metalinguistic discourse of the journalists on their reporting (quoting) practices.

Conclusion

In the first part of this book, I proposed as theoretical background a combination of the French enunciation theories – notably the notion of ‘split subject’ developed by Ducrot (1984) – and the S&TP continuum designed by Leech & Short (1981). I then set out to discuss the very concept of reported discourse, submitting that it involves discourse production as well as reproduction and that the term ‘reported’ is better seen as establishing a connection between two discourses, i.e. relating a discourse to another (cf. French mise en rapport). My approach of reported discourse was particularly inclusive since, contrary to many other scholars, I viewed it as encompassing speech, thought, attitudes and writing and I took into account performative and reflexive formulas such as je dis (‘I say’) and je pense (‘I think’). In addition to traditional categories of reported discourses (Direct, Indirect, Free Direct and Free Indirect Discourses), I looked at less studied ones such as Mixed and Neutral discourses and I suggested that reported discourse per se can only be meaningfully studied in connection to other more ‘fuzzy’ S&TP categories such as Narrated Discourse, the press conditional or expressions such as selon X (‘according to X’). In the course of my theoretical discussions, the notion of continuum was repeatedly used to illustrate the links between the various types and uses of reported discourse (e.g. ‘quoting speaker’s control → quoted speaker’s control’, ‘reproduction → assertion’, ‘external speech → attitudes’, ‘performative clauses → metalinguistic clauses’). This enabled me to account for the ambiguity of certain examples in actual discourse while also defining precise benchmarks based on specific linguistic and semantic criteria. In my opinion, this broadening of the scope of S&TP was absolutely essential in order to allow for a truly extended approach of S&TP strategies. The second part of the book was based on the premisse that the presence or absence of S&TP, the types and categories of S&TP used, their respective frequencies and their interrelations are fundamental in defining specific speech genres (and sub-genres).1 The interest of my analysis is threefold. First, except for modern French literature, S&TP had been relatively little studied in the speech genres chosen for my corpus. This gave me the opportunity to offer

 Conclusion

original approaches of these genres as well as highlighting reported discourses categories that were usually overlooked because of their absence in modern literature (e.g. Neutral Discourse in medieval French and in modern spoken French, Mixed Discourses in medieval French literature and in the contemporary press). Second, I was able to examine S&TP strategies typical of particular speech genres at a macro-analytic level as well as offering some reflections pertaining to a micro-analytic level (i.e. style of specific texts, be they a spoken French conversation, a medieval chronicle, a modern novel or a newspaper article). Thirdly, after scrutinising separate genres, I am now in a position to highlight some of the common threads running through the whole analysis. My study of various corpora conclusively showed that specific types of reported discourse (speech, thoughts, attitudes and writing) are linked to particular S&TP categories (Direct, Indirect, Free Indirect, Mixed and Neutral Discourses). For example, I stressed the affinity of Direct Discourse and reported speech on the one hand and of Indirect Discourse and reported thought/attitude on the other hand. This helped to explain, amongst other things, the importance of direct speech in chansons de geste or in spoken conversations, or the higher presence of indirect thoughts in medieval romances and gossip magazines. I also noted the propensity to use Indirect Discourses (and especially reflexive formulas) in argumentative sequences, e.g. in spoken French discussions or in news magazines. Some concepts were encountered across corpora. Such was the case for the notions of ‘orality’ and ‘oralisation’, which were linked to the vividness and dramatisation allowed by Direct Discourse and helped to characterise the chansons de geste, some 20th-c. novels such as Zazie dans le métro (Queneau) or Voyage au bout de la nuit (Céline), women’s magazines or even left-wing publications such as Libération and Le Nouvel Observateur. In all these genres, like in spoken narratives, the high use of direct speech entails the readers’ involvement since it makes them re-live history (chansons de geste), identify with the discourse presented (e.g. women’s magazines) or connect with the language register portrayed in the Direct Discourse (e.g. Zazie dans le métro, Voyage au bout de la nuit, Libération, Le Nouvel Observateur). In the case of chansons de geste, orality is linked to the mode of production (originally oral composition and oral performance) and to the conceptualisation of history as re-enactment through direct speeches, but it does not pertain to the capacity of Direct Discourse to represent actual spoken French. However in 20th-c. literature, the left-wing press, and to a lesser degree in women’s magazines, oralisation has to do both with the very use of direct speeches (seen as typical of spoken language) and with their ‘realistic’ portraying of spoken French.

Conclusion 

Also running through the entire second part is the importance of S&TP strategies for the various conceptualisations of the notions of ‘truth’ and ‘reality’ in fiction and non-fiction, i.e. for the question of how to represent the world. Truth is referential when discourses are presented as facts, i.e. either as distanced events (Indirect Discourse, Narrated Discourses) or as ‘pictures’ (Direct Discourse seen as direct representation of reality) in the chronicles, news magazines and newspapers.2 On the other hand, the notion of ‘truth’ is better seen in terms of ‘verisimilitude’ and ‘authenticity’ when discourses are presented as experiences one can live through and/or identify with, sometimes in connection to a certain ideology. So lovers’ dialogues with their own selves or with each other in verse romances exemplify the development of courtly love. Direct Discourses in women’s magazines help building the image of the ideal Woman and identify with it. In 19th-c. novels, Direct and Free Indirect Discourses allow Zola to represent the language of ‘real’ people (bourgeois or low-class) or Flaubert to minutely describe the musings of Emma Bovary. In 20th-c. novels, Direct, Free Indirect and Free Direct Discourses also colour Céline or Queneau’s narratives with colloquial French. Reported thoughts and attitudes play an important role in representing reality. It is interesting to note their relative absence in chronicles, news magazines, newspapers, chansons de geste, spoken French conversations (except when locutors report their own thoughts) and in women’s magazines (which, in this case, can be said to imitate oral language). In these various genres, reality seems to have only one possible dimension: what can be physically seen, felt or heard. While some of these genres present reported discourses as facts that were witnessed by the locutor in the past (chronicles, news magazines, newspapers), the others tend to relate them as being witnessed, re-lived by the listener or reader in the present, notably through the use of direct speech and verba dicendi in the present tense (chansons de geste, spoken French conversations and women’s magazines).3 The presence of reported thoughts and attitudes in literary genres such as medieval romances and modern novels (as well as in gossip magazines!) adds a psychological dimension to the world portrayed in these genres. While this psychological ‘reality’ is heavily controlled and monitored by the narrative voice in prose romances, early 19th-c. novels and gossip magazines (majority of Narrated Discourses and Indirect Discourses), it is less so in verse romances and later 19th-c. novels (Direct and Free Indirect Discourses) and very little in 20th-c. novels (adding Free Direct Discourse to the other categories). In these two latter genres, there can be real ambiguities in distinguishing between speech and thought as well as between the narrator’s point

 Conclusion

of view and that of the characters. Reality is therefore presented as complex and multi-layered, entirely dependent on the reader’s subjective interpretation. Ultimately the question raised by the study of S&TP strategies is not only how the world is represented but also whose world is being represented and who is representing it. In other words, S&TP strategies have to do with the expression of narratological point of view and the rhetorical construction of the Self versus the Other. The relative absence of Free Indirect Discourse and Free Direct Discourse in chansons de geste, chronicles, prose romances, early 19th-c. novels, and narratives in the press and spoken French shows that, in these particular genres, events (discourses and actions) are mainly filtered through the perspective of the narrator (je or third-person instance such as le conte or the author’s name) or, in case of first-person narration, the perspective of the narrating self plus that of the experiencing self. The narrator is therefore prevalent, both as main locutor as well as focaliser. Characters can be secondary locutor (thanks to Direct Discourse) or just enunciator (Indirect Discourse) but rarely enunciator/focaliser (Free Indirect Discourse).4 To put it more simply, all these genres present a rather unproblematic vision of the world were everything seems subordinate to the voice telling the story: the jongleur of chansons de geste, the medieval chronicler, the impersonal but authoritative expression le conte (‘the story’) in prose romances, the overbearing narrator in Balzac, Hugo and Stendhal, the journalist in the modern press and the average day-to-day speaker of French. On the contrary, the use of Free Indirect Discourses in medieval verse romances, later 19th-c. novels and 20th-c. novels indicates that, at times, the perspective of the narrator alternates with that of the characters (internal focalisation). In that case, various S&TP categories combine in order to give a composite, intersubjective, occasionally ambiguous representation of the world where the narrator is not the only focaliser. Indeed we saw that with the advent of Free Direct Discourse and its mixing with other categories in 20th-c. novels, the narrative voice could disappear to a certain extent and be overtaken by the characters’ voices. In other words, characters tended to become primary locutor as well as enunciator, i.e. narrator as well as focaliser.5 This was true with third-person novels (e.g. Gide’s Les Faux-monnayeurs, Aragon’s Diane in Les Cloches de Bâles, Sarraute’s Planétarium) as well as with first-person novels such as Céline’s Voyage au bout de la nuit where it can be difficult to distinguish between Bardamu’s thoughts in the past and in the present. With regards to argumentative sequences, I showed that the use of performative and reflexive formulas such as je dis (‘I say’) and je pense (‘I think’) help to stage, to dramatise the locutor’s voice and therefore his/her opinions

Conclusion 

in genres as diverse as spoken French conversations, news magazines or 14th and 15th-c. chronicles. In the chronicles, these formulas are one of the many devices used by the je-narrator to vouch for the truth of his narrative, e.g. in addition to quoting other trustworthy witnesses. In news magazines, they portray the line of the editorial team. In spoken French, they can appear in diaphonic repeats, where Indirect Discourse is used to oppose the discourse of the je-locutor to that of his/her addressee (‘I say/think that X, you say that Y’). Because they deliberately conflate the locutor qua locutor with the locutor qua person of the world, these performative and reflexive formulas explicitly contribute to the construction of the Self versus the representation of the ‘Other’. Of course, many S&TP strategies work in the reverse way since by staging the discourse of the Other, they indicate implicitly that it is not that of the locutor. For example, markers like selon X (‘according to X’) or patchwork strategies with Mixed Discourses allow journalists in newspapers and news magazines to distance themselves from the discourses they are reporting. Interestingly, they can do so whether they adhere to these discourses or not, depending on the status of the quoted source and/or due to the idea that the quoted words speak for themselves (cf. contrastive analysis of articles in Le Figaro and Libération in Part II, Chapter 4). In conclusion, I have shown in this book that discourse analysis – in this case enunciation theory – is instrumental in deepening our understanding of the concept of reported discourse. Moreover I have demonstrated that the study of S&TP offers a unique perspective on the configuration of speech genres. In finishing the present book, I hope that my research will spark off more discussions on the concept of reported discourse, especially with regards to controversial points such as reported thoughts and attitudes as well as performative and reflexive formulas. I also believe that similar corpus analyses would fruitfully be applied to the study of S&TP in other languages, periods and/or speech genres.6 What I am proposing here is therefore only the beginning – an exciting foray – in what I envision as a remarkably fertile scope of research, intersecting fields as diverse as linguistics, literature, philology, stylistics, narratology, rhetoric, history, sociology and the sciences of communication. . .

Notes . In a more functionally oriented perspective, one could say that speakers and writers of texts draw on S&TP devices strategically for communicative purposes (e.g. involving their addressee with Direct Discourse, influencing the listener-reader’s perception of events, etc.).

 Conclusion

While speech genres obviously share some of these purposes, they ultimately have distinct communicative configurations and S&TP strategies mirror these. . For a comparison of Direct Discourse with a photograph, see Part II, Chapter 4, Section 6. In Marnette (1999b), I explain that chronicles seem to present ordered series of still photographs while chansons de geste are more akin to historical re-enactments. . In spoken language however, the increased use of markers such as genre in French or like in English seems to show a recent trend towards expressing thoughts and attitudes in oral narratives, usually with the vividness allowed by Direct Discourse (see Fleischman 1998; Yaguello 1998; Fleischman & Yaguello 2004 and examples (9) and (10) in Part II, Chapter 1, Section 2.1). . See Figures 3, 4 and 5 in Part I, Chapter 1, Sections 4 and 5. . This point sheds some light on Fludernik’s rejection of the distinction between voice and point of view (Fludernik 2001, see Note 33 in Part I, Chapter 1, Section 5 of this book). If the use of Free Direct Discourse leads to the non differentiation between a main narrative voice and the voices of characters, then there is no need to distinguish between voice and point of view since, according to Fludernik (2001: 633), the linguistic clues to know who speaks are the same as those to know who perceives the event. . For example, it would be interesting to apply the same approach in order to study S&TP in Renaissance, 17th and 18th-c. French literature, in public and institutional discourse (such as media, social work, science and medicine, law, politics and education; e.g. see Baynam and Slembrouck 1999).

References

Abouda, Lotfi 1997 Recherches sur la syntaxe et la sémantique du conditionnel en français. Thèse de doctorat. Université Paris 7. — — — 2001 “Les emplois journalistique, polémique, et atténuatif du conditionnel. Un traitement unitaire”. In Le conditionnel en français, P. Dendale and L. Tasmowski (eds), 277–294. Metz-Paris: Klincsieck. Adam, Jean-Michel 1990 Eléments de linguistique textuelle. Théorie et pratique de l’analyse textuelle. Liège: Mardaga. — — — 1999 Linguistique textuelle. Des genres de discours aux textes. Paris: Nathan. Adams, Jon-K. 1985 Pragmatics and Fiction. Amsterdam-Philadelphia: John Benjamins. Adert, Laurent 1996 Les mots des autres : lieu commun et création romanesque dans les œuvres de Gustave Flaubert, Nathalie Sarraute et Robert Pinget. Villeneuve d’Ascq: Presses universitaires du Septentrion. Andersen, Hanne Leth 1999 “Discours direct en français parlé”. In Etudes de linguistique et de littérature dédiées à Morten Nøjgaard, G. Boysen and J. Moestrup (eds), 15–31. Odense: Odense University Press. — — — 2000 “Discours rapporté en français parlé : rection du verbe de citation et éléments délimitant la citation directe”. Actes du colloque Français parlé – Corpus et résultats. Etudes Romanes. 47: 143–155. — — — 2002 “Le choix entre discours direct et discours indirect en français parlé : facteurs syntaxiques et pragmatiques”. Faits de langue 19: 201–210. Anglade, Joseph 1947 Grammaire élémentaire de l’ancien français. Paris: Armand Colin. Aron, Thomas 1983 “Le Roman comme représentation de langages, ou Raymond Queneau à la lumière de Bakhtine”. Europe: Revue Littéraire Mensuelle 650–651: 46–58. Authier-Revuz, Jacqueline 1982 “Hétérogénéité montrée et hétérogénéité constitutive : éléments pour une approche de l’autre dans le discours”. DRLAV 26: 91–151. — — — 1984 “Hétérogénéités énonciatives”. Langages 73: 98–111. — — — 1985 “La représentation de la parole dans un débat radiophonique: Figures de dialogue et de dialogisme”. Langue Française 65: 92–102. — — — 1995 Ces mots qui ne vont pas de soi. Boucles réflexives et non-coïncidences du dire. Paris: Larousse. — — — 1996 “Remarques sur la catégorie de l’îlot textuel”. Cahiers du français contemporain 3: 91–115. Bakhtin, Mikhail Mikhailovich 1986 [orig. ed. Volochinov V. N. 1929] Marxism and the philosophy of language. Cambridge, Massachusetts: Harvard University Press [English translation of Marksizm i filosofiia iazyka by Ladislav Matejka and I. R. Titunik].

 References

— — — 1986 [1979] Speech Genres and Other Late Essays. Austin: University of Texas Press [English translation of Estetika slovesnogo tvorchestva by Vern W. McGee]. — — — 1984 [1979] Esthétique de la création verbale. Paris: Gallimard. French translation of Estetika slovesnogo tvorchestva by Alfreda Aucouturier. — — — 1981 [1975] The dialogic imagination: four essays. Austin: University of Texas Press [English translation of Voprosy literatury i estetiki by Caryl Emerson and Michael Holquist]. — — — 1979 [orig. ed. Volochinov V. N. 1929] Le marxisme et la philosophie du langage. Paris: Minuit [French translation of Marksizm i filosofiia iazyka by Marina Yaguello]. — — — 1978 [1975] Esthétique et théorie du roman. Paris: Gallimard [French translation of Voprosy literatury i estetiki by Daria Olivier]. Banfield, Ann 1973 “Narrative Style and the Grammar of Direct and Indirect Speech”. Foundations of Language 10: 1–39. — — — 1982 Unspeakable Sentences. Narration and Representation in the Language of Fiction. London: Routledge and Kegan Paul. Barallier, Colette 1984 Elle me disait “moi c’est moi et toi tais-toi” la notion de discours direct et de discours indirect dans un corpus de français parlé. Mémoire de maîtrise, Département de linguistique française, Université de Provence. Bastian, Sabine and Hammer, Françoise 2004 “La citation journalistique – une étude contrastive”. In Le Discours rapporté dans tous ses états, J. M. López-Muñoz, S. Marnette and L. Rosier (eds), 519–530. Paris: L’Harmattan. Bauche, Henri 1928 Le Français populaire; grammaire, syntaxe et dictionnaire du français tel qu’on le parle dans le peuple de Paris, avec tous les termes d’argot usuels. Paris: Payot [2nd edition]. Bauer, Brigitte L. M. 1996 The verb in indirect speech in Old French: System in change”. In Reported Speech: forms and Functions of the Verb, T. Janssen and W. Van der Wurff (eds), 75–96. Amsterdam-Philadelphia: John Benjamins. Baumgartner, Emmanuèle 1995 Le Récit médiéval. Paris: Hachette. Baynham, Mike 1996 “Direct speech: what’s it doing in non-narrative discourse?” Journal of Pragmatics 25: 61–81. Baynham, Mike & Slembrouck, Stef 1999 “Speech Representation and Institutional Discourse”. Text. 19 (4): 439–457. Beer, Jeanette M. 1981 Narrative Convention of Truth in the Middle Ages. Geneva: Droz. Benveniste, Emile 1966 Problèmes de linguistique générale. I. Paris: Gallimard. — — — 1971 Problems in General Linguistics [Translation by E. Meek. Florida: University of Miami Press. [Gallimard 1966]]. — — — 1974 Problèmes de linguistique générale. II. Gallimard. Paris. Bertrand, Roxane & Espesser, Robert 1998 “Prosodie et Discours rapporté: la mise en scene des voix”. In Pragmatics in 1998: Selected papers from the 6th International Pragmatics Conference, Jef Verschueren (ed), 45–56. Volume 2. Antwerp: International Pragmatics Association. Bertrand, Roxane 1999 “De l’hétérogénéité de la Parole. Analyse énonciative de phénomènes prosodiques et kinésiques dans l’interaction interindividuelle”, Thèse de Doctorat, Université de Provence.

References 

Blanchard, Joël 1991 “Commynes et l’historiographie de son temps”. In Recherches sur la littérature du XVe siècle. Actes du Vie Colloque international sur le Moyen Français, 191– 205. Milan: Vitae Pensiero Publicazioni dell’ Università Cattolica. Blanche-Benveniste et al. 1990 Le français parlé : études grammaticales. Paris: Presses du CNRS. Blanche-Benveniste, Claire 1991 “Le Citazioni nell’orale e nello scritto”. In La costruzione del testo scitto nei bambini, M. Orsolini and C. Pontecorvo (eds), 259–273. Florence: La Nuova Italia Scientifica. — — — 1997 Approches de la langue parlée en français. Paris: Ophrys. Blith, Carl Jr., Recktenwald, Sigrid & Wang, Jenny 1990 “I’m Like, “Say What?!: A New Quotative”. American Speech 65: 215–227. Bonnard, Henri & Régnier, Claude 1989 Petite grammaire de l’ancien français. Paris: Magnard. Booth, Wayne 1983[1961] The Rhetoric of Fiction. Chicago: Chicago University Press. Bork, Hans Dieter 1975. “‘Neo-Français’-français avancé?: Zur Sprache Raymond Queneaus”. Romanische Forschungen 87: 1–40. Brandsma, Frank 2002 “La vérité vivifiée? Le discours direct aux débuts de la prose française”. Faits de Langues 19: 37–49. — — — 1999 “Emergent direct discourse: a performer’s nightmare ?”. In ‘Por le soie amisté’ Essays in honor of Norris J. Lacy, K. Busby and C. M. Jones (eds), 15–32. AmsterdamAtlanta: Rodopi. Bres, Jacques 1996 “Aspects de l’interaction rapportée dans le récit oral conversationnel”. Cahiers de linguistique française 3: 45–59. — — — 1997 “De l’interaction rapportée dans le récit oral”. Modèles linguistiques. 18 (1): 129–140. — — — 1998 “Entendre des voix : de quelques marqueurs dialogiques en français”. In L’autre en discours, J. Bres, R. Delamotte, F. Madray and P. Siblot. (eds). 191–212. Montpellier III: Praxiling. — — — 1999 “Vous les entendez? De quelques marqueurs dialogiques”. Modèles linguistiques 20 (2): 71–86. Bres, Jacques and Nowakowska, Aleksandra 2004 “De la mémoire des voix dans le discours : restriction, clivage. . .”. In Le Discours rapporté dans tous ses états, J. M. López-Muñoz, S. Marnette and L. Rosier (eds), 75–80. Paris: L’Harmattan. Bright, William 1982a “Literature: Written and Oral”. In Analyzing Discourse: Text and Talk. D. Tannen (ed), 271–283. Washington D.C.: Georgetown University Press. — — — 1982b “Poetic Structure in Oral Narrative”. In Spoken and Written Language; Exploring Orality and Literacy, D. Tannen (ed), 171–184. Norwood, New Jersey: Ablex Publishing Corporation. Brinton, L. 1980 “‘Represented Perception’: A Study in Narrative Style”. Poetics 9: 363–381. Bruña-Cuevas, Manuel 1988 “Le Style indirect libre chez Marie de France”. Revue de Linguistique Romane 52: 421–446. — — — 1989 “Changer l’appelation “Style Indirect Libre”?”. Romania. 110: 1–39. — — — 1996 “Le discours direct introduit par que”. Le français moderne 54 (1): 28–59. Brunot, Ferdinand 1943 Histoire de la langue française des origines à nos jours. Volume 10: La langue classique dans la tourmente. Paris: A. Colin.

 References

Buridant, Claude 2000 Grammaire nouvelle de l’ancien français. Paris: Sedes. Burns, Jane E. 1985 Arthurian Fictions, Rereading the Vulgate Cycle. Columbus, Ohio: Ohio State University Press. Busby, Keith 2002 Codex and Context. Reading Old French Verse Narrative in Manuscript. Amsterdam-New York, NY: Rodopi. Caldas-Coulthard, Carmen Rosa 1994 “On Reporting Reporting: the Representation of Speech in Factual and Factional Narratives”. In Advances in Written Text Analysis, M. Coulthard (ed), 295–320. London-New York: Routledge. Calin, William 1993 “Narrative Technique in Fourteenth-Century France: Froissart and his Chroniques”. In Studies in Honor of Hans-Erich Keller, R. T. Pickens (ed), 227–236. Kalamazoo, Michigan: Medieval Institute Publications Western Michigan University. Cavell, Richard Anthony 1986 “Sub Voce: Voice and the Poetics of Indirection in Flaubert, George Eliot and Verga”. Dissertation Abstracts International 47 (6): 2150A. Celle, Agnès 2004 “La traduction du conditionnel journalistique : modes de construction de l’altérité énonciative en français, en anglais et en allemand”. In Le Discours rapporté dans tous ses états, J. M. López-Muñoz, S. Marnette and L. Rosier (eds), 500–509. Paris: L’Harmattan. Cerquiglini, Bernard 1978 “La Parole étrange”. Langue française 40: 7–16. — — — 1981 La Parole médiévale. Paris: Minuit. — — — 1984 “Le Style indirect libre et la modernité”. Langages 73: 7–16. Chafe, Wallace 1982 “Integration and Involvement in Speaking, Writing, and Oral Literature”. In Spoken and Written Language; Exploring Orality and Literacy, D. Tannen (ed), 35–53. Norwood, New Jersey: Ablex Publishing Corporation. — — — 1985 “Linguistic Differences Produced by Differences Between Speaking and Writing”. In Literacy, Language and Learning. The Nature and Consequences of Reading and Writing, D. R. Olson, N. Torrance and A. Hildyard (eds), 105–123. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. — — — 1994 Discourse, Consciousness and Time: The Flow and Displacement of Consciousness Experience in Writing and Speaking. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Chafe, Wallace & Danielewicz, Jane 1987 “Properties of Spoken and Written Language”. In Comprehending Oral and Written Language, R. Horowitz and S. J. Samuel (eds), 82–113. New York-San Francisco-London: Academic Press. Chafe, Wallace & Tannen, Deborah 1987 “The Relation Between Written and Spoken Language”. Annual Review of Anthropology 16: 383–407. Charaudeau, Patrick. (ed) 1988 La Presse. Produit. Production. Réception. Paris: Didier Erudition. Charaudeau, Patrick 1991 “La communication et le droit à la parole dans une interaction du même et de l’autre”. Cahiers de praxématique 17: 27–47. — — — 1997 Le discours d’information médiatique. La construction du miroir social. Paris: Nathan. Charolles, Marcel 1987 “Spécificité et portée des prises en charge en Selon A”. Revue Européenne des sciences sociales 77 (25): 243–269. Clark, Herbert H. and Gerrig, Richard J. 1990 “Quotation as demonstration”. Language 66: 784–805.

References

Cohn, Dorrit 1978 Transparent Minds, Narrative Modes for Presenting Consciousness in Fiction. Princeton. New Jersey: Princeton University Press. Coltier, Danielle and Dendale, Patrick 2004 “Discours rapporté et évidentialité. Comparaison du conditionnel et des constructions en selon N”. In Le Discours rapporté dans tous ses états, J. M. López-Muñoz, S. Marnette and L. Rosier (eds), 587–598. Paris: L’Harmattan. Collins, Daniel. E. 2001 Reanimated voices. Speech reporting in a historical-pragmatic perspective. Amsterdam-Philapdelphia: John Benjamins. Compagnon, Antoine 1979 La seconde main ou le travail de la citation. Paris: Seuil. Coulmas, Florian. (ed) 1986a Direct and Indirect Speech. Berlin-New York: Mouton de Gruyter. Coulmas, Florian 1986b “Reported Speech: Some General Issues”. In Direct and Indirect Speech, F. Coulmas (ed), 1–28. Berlin-New York: Mouton de Gruyter. Culioli, Antoine 1978 “Valeurs aspectuelles et opérations énonciatives : l’aoristique”. In La notion d’aspect. Recherches linguistiques. V. J. David and R. Martin (eds), 181–193. Metz: Klincksieck. Dailey-O’Cain, Jennifer 2000 “The Sociolinguistic distribution of and attitudes toward focuser like and quotative like”. Journal of Sociolinguistics 4 (1): 60–80. Damourette, Jacques & Pichon, Edouard 1930–50 Des mots à la pensée. Essai de grammaire de la langue française. Paris: d’Artrey. Volume 5. Darde, Jean-Noël 1988 “Discours rapporté – discours de l’information; l’enjeu de la vérité”. In La presse. Produit. Production. Réception, P. Charaudeau (ed), 93–111. Paris: Didier Erudition. Dauzat, Albert 1930 Histoire de la langue française. Paris: Payot. Delaveau, Annie 1988 “La voix et les bruits. notes sur les verbes introducteurs du discours rapporté”. LINX 18: 125–135. Delomier, Dominique & Morel, Marie-Annick 2002 “Les deux voix de l’énonciateur en français oral spontané (propriétés intonatives)”. Faits de langue 19: 221–230. — — — 1986 “Caractéristiques intonatives et syntaxiques des incises”. DRLAV 34–35: 141– 160. Demers, Monique 1998 “Prosodie et discours. Le cas du discours rapporté en français québécois oral spontané”. Revue québécoise de linguistique 26 (1): 27–50. Dendale, Patrick & Tasmowski, Liliane (eds) 1994 “L’Evidentialité ou le marquage du savoir”. Langue Française 102. Dendale, Patrick 1993 “Le conditionnel de l’information incertaine : marqueur modal ou marqueur évidentiel?”. In Actes du XXe Congrès International de Linguistique et Philologie Romanes, Université de Zurich (6–11 avril 1992), G. Hilty (ed), 165–176. Tübingen: Francke Verlag. Volume 1. Diller, George T. 1998 “Froissart’s 1389 Travel to Béarn: A Voyage Narration to the Center of the Chroniques”. In Froissart across the genres, D. Maddox and S. Sturm-Maddox (eds), 50–60. Gainesville, Fl.: University press of Florida. Duchet, Claude 1975 “Signifiance et in-signifiance : le discours italique dans Madame Bovary”. In Colloque de Cerisy : La production du sens chez Flaubert, C. Gothot-Mersch (ed), 358–394. Paris: 10/18.



 References

— — — 1976 “Discours social et texte italique dans Madame Bovary”. In Langages de Flaubert : actes du Colloque de London, Canada, M. Issacharoff (ed), 143–163. Paris: Lettres modernes. Ducrot, Oswald 1972 Dire et ne pas dire. Paris: Hermann. — — — 1979 “L’imparfait en français”. Linguistische Berichte 60: 1–23. — — — 1980a Les mots du discours. Paris: Minuit. — — — 1980b “Mais – Les allusions à l’énonciation – délocutifs – performatifs – discours indirect”. In Le Langage en contexte, H. Parret et al. (eds), 487–575. Amsterdam: John Benjamins. — — — 1981 “Elocution and performative”. Semiotica: 181–201 — — — 1984 Le dire et le dit. Paris: Minuit. — — — 1989 Logique. structure et énonciation. Paris: Minuit. Dufournet, Jean 1969 “Art et déformation historique dans les Mémoires de Philippe de Commynes”. Romania 90 (358): 146–173. — — — 1982 Sur Philippe de Commynes: quatre études. Paris: Société d’édition d’enseignement supérieur. — — — 1994 Philippe de Commynes: un historien à l’aube des temps modernes. Bruxelles: De Boeck Université. Duggan, Joseph J. 1987 “Appropriation of Historical Knowledge by the Vernacular Epic”. In Grundriss des Romanischen Literaturen des Mittelalters, H. U. Gumbrecht et al. (eds), 285–311. Heidelberg: Carl Winter. Volume 2. Dujardin, Edouard 1931 Le monologue intérieur. Messein. Paris. Einhorn, E. 1974. Old French, a Concise Handbook. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Ehrlich, Susan 1990 Point of View, A Linguistic Analysis of Literary Style. London-New York: Routledge. Eurenius, Malin 1998 La connotation discursive. Étude sur la subjectivité langagière dans quatre articles de journaux français. Stockholm: Stockholms universitet. [80poängsuppsats. Institutionen för franska och italienska]. — — — 2000 Étude pilote des marqueurs polyphoniques dans quelques éditoriaux de la presse quotidienne. Stockholm: Stockholms universitet. [120-poängsuppsats. Institutionen för franska och italienska]. Fairclough, Norman 1988 “Discourse Representation in Media Discourse”. Sociolinguistics 17: 125–139. — — — 1994 “Conversationalization of public discourse and the authority of the consumer”. In The Authority of the consumer, R. Keat, N. Whiteley and N. Abercrombie (eds), 253–268. London: Routledge. — — — 1995 Media discourse. London-New York: E. Arnold. Fambrough, Preston 1987 “The Ironies of Flaubert’s Free Indirect Discourse”. West Virginia University Philological Papers 33: 10–15. Ferrara, Kathleen & Bell, Barbara 1995 “Sociolinguistic Variation and Discourse Function of Constructed Dialogue Introducers: The Case of Be+Like”. American Speech 70: 265–290. Flavin, L. 1987 “Mansfield Park: Free Indirect Discourse and the Psychological Novel”. Studies in the Novel 19: 137–159.

References 

Fleischman, Suzanne and Yaguello, Marina 2004 “Discourse Markers Across Languages? Evidence from English and French”. In Discourse across Languages and Cultures, C. L. Moder and A. Martinovic-Zic. (eds), Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Fleischman, Suzanne 1983 “On the Representation of History and Fiction in the Middle Ages”. History and Theory, Studies in the Philosophy of History 23 (3): 278–310. — — — 1990 Tense and Narrativity: From Medieval Performance to Modern Fiction. Austin: University of Texas Press. — — — 1998 “Des jumeaux du discours”. La Linguistique 34: 31–48. Fløttum, Kjersti 1998 “Cohérence textuelle et polyphonie”. In Proceedings of the 16th International Congress of Linguists (Paris 1997), B. Caron (ed), Oxford: Pergamon/ Elsevier [CD-ROM. Paper no. 0330]. — — — 1999a “Polyphonie et typologie textuelle : quelques questions”. Tribune 9: 81–96. — — — 1999b “Linguistic polyphony – an introduction and some applications”. In The Dialogical Perspective and Bakhtine, O. Dysthe (ed), 100–111. Bergen: University of Bergen. — — — 2000a “Le discours rapporté dans l’éditorial”. Travaux de Linguistique 41: 107–115. — — — 2000b “Combining linguistic and literary perspectives on polyphony – a methodological challenge”. In Polyphonie – linguistique et littéraire, I. M. Olsen (ed), 15–30. Roskilde: Samfundslitteratur Roskilde. — — — 2000c “La perspective énonciative dans les typologies textuelles”. In XIV Skandinaviska romanistkongressen, J. Nystedt (ed), Stockholm: Almqvist and Wiksell International [CD-ROM]. — — — 2000d “Note sur la problématique des niveaux de l’analyse polyphonique – de la phrase au texte”. In Polyphonie – linguistique et littéraire, II, M. Olsen (ed), 19–31. Roskilde: Samfundslitteratur Roskilde. Fløttum, Kjersti & Norén, Coco 2002 “Polyphonie : de l’énoncé au texte”. In Les facettes du dire. Hommage à Oswald Ducrot. M. Carel.(ed), 83–91. Paris: Kimé. Fludernik, Monika 1993 The Fictions of Language and the Language of Fictions: The Linguistic Representation of Speech and Consciousness. London: Routledge. — — — 1996 Towards a “Natural Narratology”. London: Routledge. — — — 2001 “New Wine in Old Bottles? Voice, Focalization, and New Writing”. New Literary History: A Journal of Theory and Interpretation 32 (3): 619–638. Fónagy, Ivan 1986 “Reported Speech in French and Hungarian”. In Direct and Indirect Speech, F. Coulmas (ed), 255–308. Berlin-New York: Mouton de Gruyter. Foulet, Lucien 1963. Petite syntaxe de l’ancien français. Paris: Champion. Fowler, Roger 1991 Language in the News: Discourse and Ideology in the Press. London: Routledge. Foucault, Michel 1969 L’Archéologie du savoir. Paris: Gallimard. Franckel, Jean-Jacques and Lebaud, Daniel 1990 Les figures du sujet. A propos des verbes de perception, sentiment, connaissance. Gap-Paris: Ophrys. Frei, Henri 1929 La Grammaire des fautes. Genève: Slatkine [reprint 1982]. Gadet, Françoise 1992 Le Français populaire. Paris: Presses universitaires de France. Gaitet, Pascale 1987 “Popular Language in the Literary Text: Zola, Céline, Queneau”. Dissertation Abstracts International 47 (7): 2606A.

 References

Gardin, Bernard 1996 “De l’usage meurtrier du discours rapporté dans le dernier chapitre de l’Éducation sentimentale”. Cahiers du français contemporain 3: 211–224. Garnier, Sylvie and Sitri, Frédérique 2004 “Le Discours autre dans l’énoncé concessif ”. In Le Discours rapporté dans tous ses états, J. M. López-Muñoz, S. Marnette and L. Rosier (eds), 570–575. Paris: L’Harmattan. Gaulmyn, Marie-Madeleine (de) 1981 “Citation et manipulation : manipulations des citations par le texte et du lecteur par les citations”. In L’argumentation, 139–152. Lyon: Presses universitaires de Lyon. — — — 1983 Les verbes de communication dans la structuration du discours. Essai sur la réflexivité du langage. Récits d’enfants et échanges entre enfants et adultes. Thèse de doctorat d’État, Paris VIII. — — — 1992 “Le discours rapporté dans le langage parlé”. In Actes du Congrès ANEFLE 1989, Grammaire et français langue étrangère, A.-M. Jaussaud and J. Pétrissans (eds), 22–33. Grenoble. — — — 1994 “Effets en retour du discours rapporté dans le récit oral de témoignage”. In Le Récit oral, questions de narrativité, J. Brès (ed), 385–396. Montpellier: Praxiling. — — — 1996 “Témoignage et crédibilité. Performativité du discours rapporté”. Cahiers du français contemporain 3: 27–44. — — — 1997 “La genèse des marques formelles du discours rapporté dans le texte écrit”. Modèles Linguistiques 18 (1): 53–73. Genette, Gérard 1972 Figures III. Paris: Seuil. — — — 1983 Nouveau discours du récit. Paris: Seuil. — — — 1993 [1991] Fiction and diction. Ithaca-London: Cornell University Press. [English Translation by Catherine Porter]. Gibson, Walker 1950 “Authors, speakers, readers and mock readers”. College English 11: 265– 269. Ginsburg, Michal Peled 1970. “Free Indirect Discourse: Theme and Narrative Voice in Flaubert, George Eliot, and Verga”. Dissertation Abstracts International 39: 2236A. — — — 1982 “Free Indirect Discourse. A Reconsideration”. Language and Style. 15 (2): 133– 149. Gosselin, Laurent 2001 “Relations temporelles et modales dans le “conditionnel journalistique””. In Le conditionnel en français, P. Dendale and L. Tasmowski (eds), 45–66. Metz-Paris: Université de Metz-Klincsieck. Grobet, Anne 2004 “La fin des séquences de discours rapporté est-elle marquée dans le discours oral ?”. In Le Discours rapporté dans tous ses états, J. M. López-Muñoz, S. Marnette and L. Rosier (eds), 307–318. Paris: L’Harmattan. Gruber, Helmut 1993 “Evaluation devices in newspaper reports”. Journal of Pragmatics 19: 469–486. Guentchéva, Zlatka 1994 “Manifestations de la catégorie du médiatif dans les temps du français”. Langue française 102: 8–23. Guiraud, Pierre 1971 “Modern Linguistics Looks at Rhetoric: Free Indirect Style”. Yearbook of Comparative Criticism 3: 77–89. Haillet, Pierre 1995 Le conditionnel dans le discours journalistique. Neuville (Québec): Bref. Halliday, Michael Alexander Kirkwood 1978 Language as Social Semiotic. London: Edward Arnold.

References 

Halliday, Michael Alexander Kirkwood & Hasan, Ruqaiya 1976 Cohesion in English. London: Longman. Hanote, Sylvie & Chuquet, Hélène 2000 “Discours rapporté dans un corpus oral : problèmes de frontières”. Les Cahiers FORELL 14: 145–165. Hanote, Sylvie & Vallée, Michaël 2001 “Say : processus de grammaticalisation?”. Travaux du Cerlico 14: 94–111. Harris, Martin 1978 The Evolution of French Syntax: A Comparative Approach. London: Longman. Hasenohr, Geneviève 1990 Introduction à l’ancien français de Guy Raynaud de Lage. Paris: SEDES [New edition]. Hickmann, Maya 1993 “The Boundaries of Reported Speech in Narrative Discourse: Some Developmental Aspects”. In Reflexive Language : Reported Speech and Metapragmatics, J. A. Lucy (ed), 63–90. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Holm, Helge Vidar 2000 “Monologue intérieur ou style direct libre ? Approche axiologique d’un exemple de Madame Bovary”. In Actes du XIVe Congrès des Romanistes scandinaves, Stockholm 10–15 août 1999, J. Nystedt (ed), Stockholm: Almquist et Wiksell. [CDROM]. — — — 2002 “La stratégie textuelle de Madame Bovary”. Tribune 13: 131–161. — — — 2004 “Le Discours indirect libre dans Madame Bovary : la fonction du connecteur mais”. “ In Le Discours rapporté dans tous ses états, J. M. López-Muñoz, S. Marnette and L. Rosier (eds), 113–122. Paris: L’Harmattan. Jacob, L. 1987 “Discours rapporté et intonation : illusion ou réalité de la polyphonie ?”. Etudes de linguistique appliquée 66: 71–87. Jakobson, Roman 1957 “Shifters, verbal categories, and the Russian verb”. Russian Language Project. Department of Slavic Languages and Literatures. Harvard University. — — — 1961 “Closing Statements: Linguistics and Poetics”. In Style in Language, T. A. Sebeok (ed), 350–377. Cambridge, Mass: MIT Press. Jahn, Manfred 1992. ”Contextualizing Represented Speech and Thought”. Journal of Pragmatics 17: 347–367. Jaubert, Anna 2000 “Le discours indirect libre. Dire et Montrer : Approche pragmatique”. In Le style indirect libre et ses contextes, S. Mellet and M. Vuillaume (eds), 49–69. Amsterdam-Atlanta: Rodopi. Jauss, Hans Robert 1970 “Littérature médiévale et théorie des genres”. Poétique 1: 79–101. — — — 1982 Toward an Aesthetic of Reception. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press. Volume 2 [English translation by Timothy Bahti]. Jeandillou, Jean-François 1985 “Queneau ou le ‘dyscours’ de la linguistique”. In La Linguistique fantastique, S. Auroux, J.-C. Chevalier, N. Jacques-Chaquin and C. Marchello-Nizia (eds), 211–221. Paris: Denoël. Johnston, R. C. 1976 “The Historicity of Jordan Fantosme”. Journal of Medieval History 2: 159–168. Johnstone, Barbara 1987 “‘He says ... so I Said’: Verb Tense Alternation and Narrative Depictions of Authority in American English”. Linguistics 25: 33–52. Jucker, Andreas H. & Sara W. Smith 1998 “And People Just You Know Like ‘Wow.’ Discourse Markers as Negotiating Strategies”. In Discourse Markers. Descriptions and Theory, A. H. Jucker and Y. Ziv (eds), 172–201. Amsterdam-Philadelphia: John Benjamins.

 References

Jünke, Claudia 2003 Die Polyphonie der Diskurse: Formen narrativer Sprach- und Bewusstseinskritik in Gustave Flauberts Madame Bovary und L’Education sentimentale. Würzburg, Germany: Königshausen and Neumann. Kay, Sarah 1987 “Le Passé indéfini, problèmes de la représentation du passé dans quelques chansons de geste féodales”. Au carrefour des routes d’Europe, la chanson de geste. Xe Congrès International de la Société Rencesvals pour l’étude des épopées romanes. Strasbourg. 1985. Senefiance 21: 697–709. — — — 1995 The ‘Chansons de Geste’ in the Age of Romance: Political Fictions. Oxford: Clarendon Press. Kelly, Douglas 1992 The Art of Medieval French Romance. Wisconsin: University of Wisconsin Press. Kerbrat-Orecchioni, Catherine 1980 L’énonciation de la subjectivité dans le langage. Paris: A. Colin. Kibler, William 1984 An Introduction to Old French. New York: Modern Language Association. Klewitz, Gabriele & Couper-Kuhlen, Elizabeth 1999 “Quote-unquote? The role of prosody in the contextualization of reported speech sequences”. Pragmatics 9 (4): 459–485. Komur, Greta 2004 “L’Ilot textuel et la prise de distance par le locuteur dans le genre journalistique”. In Le Discours rapporté dans tous ses états, J. M. López-Muñoz, S. Marnette and L. Rosier (eds), 54–63. Paris: L’Harmattan. Korzen, Hanne & Nølke, Henning 1990 “Projet pour une théorie sur les emplois du conditionnel”. Actes du XI e Congrˇcs des Romanistes Scandinaves, 301–312. Trondheim: University of Trondheim. Kronning, Hans 2002 “Le conditionnel ‘journalistique’ : médiation et modalisation épistémiques”. Romansk Forum 16 (2): 561–575. Kukenheim, Louis 1967 Grammaire historique de la langue française : les parties du discours. Leiden: Universiteit Pers. Kullmann, Dorothea 1992 “Zur Wiedergabe des style indirect libre durch die deutschen Übersetzer von Madame Bovary”. In Geschichte, System, Literarische Übersetzung / Histories , Systems, Literary Translations, H. Kittel (ed), 323–33. Berlin: Erich Schmidt Verlag [Göttinger Beiträge zur Internationalen Übersetzungsforschung 5]. — — — 1995 “Beobachtungen zum Style indirect libre in den Romanen Madame Bovary und L’Assommoir sowie zu seiner Wiedergabe im Deutschen”. In Erlebte Rede und impressionistischer Stil. Europäische Erzählprosa im Vergleich mit ihren deutschen Übersetzungen, D. Kullmann (ed), 89–135. Göttingen: Wallstein. Labov, William 1972 “The Transformation of Experience in Narrative Syntax”. In Language in the Inner City. 354–396. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press. — — — 1982 “Speech Actions and Reactions in Personal Narrative”. In Analyzing Discourse : Text and Talk, D. Tannen (ed), 219–247. Washington D.C: Georgetown University Press. Labov, William & Waletzky, Joshua 1967 “Narrative Analysis: Oral Versions of Personal Experience”. In Essays on the Verbal and Visual Arts, J. Helm (ed), 12–44. Seattle: University of Washington Press. Lacy, Norris 1994 “Emergent Direct Discourse in the Vulgate Cycle”. Arthuriana 4: 19–29.

References 

Lakoff, Robin Tolmach 1984 “The pragmatics of subordination”. In Proceeding of the Tenth Annual Meeting of the Berkeley Linguistics Society, C. Brugman and M. Macaulay (eds), 481–492. Berkeley. Landeweerd, Rita and Vet, Co 1996 Tense in (free) indirect discourse in French”. Reported Speech: forms and Functions of the Verb, T. Janssen and W. Van der Wurff (eds), 141–164. Amsterdam-Philadelphia: John Benjamins. Laroche-Bouvy, Danielle 1988 “Emergence de l’interaction verbale dans la presse écrite. fonction de la citation”. In La presse. Produit. Production. Réception, P. Charaudeau (ed), 113–130. Paris: Didier Erudition. Larochette, Joe. 1980 Le langage et la réalité. Volume 2: L’emploi des formes de l’indicatif en français. München: Fink. Le Bidois, Georges and Le Bidois, Robert 1978 Syntaxe du français moderne, ses fondements historiques et psychologiques. Paris: Picard [2nd edition]. Lebre, Monique 1993 “Remarques sur le fonctionnement des énoncés rapportés au discours direct dans des interviews. Cahiers du CRELEF, 35 (1): 35–51. Leech, Geoffrey & Short, Michael 1981 Style in Fiction, A Linguistic Introduction to English Fictional Prose. London-New York: Longman. Leech, Geoffrey, McEnery, Tom and Wynne, Martin 1997 “Further levels of annotation”. In Corpus Annotation. R. Garside, G. Leech and T. McEnery (eds), 85–101. London: Longman. Lefeuvre, Florence 2004 “Comme quoi : introducteur du discours indirect”. In Le Discours rapporté dans tous ses états, J. M. López-Muñoz, S. Marnette and L. Rosier (eds), 549– 558. Paris: L’Harmattan. Legge, Mary Dominica 1963 Anglo-Norman Literature and its background. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Léon, Jacqueline 1988 “Formes de discours direct dans des récits oraux”. LINX 18: 107–123. Levine, Robert 1985 “Myth and Anti-Myth in Cuvelier’s La Vie Vaillante de Bertrand Du Guesclin”. Viator 16: 259–275. — — — 1991 “Deadly Diatribe in the Récits d’un ménestrel de Reims”. Res Publica Litterarum 14: 115–126. — — — 1998 “The Pious Traitor: Rhetorical Reinventions of the Fall of Antioch”. Mittellateinisches Jahrbuch 33: 59–80. Li, Charles N. 1986 “Direct Speech and Indirect Speech: A Functional Study”. In Direct and Indirect Speech, F. Coulmas (ed), 29–45. Berlin-New York: Mouton de Gruyter. Linde, Charlotte 1996 “Whose story is this?: Point of view and group identity in oral narrative. In Sociolinguistic Variation. Data, Theory, and Analysis, J. Arnold, R. Blake and B. Davidson (eds), 333–359. Stanford, Ca: CSLI Publication. Lodge, Anthony 1990 “Literature and history in the Chronicle of Jordan Fantosme”. French Studies. 44(3): 257–270. Longacre, Robert E. 1983 The Grammar of Discourse. New York: Plenum Press. López Muñoz, Juan Manuel 2002 ”Discours rapporté et subordonnée relative en ancien français”. Faits de Langues 19: 51–60. — — — 1999 ”Fórmulas señalizadoras de estilo indirecto en la Mort Artu”. Estudios de Lengua y Literatura francesas 12: 131–149.

 References

López-Muñoz, Juan Manuel, Marnette, Sophie and Rosier, Laurence (eds) 2002 “Le Discours rapporté”. Faits de langue 19: 211–220. — — — 2003 “Formes et stratégies du discours rapporté: Approches linguistique et littéraire des genres de discours”. Estudios de Lengua y Literatura francesas. 14. — — — 2004 Le Discours rapporté dans tous ses états. Paris: L’Harmattan. Loufrani, Claude 1983 “Qui parle de qui?” Gars, Recherches sur le français parlé 4: 175–194. — — — 1985 “Le Locuteur collectif. Typologie de configurations discursives”. Gars, Recherches sur le français parlé 6: 169–193. Lucy, John Arthur (ed) 1993 Reflexive Language: Reported Speech and Metapragmatics. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Luzzati, Françoise and Luzzati, Daniel 1987 “Oral et familier: Le Style oralisé”. L’Information Grammaticale 34: 15–21. Magaud, Véronique 2004 “Discours rapporté et argumentation : l’exemple de la consultation de voyance radiophonique”. In Le Discours rapporté dans tous ses états, J. M. López-Muñoz, S. Marnette and L. Rosier (eds), 275–286. Paris: L’Harmattan. Magro, Elgar-Paul 2004 “De quelques aspects du discours rapporté en maltais oral spontané: étude de deux récits”. In Le Discours rapporté dans tous ses états, J. M. López-Muñoz, S. Marnette and L. Rosier (eds), 287–296. Paris: L’Harmattan. Maingueneau, Dominique 1991a L’Analyse du discours. Paris: Hachette. — — — 1991b L’Enonciation en linguistique française, embrayeurs. ‘temps’, discours rapporté. Paris: Hachette Supérieur. — — — 1993 Eléments de linguistique pour le texte littéraire. Paris: Dunod [3rd edition]. — — — 1998 Analyser les textes de communication. Paris: Dunod. Marchello-Nizia, Christiane 1978 “Ponctuation et unité de lecture dans les récits médiévaux ou je ponctue, tu lis, il théorise”. Langue française 40: 32–44. — — — 1979 Histoire de la langue française aux XIVe et XVe siècles. Paris: Bordas-Dunod. — — — 1984 “L’Historien et son prologue”. In La Chronique et l’histoire au Moyen-Âge, D. Poirion (ed), 13–25. Paris: Cultures et civilisations médiévales. 2. Marchello-Nizia, Christiane & Picoche, Jacqueline 1996 Histoire de la langue française. Paris: Nathan [4th edition]. Marnette, Sophie 1996 “Réflexions sur le discours indirect libre en français médiéval”. Romania 114: 1–49. — — — 1998 Narrateur et points de vue dans la littérature française médiévale : Une approche linguistique. Bern: Peter Lang. — — — 1999a “Il le vos mande, ge sui qui le vos di : Les stratégies du dire dans les chansons de geste”. La Revue de linguistique romane 63 (251–252): 387–417. — — — 1999b “Narrateur et points de vue dans les chroniques médiévales : une approche linguistique”. In The Medieval Chronicle, Proceedings of the 1st International Conference on the Medieval Chronicle, Utrecht 13–16 July 1996, E. Kooper (ed), 174–190. Amsterdam-Atlanta: Rodopi. — — — 2001 “Du discours insolite: Le discours indirect sans que”. French Studies. 55(3): 297–313. — — — 2002a “Aux frontières du discours rapporté”. Revue Romane 37(1): 3–30. — — — 2002b “Etudier les pensées rapportées en français parlé: Mission impossible?”. Faits de langue 19: 211–220.

References 

— — — 2002c “Je dis que . . . Je pense que . . . Le je narrateur, auteur, témoin et personnage des chroniques”. LYNX 32: 271–284. — — — 2002d “Sources du récit et discours rapportés : L’art de la représentation dans les chroniques et les romans français des 14e et 15e siècles”. Le Moyen Français 51–53: 435– 459. — — — 2003 “Stratégies du discours rapporté et genres de discours dans la presse contemporaine”. Estudios de Lengua y Literatura francesas 14: 127–148. Martin, Robert 1983 Pour une logique du sens. Paris: Presses universitaires de France. Martin, Robert & Wilmet, Marc 1980 Manuel du français du moyen âge, 2, Syntaxe du moyen français. Bordeaux: Sobodi. Mayes, Patricia 1990 “Quotation in Spoken English”. Studies in Language 14: 325–363. Mc Hale, Brian 1978 “Free Indirect Discourse: A Survey of Recent Accounts”. PTL: A Journal for Descriptive Poetics and Theory of Literature 3: 249–287. Meiller, Albert 1966 “Le Problème du “style direct introduit par que” en ancien français”. Revue de linguistique romane 30: 353–373. Ménard, Philippe 1973 Manuel du français du moyen âge, 1, Syntaxe de l’ancien français. Bordeaux: Sobodi. Meteva, Elena 2002 “La Citation journalistique avec ou sans guillemets”. Faits de langue. 19: 117–24. — — — 2004 “Le Discours électoral à travers le prisme de la presse”. In Le Discours rapporté dans tous ses états, J. M. López-Muñoz, S. Marnette and L. Rosier (eds), 353–361. Paris: L’Harmattan. Michelson, David 1970 “Zazie dans le metro: Raymond Queneau linguiste des parigots et la belle langue françoise”. Dissertation Abstracts International 30: 5431A–32A. Mochet, Marie-Anne & Cintrat, Iva 1995 “De quelques formes de stéréotypie dans le discours. Cahiers du français contemporain 2: 109–126. Mochet, Marie-Anne 1993a “Place du discours narrativisé dans la mise en scène des situations de parole”. Cahiers du CRELEF 35: 93–135. — — — 1993b Contribution à l’étude de la “mise en scène” du discours : Analyse de la variation discursive en situation d’entretien. Thèse de doctorat. Université de Franche Comté. — — — 1994a “De la notion de simplicité dans la représentation des faits de discours”. Cahiers du français contemporain 1: 247–262. — — — 1994b “A propos des modes de représentation du discours d’autrui dans un corpus oral”. Didactique et pédagogie. 25: 22–29. — — — 1996 “De la non-littéralité à l’exemplification: discours direct en situation d’entretien”. Cahiers du français contemporain 3: 61–76. — — — 2000 “Procédures de reformulation et supports multimédias”. In Répétition. Altération. reformulation. (Colloque international. Besançon. Juin 1998). 231–256. Besançon: Presses Universitaires de Franche Comté. Moignet, Gérard 1973 Grammaire de l’ancien français, Morphologie – Syntaxe. Paris: Klincksieck. Moirand Sophie 2004 “La circulation interdiscursive comme lieu de construction de domaines de mémoire par les médias”. In Le Discours rapporté dans tous ses états, J. M. López-Muñoz, S. Marnette and L. Rosier (eds), 373–384. Paris: L’Harmattan.

 References

— — — 2000a “Variations discursives dans deux situations contrastées de la presse ordinaire”. Les Carnets du cediscor 6: 45–62. — — — 2000b “Les indices dialogiques de contextualisation dans la presse écrite”. Cahiers de praxématique 33: 145–184. Monville-Burston, Monique 1993 “Les verba dicendi dans la presse d’information”. Langue française 98: 48–66. Morel, Mary-Annick 1996 “Le discours rapporté direct dans l’oral spontané”. Cahiers du français contemporain 3: 77–90. Mouillaud, Maurice & Tétu, Jean-François 1989 Le Journal quotidien. Lyon: Presses Universitaires de Lyon. Mussio, Thomas E. 2000 “Anticommunity and Chaos: The Role of Free Indirect Discourse in Zola’s Germinal”. In Caverns of Night: Coal Mines in Art, Literature, and Film, W. B. Thesing (ed.), 71–88. Columbia, SC: U of South Carolina Press. Myers, Greg 1999 “Functions of reported speech in group discussions”. Applied Linguistics 20 (3): 376–401. New Literary History: A Journal of Theory and Interpretation. 2001. 32 (3). Nølke, Henning & Olsen, Michel 2000 “Donc pour conclure. Polyphonie et style indirect libre: analyses littéraire et linguistique”. In Actes du XIVe Congrès des Romanistes scandinaves, Stockholm 10–15 août 1999, J. Nystedt (ed), Stockholm: Almquist et Wiksell [CD-ROM]. Norén, Coco 1999 Reformulation et conversation. De la sémantique du topos aux fonctions interactionnelles. Uppsala: Acta universitatis uppsaliensis. [Studia romanica. 60]. — — — 2000a “L’argumentation par autorité dans les répliques de Madame Bovary”. Polyphonie linguistique et littéraire 1: 31–52. — — — 2000b “Reformulation polémique et contexte conversationnel”. Actes du XXIIe Congrès de linguistique et Philologie romanes à Bruxelles, juillet 1998, 527–37. Tübingen: Max Niemeyer Verlag. — — — 2001 “C’est vrai, puisque Kerstin l’a dit Argumenter par autorité dans la conversation”. In Langage et référence, Hans Kronning et al. (eds), 439–447. Uppsala: Acta universitatis upsaliensis. Nyrop, Kristoffer 1930 Grammaire historique de la langue française, VI Syntaxe, particules et verbes. Copenhague: Gyldenaloke Boghandel Nordisk Forlag. O’Kelly, Dairine 1997 “Discours rapporté et discours importé dans les échanges dialogiques (domaines anglais). Modèles linguistiques 35(18): 111–27. Ochs, Elinor 1979 “Planned and Unplanned Discourse”. In Syntax and Semantics. Volume 12: Discourse and Syntax, T. Givon. (ed), 51–80, New York-San Francisco-London: Academic Press. Olsen, Michel 1999a “Polyphonie et monologue intérieur”. Tribune 9: 49–79. — — — 1999b “Sarraute: La Voix de l’authenticité ?”. In Etudes de linguistique et de littérature dédiées à Morten Nøjgaard, G. Boysen and J. Moestrup (eds), 369–86. Odense: Odense University Press. Palmer, J. J. N. (ed) 1981 Froissart: Historian. Woodbridge: Boydell. Palmer, J. J. N. 1982 “Froissart et le Héraut Chandos”. Le Moyen Age: Revue d’Histoire et de Philologie 88: 271–292.

References 

Parkes, Malcolm B. 1992 Pause and Effect: An Introduction to the History of Punctuation in the West. Menston: Scholar Press. Pascal, Roy 1977 The Dual Voice : Free Indirect Speech and its Functioning in the NineteenthCentury European Novel. Manchester: Manchester Unity Press. Passias, Katherine 1976 “Deep and Surface Structure of the Narrative Pronoun vous in Butor’s La Modification and its Relationship to Free Indirect Style”. Language and Style 19: 197–212. Perret, Michèle 1981 “A la fin de sa vie ne fuz-je mie. . .”. Revue des sciences humaines. 55:183: 17–37. — — — 1995 “Histoire, nomination, référence”. LINX 32: 173–191. — — — 1997 “Le discours rapporté dans Le bel inconnu”. L’Information grammaticale 72: 13–18. Perrin, Laurent 1994 “Mots et énoncés mentionnés dans le discours”. Cahiers de linguistique française 15: 217–248. — — — 1995 “Du dialogue rapporté aux reprises diaphoniques”. Cahiers de linguistique française 16: 211–240. — — — 1996 “De la structure énonciative et de l’organisation polyphonique d’un échange épistolaire”. Cahiers de linguistique française 18: 129–156. — — — 1997 “Force réflexive des énoncés, délocutivité et discours rapporté”. Cahiers de linguistique française 19: 181–203. — — — 1999 “La fonction des reprises diaphoniques locales dans le dialogue”. In Selected Papers from the 6th International Pragmatics Conference, Jeff Verschueren (ed), 448–61. Volume 2. Antwerp: International Pragmatics Association. — — — 2000a “L’argument d’autorité comme forme de modalité ‘allusive’ dans la conversation”. In Autour de l’argumentation. Rationaliser l’expérience quotidienne, Guylaine Martel (ed), 81–106. Québec (Canada): Nota Bene. — — — 2000b “Remarques sur la dimension générique et sur la dimension dénominative des proverbes”. Langages 139: 69–80. — — — 2002 “Les formes de la citation”. Faits de langue 19: 147–158. Perrin, Laurent & Vincent, Diane 1997 “L’interprétation du verbe “dire” en contexte conversationnel: des clauses performatives aux clauses descriptives”. Revue de sémantique et pragmatique 2: 137–153. — — — 1998 “Reported speech: narrative action or dramatization of personal experience?”. Papers in Sociolinguistics, 239–48.Québec (Canada): Nota Bene. — — — 1999 “On the narrative vs nonnarrative functions of reported speech: A sociopragmatic study”. Journal of Sociolinguistics 3 (3): 291–313. — — — 2001 “Raconter sa journée : des histoires de conversations dans la conversation”. Revue québécoise de linguistique 29 (1): 179–201. Perruchot, Claude 1975 “Le style indirect libre et Ia question du sujet dans Madame Bovary”. In Colloque de Cerisy : La production du sens chez Flaubert, C. Gothot-Mersch (ed), 253–274. Paris: 10/18. Petitjean, André 1987 “Les faits divers : polyphonie énonciative et hétérogénéité textuelle”. Langue française 74: 73–96. Peytard, Jean. (ed) 1993 “Les manifestations du “discours relaté” oral et écrit”. Cahiers du Crelef. 35.

 References

Philippe, Gilles 2000 “Les divergences énonciatives dans les récits de fiction”. Langue Française 128: 30–51. Price, Glanville 1971 The French Language : Present and Past. London: Edward Arnold. Prince, Gerald J. 1980 “On Attributive Discourse in Madame Bovary”. In Pre-Text/ Text/Context: Essays on Nineteenth-Century French Literature, R. L. Mitchell (ed), 269– 275. Ohio: Ohio State University Press. Columbus Publication. Proust, Marcel 1920 “A propos du ‘style’ de Flaubert”. Nouvelle Revue Française 7 (14): 72–90. Psaki, Regina (ed) 1995 The Romance of the Rose or of Guillaume de Dole. New York: Garland. Rabatel, Alain 1998 La construction textuelle du point de vue. Delachaux et Niestlé. Paris. — — — 2001 “Les Représentations de la parole intérieure”. Langue française 132: 72–95. — — — 2003 “Les Verbes de perception en contexte d’effacement énonciatif: du point de vue représenté aux discours représentés”. Travaux de Linguistique 46: 49–88. — — — 2004 “Les Verbes de perception, entre point de vue représenté et discours représentés”. In Le Discours rapporté dans tous ses états, J. M. López-Muñoz, S. Marnette and L. Rosier (eds), 81–96. Paris: L’Harmattan. Ramazani, Vaheed K. 1987 “Emma Bovary and the Free Indirect Si(g)ns of Romance”. Nineteenth-Century French Studies 15 (3): 274–284. — — — 1988 The Free Indirect Mode. Flaubert and the Poetics of Irony. Charlottesville: Univ. Press of Virginia. Reboul-Touré, Sandrine 2004 “Les Discours autour de la science : un éventail de marques linguistiques pour le discours rapporté”. In Le Discours rapporté dans tous ses états, J. M. López-Muñoz, S. Marnette and L. Rosier (eds), 362–372. Paris: L’Harmattan. Recanati, François 1981 Les Énoncés Performatifs. Contribution à la Pragmatique. Paris: Minuit. Rey, Alain and Rey-Debove, Josette (eds) 1988 Le Petit Robert, Dictionnaire alphabétique et analogique de la langue française. Paris: Dictionnaire Le Robert. Rey-Debove, Josette 1983 “Le métalangage dans le langage parlé”. Recherches sur le français parlé. Cahiers du Gars 5: 211–226. Riegel, Martin, Pellat, Jean-Christophe and Rioul, René 1994 Grammaire méthodique du français. Paris: Presses universitaires de France. Rimmon-Kenan, Shlomith 1983 Narrative Fiction. London: Methuen. Rosier, Laurence 1993a “De la stylistique sociologique suivie d’une application pratique : discours direct, presse et objectivité”. Revue belge de philologie et d’histoire 71 (3): 625– 644. — — — 1993b “Le Discours direct libre: Béquille théorique ou objet d’étude grammaticale?”. Revue de linguistique romane 57: 361–371. — — — 1995 “La Parataxe : Heurs et malheurs d’une notion linguistico-littéraire”. Travaux de Linguistique 30: 51–64. — — — 1999 Le Discours rapporté; Histoire, théories, pratiques. Paris-Bruxelles: De BoeckDuculot. — — — 2000a “Les ‘bâtards’ du discours: De la nomenclature, des discours grammaticaux et des pratiques de référence en matière de discours rapporté en français”. Cahiers de l’institut de linguistique de Louvain 1 (4): 325–343. — — — 2000b “Interjection, subjectivité, expressivité et discours rapporté à l’écrit : petits effets d’un petit discours”. Cahiers de praxématique 34: 19–49.

References 

— — — 2000c Le Moyen français revisité par l’énonciation “signes et mentions” du discours rapporté’. L’Information Grammaticale 87: 24–32. — — — 2002. “La Presse et les modalités du discours rapporté: l’effet d’hyperréalisme du discours direct surmarqué”. L’information grammaticale 94: 27–32. — — — 2003. “Le discours indirect libre : un discours en liberté surveillée”. Bulletin de la société de stylistique anglaise 24: 143–156. Rosier, Laurence and Mailleux, Catherine 2002 “ “Dire du mal de”: étude linguistique d’une énonciation médisante”. Faits de langue 19: 245–254. Roulet, Eddy 1985 “Structures hiérarchiques et polyphoniques du discours”. In L’articulation du discours en français contemporain, Eddy Roulet et al., 9–83. Bern: Peter Lang. — — — 1997 “L’organisation polyphonique et l’organisation inférentielle d’un dialogue romanesque”. Cahiers de linguistique française 19: 149–179. — — — 1999 La Description de l’organisation du discours. Du dialogue au texte. Paris: Didier. — — — 2000 “L’organisation polyphonique d’une conversation et d’une sous-conversation de Nathalie Sarraute”. Polyphonie – linguistique et littéraire 2: 1–18. Roulet, Eddy, Auchlin, Antoine, Moeschler, Jacques, Rubattel Christian and Schelling, Marianne 1985 L’articulation du discours en français contemporain. Bern: Peter Lang. Rychner, Jean 1980 “La Présence et le point de vue du narrateur dans deux récits courts. Le Lai de Lanval et la Châtelaine de Vergi”. Vox Romanica 39: 86–103. — — — 1987 “Messages et discours doubles”. In Studies in Medieval French and Literature Presented to Brian Woledge in Honour of his 80th Birthday, S. Burch-North (ed), 145– 161. Geneva: Droz. — — — 1989 “Le Discours subjectif dans les Lais de Marie de France. A propos d’une étude récente”. Revue de Linguistique Romane 53: 57–83. — — — 1990 La Narration des sentiments, des pensées et des discours dans quelques oeuvres des douxième et treizième siècles. Geneva: Droz. Sanders, José & Redeker, Gisela 1996 “Perspective and the Representation of Speech and Thought in Narrative Discourse”. In Space, Grammar, and Discourse, G. Fauconnier and E. Sweetser (eds) 290–317. Chicago: Chicago University Press. Sarraute, Nathalie 1956 L’ère du soupçon. Paris: Gallimard. Saussure, Ferdinand de 1960 [1915] Cours de linguistique générale. Paris: Payot. Reprint. Semino, Elena, Short, Michael & Culpeper, Jonathan 1997 “Using a Corpus to test and refine a model of speech and thought presentation”. Poetics 25: 17–43. Semino, Elena, Short Michael and Wynne, Martin 1999 “Hypothetical words and thoughts in contemporary British narratives”. Narrative 7 (3): 307–334. Short, Michael 1988 “Speech Presentation, the Novel and the Press”. In The Taming of the Text. Explorations in Language, Literature and Culture, W. Van Peer (ed), 61–81. London-New York: Routledge. Short, Michael, Semino, Elena & Culpeper, Jonathan 1996 “Using a Corpus for Stylistics Research: Speech and Thought Presentation”. In Using Corpora in Language Research, M. Short and J. Thomas (eds), 110–131. London: Longman. Short, Michael, Semino, Elena & Wynne, Martin 1997 “A (free direct) reply to Paul Simpson”s discourse”. Journal of Literary Semantics, 26 (3): 219–228.

 References

— — — 1999 “Reading reports: Discourse presentation in a corpus of narratives, with special reference to news reports”. In English Via Various Media, H.-J. Diller and E. Otto-Gert Stratmann (eds), 39–65. Heidelberg: Winter. — — — 2002 “Revisiting the Notion of Faithfulness in Discourse Report/(Re)presentation Using a Corpus Approach”. Language and Literature 11 (4): 325–355. Short, Michael, Wynne, Martin & Semino, Elena 1998 “Reading Reports: Discourse Presentation in a Corpus of Narratives, with Special Reference to News Reports”. In Anglistik & Englischunterricht, H.-J. Diller, E. Otto and G. Stratmann (eds), 39–66. Heidelberg: Universitatsverlag C. Winter. Sihvonen-Hautecoeur, Päivi 1993 “Discours direct à l’oral: signalisation, intégration, syntaxe”. In Actes du XXe Congrès International de Linguistique et Philologie Romanes, Université de Zurich, 6–11 avril 1992, G. Hilty (ed), 317–330. Tübingen, Basel: Francke. Volume 2. — — — 1996 “Whose words are these? Quotations in spoken French data”. In Proceedings of the 13th Scandinavian Conference of Linguistics, L. Heltoft and H. Haberland (eds), 291–304. Roskilde: Departement of languages and culture, Roskilde University. Simonin, Jenny 1984 “Les repérages énonciatifs dans les textes de presse”. In La langue au ras du texte, A. Grésillon and J. L. Lebrave. (eds), 133–203. Lille: Presses universitaires de Laval. Smock, Ann A. 1972 “The New Language of Raymond Queneau’s Novels or ‘L’histoire: qu’est-ce que ça fout?”. Dissertation Abstracts International 32: 7006A. Sneyders de Vogel, Karl 1927 Syntaxe historique du français. Groningue: J. B. Wolters [2nd edition]. Sørensen Ravn Jørgensen, Kathrine 2000 “Etude stylistique du discours de ‘l’autre’ dans Madame Bovary”. In Les polyphonistes scandinaves/De skandinaviske polyfonister. 1. M. Olsen (ed). Roskilde: Roskilde University. — — — 2004 “Mais : indice d’ouverture et de clôture du discours indirect libre”. In Le Discours rapporté dans tous ses états, J. M. López-Muñoz, S. Marnette and L. Rosier (eds), 105–212. Paris: L’Harmattan. Soutet, Olivier & Thomasset, Claude 1984 “Des Marques de la subjectivité dans les Mémoires de Commyne”. In La Chronique et l’histoire au Moyen-Âge, Daniel Poirion (ed), 27–44. Paris: Cultures et civilisations médiévales. 2. Soutet, Olivier 1992 Etudes d’ancien et de moyen français. Paris: Presses Universitaires de France. Sperber, Dan & Wilson, Deirdre 1981 “Irony and the Use-Mention Distinction”. In Radical Pragmatics, P. Cole (ed), 295–318. London: Academic Press. Spiegel, Gabrielle M. 1993 Romancing the Past. The Rise of Vernacular Prose Historiography in Thirteenth-Century France. Berkeley and Los Angeles, California: University of California Press. Spitzer, Leo 1946 “Sur le discours direct lié (DDL)”. Bulletin linguistique 14: 17–45. Sternberg, Meir 198?. “Point of View and the Indirections of Direct Speech”. Language and Style 15 (1): 67–117.

References 

Stoltz, Claire 200?. “Les discours directs libres dans Les Voyageurs de l’Impériale d’Aragon, voix hétérogènes du monde réel”. In Style, genres, auteurs, I, Ronsard, Corneille, Marivaux, Hugo, Aragon. C. Fromilhague (ed), 163–175. Paris: Presses de l’Université de Paris-Sorbonne. — — — 2003.“Polyphonie et phrase dans Le Planétarium de Nathalie Sarraute”. In Nathalie Sarraute, du tropisme à la phrase, A. Fontvieille and P. Wahl (eds), 175–187. Presses Universitaires de Lyon. Lyon. Strauch, Gérard 1974 “De quelques interprétations récentes du style indirect libre”. Recherches Anglaises et Américaines 7: 40–73. — — — 1975 “Problèmes et méthodes de l’étude linguistique du Style Indirect Libre”. In Tradition et innovation. Littérature et paralittérature. Actes du congrès de Nancy (1972), 409–428. Paris: Didier. Sullet-Nylander, Françoise 1996 “De l’intertextualité dans les titres de presse : discours rapportés”. Cahiers de la recherche. 43–62. — — — 1998 Le Titre de presse. Analyses syntaxique, pragmatique et rhétorique. Doktorsavhandling. Stockholms universitet. Stockholm. — — — 2001 “Reported speech in French media discourse”. In New Directions in Nordic Text Linguistics Discourse analysis: Methodological Issues, W. Vagle and K. Wikberg (eds), 123–136. Oslo: Novus förlag. — — — 2004 “Le Discours narrativisé : quels critères formels ?”. In Le Discours rapporté dans tous ses états, J. M. López-Muñoz, S. Marnette and L. Rosier (eds), 386–396. Paris: L’Harmattan. Swigger, Ronald T. 1972 “Reflections on Language in Queneau’s Novels”. Contemporary Literature 13: 491–506. Tamir, N. 1976 “Personal Narrative and its Linguistic Foundation”. Poetics and Theory of Literature 1: 403–29. Tannen, Deborah 1982a “Oral and Literate Strategies in Spoken and Written Narratives”. Language 58: 1–21. — — — 1982b “The Oral/Literate Continuum in Discourse”. In Spoken and Written Language; Exploring Orality and Literacy, D. Tannen (ed), 1–16. Norwood, New Jersey: Ablex Publishing Corporation. — — — 1985 “Relative Focus on Involvement in Oral and Written Discourse”. In Literacy, Language and Learning. The Nature and Consequences of Reading and Writing, D. R. Olson, N. Torrance and A. Hildyard (eds), 124–147. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. — — — 1986 “Introducing Constructed Dialogue in Greek and American Conversational and Literary Narrative”. In Direct and Indirect Speech, F. Coulmas (ed), 311–332. BerlinNew York: Mouton de Gruyter. — — — 1989 Talking Voice, Repetition, Dialogue, and Imagery in Conversational Discourse. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Teilmann, Stina 2000 “Flaubert’s Crime: Trying Free Indirect Discourse”. Literary Research: A Journal of the International Comparative Literature Association 17 (33): 74–87. Thibaudet, Albert 1922 Gustave Flaubert, sa vie, ses romans, son style. Paris: Plon. Thompson, Geoff 1996 “Voices in the text: discourse perspectives on language reports”. Applied Linguistics 17 (4): 501–530.

 References

Togeby, Knud 1974 Précis historique de grammaire française. Copenhague: Nordisk Forlag. — — — 1982 Grammaire française. Copenhague: Akademisk Forlag. Torck, Danièle 1994 “Diaphonie et Interaction dans le débat politique”. Littérature 93: 15–30. — — — 1999 “Partial Quotes in headlines and subheads in Le Monde. An exploration in polyphonic journalistic writing and opinion forming”. In Proceedings of the Fourth International Conference of the International Society for the Study of Argumentation, F. H. van Eemeren, R. Grootendorst, J. A. Blair and C. A. Willard (eds), 129–173. Amsterdam: Sic Sat. — — — 2001 “Voices of Homeless People in Street Newspapers: A Cross-Cultural Exploration”. Discourse and Society 12 (3): 371–392. — — — 2004 “Ancrage interactionnel du discours rapporté en conversation et double bind /double contrainte”. In Le Discours rapporté dans tous ses états, J. M. López-Muñoz, S. Marnette and L. Rosier (eds), 245–253. Paris: L’Harmattan. Tuomarla, Ulla 1999 “Le discours direct dans la presse écrite : un lieu de l’oralisation de l’écrit”. Faits de langues 13: 219–229. — — — 2000 La Citation mode d’emploi. Sur le fonctionnement discursif du discours rapporté direct. Saarijärvi, Finland: Academia Scientifiarum [Fennica. Ser. Humaniora. tom. 308]. — — — 2004 “La Parole telle qu’elle s’écrit ou la voie de l’oral à l’écrit en passant par le discours direct”. In Le Discours rapporté dans tous ses états, J. M. López-Muñoz, S. Marnette and L. Rosier (eds), 328–334. Paris: L’Harmattan. Verschoor, Jan Adriaan 1959 Etudes de grammaire historique et de style sur le style direct et les styles indirects en français. Groningen: V.R.B. Vincent, Diane 1989 “Les particules d’attaque d’énoncés de conversations rapportées en discours direct”. In Sprechen mit Partikeln. H. Weydt (ed), 592–600. Berlin: Mouton de Gruyter. — — — 2002 “Les échanges rapportés et l’atomisation fonctionnelle des actions narratives”. Faits de langue 19: 191–200. — — — 2004 “Discours rapporté, représentations sociales et présentation de soi”. In Le Discours rapporté dans tous ses états, J. M. López-Muñoz, S. Marnette and L. Rosier (eds), 235–244. Paris: L’Harmattan. Vincent, Diane and Dubois, Sylvie 1995 “Les échanges rapportés : une mise en scène de l’interaction”. In Modèles de l’interaction verbale, 319–330. Aix-en-Provence: Publications de l’Université de Provence. — — — 1996 “A Study on the use of reported speech in spoken language”. In Sociolinguistic variation. Data, Theory and Analysis, J. Arnold et al. (eds), 361–74. Stanford: CLSI Publications. — — — 1997 Le discours rapporté au quotidien. Québec: Nuit Blanche. Vuillaume, Marcel 2000 “La signalisation du style indirect libre”. In Le style indirect libre et ses contextes, Sylvie Mellet and Marcel Vuillaume (eds), 107–130. Amsterdam-Atlanta: Rodopi. Wagner, Robert Léon 1974 L’Ancien français. Paris: Larousse. Wald, Benji 1987 “Spanish-English grammatical contact in Los Angeles: the grammar of reported speech in the East Los Angeles English contact vernacular”. Linguistics 25: 53– 80.

References 

Warning, Rainer and Morton, Michael 1982 “Irony and the ‘Order of Discourse’ in Flaubert”. New Literary History: A Journal of Theory and Interpretation 13 (2): 253–286. Wartburg, Walter von 1962 Evolution et structure de la langue française. Bern: A. Francke [6th edition]. Waugh, Linda 1995 “Reported Speech in Journalistic Discourse: The Relation of Function and Text”. Text 15 (1): 129–173. Weinberg, Henry H. 1977–78 “The ‘Style Direct Libre’; a Variant of the ‘Style Indirect Libre’ in Madame Bovary”. Revue du Pacifique 3 (4): 23–9. — — — 1981 “Irony and ‘Style indirect libre’ in Madame Bovary”. Canadian Review of Comparative Literature/Revue Canadienne de Littérature Comparée 8 (1): 1–9. Weinrich, Harald 1989 Grammaire textuelle du français. Paris: Didier. Weissman, Frida S. 1978 Du monologue intérieur à la sous-conversation. Paris: Nizet. Weizman, E. 1984 “Some Register Characteristics of Journalistic Language: Are They Universals?”. Applied Linguistics 5 (1): 39–50. Wilmet, Marc 1997 Grammaire critique du français. Paris-Louvain-La-Neuve: HachetteDuculot. Wynne, Martin, Short, Michael & Semino, Elena 1998 “A corpus-based investigation of speech. thought and writing presentation in English narrative texts”. In Explorations in Corpus Linguistics, Antoinette Renouf (ed), 231–245. Amsterdam: Rodopi. Yaguello, Marina 1998 “Genre, une particule d’un genre nouveau”. In Petits faits de langue, M. Yaguello, 18–24. Paris: Seuil. Zelizer, Barbie 1989 “‘Saying’ as Collective Practice : Quoting and Differential Address in the News”. Text 9 (4): 369–388. Zink, Michel 1979 Roman rose et rose rouge : le Roman de la rose ou de Guillaume de Dole, de Jean Renart. Paris: Nizet. — — — 1985 La Subjectivité littéraire autour du siècle de Saint Louis. Paris: Presses Universitaires de France. — — — 1990 Littérature française : le moyen âge. Nancy: Presses Universitaires de Nancy. — — — 1995 Medieval French Literature: an Introduction. Binghamton, N.Y.: Pegasus paperbooks. Zumthor, Paul 1975 Langue, texte, énigme. Paris: Seuil.

Appendix 1

Corpus of contemporary spoken French1

ANGUENOT – Tape 94 Anguenot, Sabine, 1991, 15 min., 20 p., 3300 words. Friends speaking about their holidays. ASIPAG – Tape 87. Deasis Florence and Page Valérie, 1990, 55 min., 11000 words. A beekeeper describes his occupation. BALBOA* – Tape 101 Balboa Rosa, Figueroa Ma. Cristina, San Roman Marta, 1991. 32 p., 30 min., 5100 words. Young man reminisces about his experience as an exchange student in Spain. BARRA – Tape 97 Barra Isabelle, 1991, 13 min., 18 p., 2700 words. Mature student speaks about his experience at a nursing school. BARALLIER – Tape 28 Barallier Claudette, 1984, 90 min., 124 p., 18000 words. Conversation between seven middleaged women reminiscing about their childhood and their youth. BATTESTI – Tape 112 Battesti Marie, 1992, 10 min., 13 p., 1300 words. Old woman reminisces about her life during World War Two. BOAVIDA* – Tape 120 Boavida Filomena, 1990, 54 min., 88 p. 10800 words. Young woman speaks about her youth as an immigrant Portuguese in France. BRUNET* Brunet Pierre; 1977 to 1984. Corpus «Puget-Ville» 11000 words. BRUNET-A; 1977, 42 min., 81 p. Conversation between three ten year-old (outside of school). BRUNET-B; 1978–1980, 43 p. Ten narratives by ten year-old pupils at school. BRUNET-C; 1978, 14 min., 28 p. three ten year-old children speak about their school trip to an olive oil factory. CAPPEAU* – Tape 32 Cappeau Paul, 1985, 40 min., 108 p., 8000 words. Conversation between a customer and her builder.

 Appendix 1

CHERVET* – Tape 92 Chervet Laurent, 1990, 60 min., 78 p., 12 000 words. Interview with a lawyer. FRANKE* – Tape 43 Franke Dorothea, 1985, 80 min., 117 p., 16000 words. Four twenty-minutes recordings of conversations between a doctor and alcoholic patients about to go for detoxification. GARCIN* – Tape 124 Garcin Frédérique, 1995. 2 corpora: – corpus 1: 45 min., 9000 words, radiophonic show on AIDS. – corpus 2: 15 min., 3000 words, interview with radio talkshow host. GAUTIER* – Tape 45 Gautier Michèle, 1986. 5 corpora: GAUTIER-A, 45 min., 95 p., 9000 words. Conversation about everyday life between 7 women in Mulhouse. GAUTIER-B, 6 min., 5 p., 1200 words. Meeting of a town hall committee. GAUTIER-C, 10 min., 27 p., 2000 words. Conversation between two Strasbourg women. GAUTIER-D, 8 min., 10 p., 1600 words. Excerpt from daily news on regional Alsatian television. GAUTIER-E, 15 min., 25 p. 3000 words. Portuguese graduate student questions two Strabourg women about their work and their opinions. GHIOLDI* – Tape 108 Ghioldi Cécile, 1991, 13 200 words. Conversation between a pharmacist and her friend. GIOVANNONI* – Tape 66 Giovannoni Dominique, 1988, 60 min., 60 p. 12 000 words. Woman explains how she founded an association for the parents of prisoners at the Baumette prison in Marseilles and speaks about uprisings in that jail, where her son is an inmate LEFEBVRE* – Tape 77 Lefebvre Robert, 1988, 45 min., 55 p., 9000 words. Radioshow with singer Leo Ferré as guest. MOUSSET* – Tape 2 Mousset Marie-France, 1976, 60 min., 88 p., 12000 words. Casual conversation between friends (three women and a man). NEVCHEHIRLIAN* – Tape 50 Nevchehirlian Elisabeth, 1987, 60 min., 88 p., 12000 words. Conversation about unions’ politics at a shipbuilding factory between three male workers and a female student recording the tape.

Corpus of contemporary spoken French

RUFFINI – Tape 96 Ruffini Sylvie, 1991, 9 min. 15, 12 p., 1800 words. Young woman reminiscing about her training at the teachers college. SAVELLI* – Tape 36 Savelli Marie-Josée, 1984, 30 min., 61 p., 6000 words. A middle-aged man speaks about his Corsican origins and the family traditions in Corsica. SELIN* – Tape 116 Selin Rachel, 1992, 9 min., 14 p., 2250 words. A young woman describes how she was nearly run over by a car. TRICON* – Tape 25 Tricon Mireille, 1983, 72 min., 153 p., 14 400 words. Literary TV-show hosted by Bernard Pivot, with guests: Mayer Barouh, Andrée Tetry, Pierre Daninos, Jeanne Castille, Emile Langlois, Dorothée Letessier, Claude-Jean Philipe. TSCHARNER* – Tape 37 Tscharner Barbara, 1986, 61 min., 94 p., 12200 words. Mock trial at a law school (1976 Aixen-Provence). Two speakers present the closing statements for the prosecution and one for the defence. VILAGINES – Tape 127 Vilagines Serra Eulalia, 1995, 84 min., 119 p., 16800 words. Young woman recalls her volunteer work for various N.G.O.s.

Note . Each reference begins with the name of the person who recorded and transcribed the tape, followed by the number of the tape at the GARS laboratory. The name of the text is followed by an asterisk whenever it was included in the statistics; otherwise it was used only in order to give specific examples.



Appendix 2

Corpus of medieval French literature

1. Chansons de geste La Chanson de Roland. Edited by Gérard Moignet. Paris: Bordas. 1989. Le Voyage de Charlemagne a Jerusalem et a Constantinople. Edited by Paul Aebischer. Geneva: Droz. 1965. La Prise d’Orange. Edited by Claude Régnier. Paris: Klincksieck. 1966. Version AB based on manuscripts A and B and version CE based on manuscripts C and E. Le Chevalier au Cygne. Edited by Jan A. Nelson. Alabama: University of Alabama Press. 1985. Raoul de Cambrai. Edited by Sarah Kay. Oxford: Clarendon Press. 1992. Huon de Bordeau.Edited by Pierre Ruelle. Brussels: Presses Universitaires de Bruxelles. 1960. Excerpt. verses 1–4078 and 8550–10553. Tristan de Nanteuil. Edited by K. V. Sinclair. Assen: Van Gorcum. 1971. Excerpt. verses 1– 2004 and 21316–23361.

2. Verse Romances and Lais Erec and Enide. Chrétien de Troyes. Edited by W. C. Carleton. New York & London: Garland. 1987. Yvain ou Le Chevalier au Lion. Chrétien de Troyes. Edited by William W. Kibler. New York & London: Garland. 1985. Lais de Marie de France. Edited by Karl Warnke. Paris: Le Livre de Poche. “Les Lettres gothiques”. 1990. Eracle. Gautier d’Arras. Edited by Guy Raynaud de Lage. Paris: Champion. 1976. Le Roman de Tristan. Béroul. Edited by Alfred Ewert. Oxford: Basil Blackwell. 1939. Ipomedon. Hue de Rothelande. Edited by A. J. Holden. Paris: Klincksieck. 1979. Le Roman de l’Estoire dou Graal. Robert de Boron. Edited by William A. Nitze. Paris: Champion. 1927. Le Lai de l’ombre. Jean Renart. Edited by Félix Lecoy. Paris: Champion. 1979. Le Roman de la Rose ou de Guillaume de Dole. Jean Renart. Edited by Félix Lecoy. Paris: Champion. 1979.

3. Hagiography La Vie de Saint Alexis. Manuscript H. Edited by Charles Storey. Oxford: Basil Blackwell. 1946. La Vie de Saint Alexis. Manuscripts M2 and S Edited by Alison G. Elliott. Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press. 1983.

 Appendix 2

4. Prose Romances Le Roman du Graal. Robert de Boron. Edited by Cerquiglini. Paris: 10/18. 1981. Lancelot du Lac. anonymous. non cyclical version. edited by Kennedy. Oxford: Clarendon. 1980. excerpt p. 154–257. La Mort le roi Artu. anonymous. edited by Frappier. Geneva: Droz. 1964. Le Roman de Tristan. anonyme (Luce del Gat). Edited by Ménard. Geneva: Droz. excerpt 1987. p. 247–277 and 1990. p. 65–190. Le Roman de Perceforest. anonymous. fourth part. Edited by Gilles Roussineau. Geneva: Droz. 1987. excerpt p. 1–200. Le Roman de Jehan de Saintré. Antoine de la Sale. Edited by Jean Misrhai & Charles A. Knudson. Geneva: Droz. 1965. Le Roman de Guillaume. anonymous. Edited by Carl Weber. Halle: Vereinigten FriedrichsUniversität Halle-Wittenberg. 1912 (under the title Die Prosafassungen des “Couronnement de Louis”. des “Charroi de Nîmes” und der “Prise d’Orange”). Le Roman du Comte d’Artois. anonymous. Edited by Charles Seigneuret. Geneva: Droz. 1966. Le Roman de Jehan de Paris. anonymous. Edited by E. Wickersheimer. Paris: Champion. 1923.

5. Chronicles Villehardouin. La Conquête de Constantinople. Edited by R. Faral. Paris: Les Belles lettres. 1961. Volume1. Robert de Clari. La Conquête de Constantinople. Edited by P. Lauer. Paris: Champion. 1924. Jehan. Seigneur de Joinville. La Vie de Saint Louis. Le témoignage de Jehan. Seigneur de Joinville. Edited by N. Corbett. Québec: Naaman. 1977. Froissart. Chroniques. Edited by G. T. Diller. Geneva: Droz. 1991. Volume 1. §§1–100. p. 1–131. [= excerpt 1] Froissart. Chroniques. ‘Le voyage de Bearn’. In A. Pauphilet and E. Pognon. Historiens et Chroniqueurs du moyen âge. Paris: Gallimard. 1952. p. 486–565. [= excerpt 2] Froissart. Chroniques. In A. Pauphilet and E. Pognon. Historiens et Chroniqueurs du moyen âge. Paris: Gallimard. 1952. p. 605–647. [= excerpt 3] Enguerran de Monstrelet. Chronique. Edited by L. Douët-D’Arq. Paris: Société de l’histoire de France. 1857. Book II. chapters 258–278. Gilles Le Bouvier dit Le Héraut Berry. Les Chroniques du roi Charles VII. Edited by H. Courteault and L. Celier. Paris: Klincksieck. 1979. p. 3–4, p. 122–99. Commynes. Mémoires. Edited by J. Calmette. Paris: Belles Lettres. 1964. Volume 1.

6. Other Aucassin et Nicolette. Chantefable du XIIIesiècle. Edited by Mario Roques. Paris: Champion. 1975.

Appendix 3

Corpus of contemporary French literature

1. 19th-century texts Balzac, Honoré. Le Père Goriot. Paris: Garnier. 1981[1843]. Flaubert Gustave, L’éducation sentimentale. Paris: Garnier. 1984 [1869]. Flaubert Gustave, Madame Bovary. Paris: Bordas. 1990 [1856]. Hugo Victor. Quatre-vingt-treize. Paris: Edition Nationale.1892. Maupassant, Guy de. Bel Ami Paris: Garnier. 1988 [1885]. Maupassant, Guy de. “Le Horla”. In Contes choisis. Paris: Librairie illustrée. 1886. Maupassant, Guy de. Le Horla. Paris: Ollendorff. 1887. Stendhal, Le Rouge et le Noir: Chronique du XIXe siècle. Paris : Bordas, 1989 [1830]. Zola, Émile. Nana. Paris: Bordas, 1993 [1881]. Zola, Émile. Pot Bouille. Paris: G. Charpentier. 1883.

2. 20th-c. texts Aragon, Les Cloches de Bâles. Paris: Denoël 1934 [Reprint Folio 2000]. Céline, Louis Ferdinand. Voyage au bout de la nuit Paris: Gallimard. 1932 [Reprint Folio 1996]. Gide, André. Les Faux-monnayeurs. Paris: Gallimard. 1925 [Reprint Folio 2001]. Queneau Raymond, Zazie dans le métro. Paris: Gallimard. 1959 [Reprint Folio 2002]. Sarraute, Nathalie. Le Planétarium. Paris: Gallimard. 1959 [Reprint Folio 2001].

Appendix 4

Corpus of contemporary written French press

1. Women’s Magazine Elle, 8–14 Jul 02, #2949 Marie Claire (Marie Claire Belgique), July 02, #599

2. Gossip Magazines Gala, 11–17 Jul 02, #474 Ici Paris, 9 Jul 02, #2975 Voici, 8–14 Jul 02, #765

3. News Magazines Le Nouvel Observateur, 8–14 Jul 02, #1966 Le Soir Magazine, 13–19 Jul 02, #3655 Marianne, 8–14 Jul 02, #272 Paris Match (called Libre Match in Belgium since 2001), 17 Jul 02, #44

4. Newspapers Le Figaro, 11 Jul 02 Le Monde, 11 Jul 02 Le Soir, 11 Jul 02 Libération, 11 Jul 02

Author index

A Abouda 111, 128 Adam 7–12, 15, 16, 33, 135, 136, 173, 174 Adams 5, 6, 15 Adert 273 Andersen xiii, 172, 176 Anglade 217, 288, 289 Aron 281 Authier-Revuz xii, xiii , 36, 79, 82, 98, 99, 125 B Bakhtin xii, 7, 15, 19, 21, 34, 42, 277, 282 Banfield 16, 21, 59, 274, 276 Barallier 41, 42, 64–66, 68, 133, 154, 172, 349 Bastian 314, 316 Bauche 176 Bauer 216 Baumgartner 221 Baynham xiii Beer 220 Bell 172, 173 Benveniste 7, 15, 19, 33–35, 141, 172 Bertrand 101, 103, 104, 172, 173, 193, 221 Blanche-Benveniste 280 Blith 172 Bonnard 217 Booth 28, 37 Bork 281 Brandsma xiii, 216 Bres 172 Bright 3–5, 14

Brinton 16, 277 Bruña-Cuevas 67, 124, 183, 216, 314 Brunot 314 Buridant 183, 217 C Caldas-Coulthard 16, 314 Cavell 275 Celle xiii, 111, 112, 128, 314 Cerquiglini xi–xiii, 188, 210, 216, 354 Chafe xii, 16, 49, 51, 64, 65, 79, 80, 90, 123, 141, 144, 151, 153, 172, 173 Charaudeau 172, 314, 318 Charolles 113, 116 Chuquet 172 Cintrat 172 Clark 36 Cohn xii, 51, 58, 59, 64, 80, 90, 91, 175, 245, 278 Collins 79, 144, 175, 176, 190, 217, 220, 282, 292, 309, 316, 319 Coltier 111, 113, 118, 127, 128 Compagnon 314 Coulmas 35, 49, 64 Couper-Kuhlen 172 Culioli 111 D Dailey-O’Cain 172, 173 Damourette 127 Danielewicz 173 Darde 314, 318 Dauzat 217

 Author index

de Gaulmyn 43, 88, 123, 124, 133, 314, 319 Delaveau 172 Delomier 172, 173 Demers 172, 173 Dendale xiii, 111, 113, 118, 127, 128 Diller 202, 354 Dubois 40, 43–47, 50, 54, 64, 66, 67, 79, 80, 143, 144, 155, 157, 158, 162, 172–174, 176, 177 Duchet 275 Ducrot xii, 1, 7, 8, 12, 14–16, 20–28, 31–35, 69–71, 75, 82, 83, 127, 129, 174, 321 Duggan xiii, 221 Dujardin 245, 279, 280 E Ehrlich 16 Einhorn 217 Espesser 172, 173 Eurenius xiii, 314 F Fairclough 15, 80, 287, 309, 314 Fambrough 275 Ferrara 172, 173 Fløttum xiii, 275, 314 Flavin 275, 276 Fleischman xi, xii, 3, 5, 6, 15, 16, 30, 37, 42, 80, 81, 142, 143, 172, 175, 180, 220, 221, 279, 280, 282, 326 Fludernik xii, xiii, 16, 35, 37, 39, 40, 59, 79, 80, 90, 123, 148, 175, 274, 275, 326 Fónagy 49, 64 Foucault 16 Foulet 217 Fowler 15, 316 Franckel 80 Frei 176 G Gadet

176

Gaitet 280, 281 Gardin 275 Garnier 314, 355 GARS xiii, 134, 271 Genette xii, 4–6, 14, 24, 28, 29, 32, 35, 37, 40, 80, 81, 85, 123, 223, 263, 276, 278, 279, 318 Gerrig 36 Gibson 28 Ginsburg 275 Gosselin 128 Grobet 172, 173 Gruber 16, 318 Guentchéva 127 Guiraud 276 H Haillet 127 Halliday 8, 9, 287, 316, 320 Hammer 314, 316 Hanote 172 Harris 217 Hasan 8, 9 Hasenohr 217 Hickmann 172 Holm 275 J Jünke 275 Jacob 172, 173 Jahn 16, 276 Jakobson 19, 34 Jaubert xiv, 80 Jauss xi, xii, 179, 189 Jeandillou 281 Johnston 221 Johnstone 172 Jucker 172 K Kay xiii, 210, 221, 353 Kelly 172, 214, 223 Kerbrat-Orecchioni xiv, 34 Kibler 217, 353

Author index 

Klewitz 172, 173 Komur 314, 315 Korzen 127 Kronning xiv, 127–129 Kukenheim 217 Kullmann 275 L Léon 172, 276 Labov 10, 11, 16, 135, 136, 138, 172–174, 316 Lacy 183 Lakoff 175 Laroche–Bouvy 314, 315 Larochette 80 Lebaud 80 Le Bidois 217 Lebre 172 Leech xii, 7, 16, 26–28, 30, 33, 35–37, 46, 49, 60, 62, 64, 67, 79–83, 87–89, 94, 95, 100, 123, 124, 175, 176, 212, 227, 275, 277, 279, 314, 315, 321 Lefeuvre 129 Legge 221 Levine xiv, 220, 221 Li 49, 64, 190, 195, 209 Linde 172, 173 Lodge xiii, 221 Longacre 12 Loufrani 172 Luzzati 280, 281 M Mènard 217, 354 Magaud 172 Magro 172 Mailleux 172 Maingueneau xii, xiv, 8, 15, 16, 20, 23, 27–33, 35, 37, 40, 49, 64, 100, 124, 126, 129, 268, 275–280, 282, 314, 315, 320 Marchello-Nizia xiii, 217, 218

Marnette xiv, 35, 36, 38, 80, 124, 172, 174, 176, 186, 188, 192, 210, 216, 219–223, 278, 314, 326 Martin 127, 217 Mayes 172 McEnery 314, 315 McHale 16, 87, 88, 123 Meiller 40, 183 Meteva xiv, 314 Michelson 281 Mochet 42, 64, 67, 80, 89, 90, 97, 100, 101, 123, 127, 172 Moignet 217, 353 Moirand xiv, 314, 315 Monville-Burston 314 Morel 172, 173 Morton 275 Mouillaud 314, 318–320 Mussio 275 Myers 172 N Nølke xiv, 127, 275 Norén xiv, 172, 275 Nowakowska 172 Nyrop 217 O Ochs 173 Olsen 275, 282 P Palmer 221 Parkes 218 Pascal 35, 80, 274, 276–278 Passias 279 Perret xiii, 49, 123, 188 Perrin xiv, 36, 47, 48, 64, 70, 72–76, 80, 83, 136–138, 172–174, 176 Perruchot 275, 276 Petitjean 314 Peytard 48, 64, 80, 172 Philippe 280 Pichon 127

 Author index

Picoche 217 Price 217 Prince 219, 221, 275 Proust 238, 275, 279 Psaki 222 R Régnier 217, 353 Rabatel xiv, 13, 58, 61, 80, 123, 277, 278, 280, 282 Ramazani 275 Reboul-Touré 314 Recanati 82 Redeker 16, 314 Rey-Debove 172 Riegel 127 Rimmon-Kenan 32, 33, 81, 223, 276 Rosier xii–xiv, 25, 34–36, 39, 40, 49, 64, 67, 77, 79, 80, 83, 89, 90, 95, 97–100, 116, 120, 121, 123, 124, 126, 128, 129, 172, 175, 176, 216, 218, 274, 275, 279–282, 303, 314, 315, 317, 318, 320 Roulet xiv, 7, 8, 13, 34, 48, 80, 272, 273, 282 Rychner 80, 187, 216 S Sørensen 275 Sanders xiv, 16, 314 Sarraute 226, 266–269, 271, 273, 274, 282, 324, 355 Saussure 7, 20 Semino 16, 35, 36, 42, 46, 81, 88, 91, 94, 123, 124, 176, 279, 314, 315, 318 Short xii, xiv, 7, 16, 26–28, 30, 33, 35–37, 46, 49, 59, 60, 62, 64, 79–83, 87–89, 94, 95, 100, 123, 124, 175–177, 212, 227, 275, 277, 279, 314, 315, 321 Simonin 314 Sitri 314 Slembrouck 16, 326 Smith xiii, 172

Smock 281 Sneyders de Vogel 217 Soutet 217 Sperber 22 Spitzer 183 Sternberg 40, 80 Stoltz xiv, 279, 281 Strauch 49, 274, 276 Sullet-Nylander 123, 124, 314, 315, 318 Swigger 281 T Tétu 314, 318–320 Tamir 37 Tannen xii, 40, 42, 144, 172, 173, 292, 316 Tasmowski 128 Teilmann 275 Thibaudet 275 Thompson 16, 70, 87, 89, 130 Togeby 128, 217 Torck xiv, 124, 126, 172, 314, 315, 318 Tuomarla xiv, 36, 81, 82, 98, 124–126, 287, 309, 314, 315, 318–320 V Vallée 172 Verschoor 64 Vet 216 Vincent xii, xiv, 40, 43–47, 50, 54, 64, 66, 67, 72–74, 79, 80, 83, 133, 136–138, 143, 144, 155, 157, 158, 162, 172–174, 176, 177, 247 von Wartburg 217 Vuillaume 80, 275 W Wagner 217 Wald 172 Warning 275 Waugh xiv, 89, 123, 124, 314

Author index 

Weinberg 275 Weinrich 80 Weissman 280, 282 Weizman 314, 318 Wilmet xiv, 128, 217 Wilson 22 Wynne 16, 35, 36, 123, 124, 279, 314, 315

Y Yaguello 42, 80, 142, 143, 172, 175, 326 Yoo 83 Z Zelizer 314 Zink 202, 213, 222, 223 Zumthor 220

Subject index

A absence of que 156, 157, 217 abstract 7, 16, 19, 20, 99, 135, 173 academic discourse 62, 79, 160 according to X see selon X and d’après X actualisation 44–46, 78, 79, 174 adieu 71 affectivity sphere 286 alethic 111–113 alternation see also mixing tenses 251, 279, 281 reported discourse 260 discourse – event 300 ambiguity 75, 93, 94, 104, 110, 136, 142, 196, 212, 214, 218, 240, 254, 260, 263, 281, 321, 324 see also confusion ambiguous discourses 50, 62–63 Anglo-Saxon narratologists 28, 30, 37 Anguenot 142, 349 anteriority 35, 39, 42, 79 Antoine de la Sale 354 apparently (il paraît) 55, 112, 113, 119, 120, 128, 159, 168, 176 appreciative function 136, 137 Aragon 219, 226, 243, 256–259, 261–263, 273, 281, 324, 355 argumentative 1, 2, 45–48, 62, 72–76, 136–138, 144, 151, 160, 165–172, 285, 304, 308, 309, 312–314, 316 argumentative function 67, 122

argumentative sequences 10–13, 26, 36, 46, 47, 73, 74, 78, 110, 136, 148, 154, 155, 157, 158, 162, 165, 167–171, 174, 286, 299, 300, 303, 312, 313, 322, 324 see also pseudo-narrative artificiality 252, 270, 275, 280 artificially (conversing with stars) 289 Artois 203, 204, 207, 208, 210, 222, 223, 354 Asipag 42, 349 aspect 52, 80–81 assertion 43–46, 66–68, 72, 78, 79, 126, 158, 174, 321 atemporal present see tense attitude 20, 31, 32, 50–58, 61, 69, 71, 72, 78, 80, 85, 87, 90–93, 95, 100, 104, 105, 109, 110, 114, 121, 123, 124, 134, 137, 141–144, 148, 150–154, 160, 162, 164, 166, 168, 174, 176, 208, 229, 241, 244, 247, 321–323, 325, 326 attitudinal 58, 65, 69, 70, 72, 91, 92, 143, 144 attitudinal clauses 73, 75 Aucassin et Nicolette 354 audience 6, 171, 186, 189, 190, 194, 196–198, 205, 292 see also listener authentication (use of DD for) 298, 312–314 authenticity 40, 100, 196, 198, 208, 214, 303, 306, 307, 314, 319, 323 see also verisimilitude

 Subject index

author 6, 15, 28, 30, 31, 33, 36, 37, 198, 200, 205, 213, 222, 240, 241, 267, 273, 274, 275, 324 authorial “nous” 284 authorial viewpoint 144, 282 implied author 15, 30, 31, 33, 37 authoritative 13, 48, 73–75, 83, 138, 160, 289, 324 authoritative clauses 74, 75 authority function 136, 137 auto-allusive authoritative 73–75 autonymic 36, 126, 315 autonymic modalisation 98, 99, 125 B backgrounding 139, 190, 196, 205, 227 Balboa 57, 85, 104, 141, 145, 146, 162–164, 166, 172, 173, 349 Balzac 225, 230, 231, 235, 236, 246, 324, 355 Barallier 41, 42, 64–66, 68, 133, 154, 172, 349 Barra 41, 349 Battesti 349 Bearn (Voyage de Bearn) 201, 354 Beckett 266 Bel Ami 225, 229, 276, 277, 355 Béroul 186, 187, 208, 222, 353 Berry (Gilles Le Bouvier dit Le Héraut Berry) 184, 186, 216, 221, 354 Boavida 151, 349 Boron 207, 222, 353, 354 Brunet 140, 173, 349 Butor 266, 282 C Cappeau 86, 103, 153, 154, 156, 173, 349 celebrities (reporting the discourses of) 286, 288, 295, 296, 312, 316, 317

Céline 146, 226, 242, 251–254, 256, 264, 273, 280, 281, 322–324, 355 change of topic 287 chanson de geste 179, 185, 187–192, 196–198, 205, 207, 208, 211, 218–222, 226, 322–324, 326, 353 see also epic character character-focaliser 272 character/enunciator 27 Charlemagne (Voyage de or Pélerinage de) 184, 185, 190, 193–195, 203, 217–220, 353 chat 15, 173 Chervet 57, 101–103, 173, 175, 177, 350 Chrétien de Troyes 207, 208, 213, 222, 280, 353 chronicle 2, 16, 179, 183, 186, 188, 189, 197, 198, 200–204, 207, 208, 213, 216, 220–223, 284, 322–326, 354 chronicler 197, 200, 202, 324 Chroniques 221, 223, 354 Ci-Dit xiii Clari (Robert de) 186, 198–200, 221, 354 coda 16, 135, 173 coherence 74, 137, 283 cohesion 9 collage 263, 281 see also cut-and-paste, patchwork colloquial 217, 251, 252, 264, 273, 323 colloquialism 24, 251, 264, 274 comme quoi 120, 129 communication 6, 7, 15, 16, 34, 43, 44, 90, 281 communicative context 5, 6, 26, 44 Commynes 180, 184, 186, 187, 199–201, 221, 354 completive 24, 56, 61, 67, 69, 72, 74, 82, 85, 89, 91, 96, 97, 109, 123, 129, 154, 175, 176, 187, 217, 313

Subject index 

complicating action 16, 135, 173, 174 condensation (in narrated discourse) 89, 91, 109 conditional (conditionnel) 73, 110–113, 118, 120–122, 127–130, 176, 177, 185, 294, 296, 298, 305, 319, 321 ‘conditionalist’ poetics 5 confusion 32, 95, 109 see also ambiguity Constantinople 186, 199, 221, 222, 353, 354 contamination 233, 277 continuum 1, 26–28, 37, 43–45, 50, 51, 53, 55, 73, 75, 77, 78, 82, 83, 87, 89, 109, 110, 114, 148, 152, 153, 158, 182, 188, 218, 223, 227, 241, 243, 255, 262, 263, 273, 279, 281, 321 control 2, 26–28, 176, 179, 184, 185, 188, 189, 212, 227, 228, 275, 321 conversation 4, 9, 10, 13, 40–42, 45–48, 62, 66, 68, 76, 86, 87, 93, 95, 103, 105, 108, 111, 116, 127, 138, 146, 151, 153–155, 157, 158, 165, 167–169, 173, 177, 256, 262, 267, 270, 273, 291, 294, 320, 322, 349, 350 conversational 10, 13, 135, 136 corpus 2, 9, 11, 16, 134, 136, 173, 179, 216, 225, 284, 285, 349, 350, 353, 355, 357 cut-and-paste 303, 309 see also collage, patchwork Cygne (Le Chevalier au) 180, 181, 185–187, 196–198, 218–222, 353 D d’après X 25, 47, 113, 114, 116–118, 120–122, 293, 294, 296, 298 de dicto 24, 35 de re 24 deferred 5, 192, 196, 200

deictics 23, 24, 28, 34, 97, 98, 124, 143, 144, 156, 174, 176, 182, 184, 185, 187, 200, 282, 287, 303, 313 descriptive 10, 12, 71, 73–75, 135 descriptive clauses 73, 75 detachment 137, 314, 320 dialogue 13, 15, 41, 45, 74, 101, 134, 136–138, 163–165, 170, 180, 194, 195, 204, 211, 223, 247, 248, 260, 262, 265, 273, 276, 278, 279, 281, 292, 295, 309, 312, 319, 320, 323 dialogal 10 diaphonic 48, 76, 154, 170, 171, 325 diaphonic repeat 47 dicendi 23, 24, 35, 43, 49, 50, 64–67, 69, 73, 76, 81, 89, 93, 94, 100–103, 110, 117, 122, 125–127, 129, 142, 144, 147, 154, 155, 157, 158, 160, 162, 165, 174, 175, 180, 181, 186–188, 191, 192, 210–212, 218, 219, 241, 242, 247, 248, 251, 252, 256, 264, 265, 273, 279, 284, 286, 293, 317, 318, 320, 323 diegetic summary 87 direct discourse 13, 14, 16, 23–28, 32, 35, 36, 39, 40, 42, 43, 46, 50, 53, 79, 81, 82, 87, 89, 95–102, 104, 110, 116, 117, 122, 124–126, 129, 134, 136, 137, 140–145, 148, 152, 154, 156–158, 160, 162–166, 168–170, 172, 174–177, 179, 180, 182–191, 196–199, 201, 202, 204, 208–214, 216–219, 222, 223, 225–227, 239, 241–244, 247, 248, 251, 254–255, 260–262, 265–269, 272–275, 277–279, 281–284, 286–293, 295, 298, 301, 303–320, 322–326 direct discourse with que 46, 96, 98, 100, 123–126, 129, 156, 176, 177, 179, 182–188, 190, 196, 217, 283, 302, 303,

 Subject index

313–314, 318, 320 see also summaries with quotation direct speech 14, 79, 95, 100, 101–103, 110, 141, 144, 154, 155, 163–164, 169, 174, 177, 217, 220, 228, 245, 262, 267, 292, 295, 317, 322, 323 direct thought 14, 80, 141, 142, 148, 153, 160, 163, 164, 175, 212, 223, 229, 230, 238, 245, 248, 275 discours 6–8, 11, 16, 20, 49, 64, 65, 77 discours surmarqué 100 discours narrativisé 85 see also narrated discourse discours rapporté 13, 14, 39, 49, 275 discours représenté 13, 80 discourse 6–9, 11–16, 20, 46, 49, 64, 65, 77, 100, 111 constructed discourse 40, 43 discourse analysis xii, 33, 134, 325 discourse pragmatics 19, 196 discursive markers 96, 97 dislocations 309 distantiation 90, 120, 129, 313, 314 dramatization 201, 303 see also theatricalisation Dujardin 245 E editor 101, 103, 218, 219 editorial 284, 285, 291, 307, 309, 312, 314, 325 elaboration of forms 215 elaboration of functions 189, 216 Elle 143, 254, 284, 285, 290–295, 297, 298, 309, 312, 315–317, 357 ellipsis 9, 105, 262 embedding 175, 191, 196, 217, 241, 266, 302 Enguerran de Monstrelet see Monstrelet

énoncé 19, 34 énonciation 1, 2, 8, 14–16, 19, 34, 77, 315 entertainment 1, 9, 286–288, 296, 298, 312 enunciation 23, 24, 30, 42–44, 46, 48, 69–72, 75, 77, 82, 90, 98, 110, 120, 122, 172, 183, 225, 315 enunciation theory 14, 19–21, 27, 28, 33, 34, 321, 325 enunciative 20, 24, 34, 36, 65, 75, 77, 85, 90, 91, 94, 98, 129, 133, 135, 281, 312, 318 enunciative context 133 enunciator 19, 21, 22–28, 30–33, 35, 66, 70, 74, 76, 111, 118, 120, 125, 129, 147, 158, 228, 239, 240 enunciator/focaliser 324 epic 14, 189, 217, 220 see also chanson de geste epistemic 76, 111, 128, 129 see also evidential epistolary novel 36 Eracle (Le Roman d’) 185, 209, 215, 221, 223, 353 Erec 182, 185, 208, 209, 213, 217, 218, 222, 223, 353 Erec and Enide see Erec ‘essentialist’ poetics 5 Estoire dou Graal (Le Roman de l’) 106, 183, 207, 210, 222, 353 evaluation 11, 16, 135, 173, 303, 314 evaluative adjectives 20, 33, 276 evidential 76, 82, 111, 113, 128, 158 evidentiality 76 experiencing-self 26, 163, 164, 238, 252, 254, 273, 278, 279, 324 explicative 12, 13, 140, 285, 314 explicative/expositive 10 expositive 10 external focalisation see focalisation

Subject index 

external speech 50, 51, 54, 55, 57, 61, 78, 114, 121, 141, 142, 144, 208, 209, 273, 321 external stimuli 53, 63 F fairytale 6, 11 faithfulness 2, 26, 46, 62, 100, 160, 177, 284, 311 familiarity 310 fiction 2–6, 14, 15, 26, 28, 30, 33, 37, 46, 50, 54, 78, 90, 117, 176, 216, 220, 236, 275, 284, 318, 323 first-person 30–31, 37, 48, 53, 58, 64, 66–67, 70, 71, 75, 76, 79, 82, 115, 116, 135, 137, 142, 148, 153–155, 157–158, 162–164, 166–172, 177, 191, 192, 198, 219, 221–222, 235, 240–242, 255, 268, 276, 280, 284–285, 291–292, 294–295, 311, 314–317 first-person narration 30, 242, 245, 324 first-person narrative 30, 108, 162, 166, 226, 238, 240–241 first-person narrator 205, 207, 213, 238, 242, 251, 278 see also je-narrator Flaubert 108, 150, 225, 227–230, 233–236, 240, 246, 275–279, 323, 355 focalisation 32, 33, 37–38, 54, 81, 165, 223, 229, 230, 232, 248, 249, 254, 262, 272, 273, 276, 282, 324 external focalisation 38, 54, 81, 165, 223, 229, 232, 276 internal focalisation 33, 38, 54, 81, 165, 223, 229, 232, 248, 254, 262, 273, 276, 324 focalisation from within 54, 58, 229, 276 focalisation from without 58, 276

focaliser 32, 33, 164–165, 223, 229. 232, 233, 237–238, 240, 248, 261, 276, 324 focalization see focalisation focalizer see focaliser foregrounding 190, 196, 198, 205, 227, 287, 312, 313, 316 formal 8, 14, 15, 43, 110, 111, 122, 123, 126, 128, 136, 162, 171, 177, 188, 264, 265, 304, 309 Franke 63, 93, 102, 156, 173, 350 free clauses 10, 135, 173 free direct discourse 23, 26, 27, 35, 87, 100, 101, 122, 141, 175, 180, 188, 210–211, 213, 214, 225, 226, 241–244, 247–248, 254–255, 260–262, 265, 267–269, 272–273, 275, 279, 281, 292, 295, 309, 317, 323, 324, 326 free direct speech 100–102, 245, 292 free direct thought 80, 175, 229–230, 238, 245 free indirect discourse 14, 16, 23, 24, 27, 28, 35, 38, 46, 49, 63, 79, 80, 87, 104–106, 108, 110, 112, 117, 122, 123, 127, 128, 134, 135, 140, 145, 148–151, 154–155, 158, 160–164, 166, 175–177, 179, 1181, 183–191, 193–197, 208, 210, 212, 213, 217, 219, 220, 223, 225–228, 236–243, 245, 247–249, 254–255, 261–262, 265, 269–279, 281–282, 284, 286, 288, 294, 305, 315, 316, 323–324 free indirect speech 38, 49, 80, 147, 148, 150, 175, 225, 227, 228, 230, 232, 233, 262, 275–278, 290 free indirect thought 33, 49, 80, 93, 147, 148, 150, 163–165, 175, 212–213, 222, 223, 225,

 Subject index

227, 229, 230, 232, 236, 240, 262, 275–277, 279, 282 from within (focalisation) see focalisation from without (focalisation) see focalisation future see tense G Gala 284–286, 288–290, 292, 296, 298, 309, 312, 316, 317, 357 Garcin 350 Gautier 94, 140, 156, 168, 177, 350 Gautier d’Arras 221, 353 Gautier Map 203 generic present see tense genre xi, 1, 7–9, 11, 13–15, 46, 50, 53, 133, 135, 111, 142–144, 162, 175, 196, 197, 202, 205, 207, 208, 213, 220, 227, 245, 283, 285, 321, 322, 325, 326 see also speech genre “genre” (like) 25, 42, 149 see also “style” Ghioldi 95, 105, 108, 143, 165, 166, 350 Gide 226, 241, 245–249, 251, 273, 280, 324, 355 Gilles Le Bouvier dit Le Héraut Berry see Berry Giovannoni 58, 60, 63, 68, 103, 143, 151, 153, 158, 166, 167, 173, 350 gossip 11, 167, 168, 173, 260, 291, 297–298, 317–318, 322, 323, 357 gossip magazines 117, 284, 286, 288, 294–296, 298, 309, 312, 316 Grail 106, 197, 202, 203, 207, 213, 221, 222 Grice’s maxim of quantity 118 guarantor 27, 28, 204 Guillaume (Le Roman de) 184, 192, 193, 201, 203, 204, 207, 211, 219, 220, 222, 223, 353, 354 Guillaume de Dole (Le Roman de la rose ou de) 222, 353

Guerre des boutons (La) 53, 144 H handbooks for journalists 318 ‘hard news’ magazines 296, 298, 300, 303 headlines 303, 311, 315, 318, 319 hearer-based strategy 144, 189, 282, 309 hearsay 210, 257, 281, 289 hetero-allusive authoritative 74 heterogeneity 36, 64, 65, 77, 82 see also multiplicity of voices, polyphony Histoire du Saint Graal 203 historical 6, 14, 19, 20, 179, 197, 198, 200, 202–204, 207, 213, 220, 221, 223, 274, 318, 326 historical present see tense historicise 299 historiography 4, 197, 202 history 4, 15, 33, 37, 39, 179, 189, 197, 200, 216, 218, 226, 257, 279, 292, 311, 322, 325 Hue de Rothelande 222, 353 Hugo 190, 225, 230, 231, 235, 324, 355 humorous 265, 295, 310 Huon de Bordeau 184, 187, 192, 194, 195, 197, 218–220, 353 I Ici Paris 112, 124, 284–286, 288–290, 294, 298, 316–318, 357 iconicity 311 ideational function 287 ideology 15, 207, 213, 287, 291, 316, 320, 323 ideological 7, 8, 16, 225, 274, 304, 316 ideological sphere 286 illocutionary forms 67 imperative 192 imperfect (imparfait) see tense

Subject index 

impersonal 30, 31, 142, 171, 188, 202, 203, 227, 235, 236, 240, 246, 260, 278, 284, 324 impersonal instance 81, 207 see also “le conte” implied author see author implied reader

see reader

indirect discourse 14, 16, 23–25, 27, 28, 35–36, 38, 43, 45, 46, 49, 53, 60, 61, 63, 64, 79–82, 85, 87–92, 95–98, 100, 102, 104–106, 108–110, 112, 117, 118, 121–129, 134, 135, 137, 140, 143–145, 148–152, 154–158, 160, 162–164, 166–168, 170, 172–177, 179–191, 193–201, 204, 207–208, 210–213, 216–223, 225–228, 236–243, 245, 247–249, 254–255, 260–262, 265, 269, 270, 272–279, 281–284, 286–290, 292, 294, 298, 301, 303, 312–316, 318–325 indirect discourse with quotation marks 124, 125, 129, 313–314, 319 indirect discourse without que 46, 156, 174–176, 179, 186–188, 192, 196, 211–212, 217, 218, 220 see also absence of que indirect speech 14, 15, 38, 43, 49, 79, 80, 83, 89, 147, 148, 150, 154, 155, 163, 167, 171, 175, 217, 220, 225, 227, 228, 230, 232, 233, 262, 275–278, 290 indirect thought 14, 33, 49, 80–81, 90–93, 147–148, 150, 153–155, 163–165, 169, 171, 175, 212, 213, 222, 223, 225, 227, 229, 232, 236, 240, 262, 275–277, 279, 322

infinitival clause 24, 52, 61, 85, 91, 123, 175, 180 informal 15, 62, 158, 160, 162, 169, 177, 186, 309 injunctive 10 injunctive sequences 140 inquit formula 103, 126, 127, 180, 182, 183, 185, 188, 216, 251, 264 instructional/injunctive 10 intellectual sphere 286 interaction 7–9, 13, 15, 16, 20, 48, 162, 175, 270 interior monologue 225, 244, 245, 268, 273, 279, 318 internal focalisation see focalisation internal internal speech 50, 92, 114, 208, 209 internal state of mind 53, 58, 63 interpersonal function 287 interviews 134, 135, 284, 285, 291–293, 295, 304, 305, 311, 312, 314–316 invention 44–46, 79, 231 involvement 2, 141, 144, 175, 283, 284, 286, 288, 291–292, 295, 312, 313, 319, 322 Ipomedon 205, 206, 209, 214, 222, 223, 353 irony 21, 22, 26, 32, 33, 129, 213, 241, 260, 262, 263, 280, 286, 303 italics 23, 35, 59, 95, 97, 127, 145, 194, 241–243, 260, 276, 290, 305, 313, 315 J je-narrator 202–204, 325 see also first-person narrator Jean Renart 222, 353 Jehan de Paris (Le Roman de) 207, 223, 354 John Hartfield 281 Joinville 185, 186, 199, 200, 221, 354 joke 1, 8, 11, 243 jongleur 189–191, 197, 324

 Subject index

Jordan Fantosme 221 journalistic 62, 79, 89, 94, 100, 110, 111, 122, 127, 128, 160, 162, 283, 284, 308, 311, 313, 314, 318 L La Chanson de Roland see Roland La Conquête de Constantinople see Constantinople La Mort le roi Artu see Mort Artu La Prise d’Orange see Orange La Vie de Saint Alexis see Saint Alexis La Vie de Saint Louis see Saint Louis lais 105, 183, 185, 213, 214, 216, 217, 222, 353 Lais de Marie de France 105, 183, 214, 216, 222, 353 Lai de l’Ombre see Ombre Lancelot (Le Roman de) 182, 202, 203, 207, 212, 221, 223, 354 Lancelot Cycle 203 Lancelot-Grail 207, 223 language report 16 langue (versus parole) 7, 15, 19, 20, 99 Le Chevalier au Cygne see Cygne “le conte” 202, 207, 210, 212, 221, 324 Le Figaro 81, 97, 123, 284, 285, 298, 301, 302, 304–306, 308, 310, 315, 317–319, 325, 357 Le Horla 225, 226, 238, 355 Le Lai de l’ombre see Ombre Le Monde 54, 94–96, 99, 123–126, 284–286, 288, 298, 301, 304–306, 308, 310, 315–317, 319, 357 Le Nouvel Observateur 284, 285, 294, 296, 297, 299, 300, 310–312, 315, 317, 318, 320, 322, 357 Le Père Goriot 225, 235, 236, 355 Le Planétarium see Planétarium Le Roman de Guillaume see Guillaume

Le Roman de Jehan de Paris see Jehan de Paris Le Roman de Jehan de Saintré see Saintré Le Roman de l’Estoire dou Graal Estoire dou Graal

see

Le Roman de la Rose ou de Guillaume de Dole see Guillaume de Dole Le Roman de Perceforest see Perceforest Le Roman de Tristan see prose Tristan and verse Tristan Le Roman du Comte d’Artois Artois Le Roman du Graal

see

see prose Graal

Le Rouge et le Noir 115, 226, 235, 237, 238, 278, 355 Le Soir 284, 285, 298, 301, 304–306, 315, 319, 357 Le Soir Magazine 126, 284, 285, 296, 315, 317, 357 Le voyage de Bearn see Bearn Le Voyage de Charlemagne see Charlemagne Lefebvre 66, 86, 102, 109, 152, 173, 177, 350 legal speech

128

legitimizing 292 L’ère du soupcon

274, 282

Les Chroniques du roi Charles VII 221, 354 Les Cloches de Bâles 226, 324, 355 Les Faux-monnayeurs 226, 241, 245, 246, 248, 249, 251, 324, 355 Les Lauriers sont coupés

245

lessening of social distance 144

Subject index 

lexical polysemy 93, 94, 110 Libération 123, 284, 285, 298, 304–312, 315–320, 322, 325, 357 Life of the black prince 221 “like” 25, 42, 142–143, 149, 175 see also “genre” and “style” linearisation 273 listener 189, 197, 218, 292, 323 see also audience listener-reader 189, 190, 196, 198, 200, 205, 213, 214, 222, 325 see also reader literality 307 literariness 4, 5 literature xi, xii, 1–6, 34, 37–39, 87, 89, 94, 95, 100, 104, 111, 126, 144, 145, 148, 172, 175, 176, 179, 180, 183, 213, 223, 225–227, 231, 236, 240, 245, 266, 274, 278, 279, 283, 321, 322, 325, 326, 353, 355 locutor 19–28, 30–36, 64, 66, 67, 69, 71–75, 77, 82, 98, 110, 111, 118, 120, 129, 147, 158, 167, 176, 212, 229, 239, 256, 260, 292, 323–325 locutor qua locutor 69, 71–75, 82, 325 locutor qua person 69, 71–75, 82, 325 locutor-journalist 99 locutor-λ 69–72, 75, 78, 120 locutor-L 69–72, 74, 76–78, 120 locutor/enunciator 24, 25, 74 loss of control 27 M Mémoires de Commynes 180, 221, 354 macroanalysis 135, 141 Madame Bovary 108, 225, 228, 229, 232, 234, 240, 275, 276, 278, 355 magazine 89, 112, 117, 126, 283–296, 288, 289, 291, 294–298, 300, 301, 303, 309, 310, 312, 310, 315–318, 320, 322, 323, 325, 357

Marianne 114, 115, 284, 285, 290, 296, 298, 299, 315–318, 357 Marie Claire 119, 285, 309, 318, 357 Marie de France 105, 183, 214, 216, 217, 222, 353 materiality 125, 294, 303, 314 Maupassant 225–227, 229, 238, 239, 246, 277, 355 medieval genres xi, 179, 189, 204 memorability 138 mental content 52, 56, 61, 78, 91 mention (versus use) 23, 35, 36, 79, 99 messenger 192–194, 196 metadiscursive clause 72–75, 136 metalinguistic 36, 78, 99, 320, 321 metanarrative function 140 microanalysis 135, 162 minimal narrative 10, 135, 173 mise en rapport 49, 76, 321 mixed discourses 124, 126, 128, 188, 197, 216, 283, 284, 295, 298, 302, 303, 305–307, 309, 310, 312–315, 317–320, 322, 325 mixing see also alternation mixing tenses 197, 198, 226, 256, 281 mixing speech and thought 269 modal value 76 modalisation markers 120, 129, 130 modality 70, 76, 128, 129 monitoring of information 102, 303 monologue 80, 135, 163, 166, 175, 208, 209, 212, 214, 223, 225, 244, 245, 268, 273, 279, 280, 318 Monstrelet 184, 186, 187, 200, 216, 221, 354 Mort Artu 212, 221 Mousset 40, 61, 62, 66, 94, 120, 146, 151, 158, 167, 173, 350 multiplicity (of voices) 1, 82, 251, 291 see also heterogeneity, polyphony

 Subject index

N Nana 106–108, 117, 149, 226, 232–235, 277, 355 Nanteuil (Tristan de) 186, 187, 192, 197, 198, 218–221, 353 narrated discourse 14, 16, 24, 26–28, 35, 36, 46, 50, 59–61, 79–82, 85–87, 89–97, 100, 102, 104–106, 108–110, 120, 122–126, 134, 140, 143, 147–148, 163–164, 180, 187, 240, 247–248, 252, 254–255, 265, 267, 277, 281, 283, 287–290, 292, 295, 296, 298, 300–305, 312–321, 323 see also discours narrativisé narrated attitude 85, 123 narrated speech 85, 87, 88, 90, 93, 95, 100–104, 110, 284 narrated thought 58, 81, 85, 87, 90, 91, 93, 123, 124, 229, 284, 295, 298 narrated writing 85 narration of internal states 59, 81 narrative report 87–89, 94, 123, 124 narrative report of a speech act 87–89, 94 narrative report of voice 87–89, 123 narrating-self 26, 163, 164, 238, 240, 252, 254, 278, 279, 324 narration of internal states see narrated discourse narrative 1–3, 6, 9–13, 15, 26, 28, 29, 31–33, 36, 37, 40–46, 48, 65, 67, 73–75, 78, 81, 87–90, 94, 108, 110, 117, 122–124, 134–139, 141, 144, 147, 148, 150, 151, 154, 158, 160, 162–166, 168–170, 172–174, 187–189, 198, 202–207, 213, 216, 220, 222, 223, 225–227, 230, 232, 239–242, 245, 247,

250, 251, 256, 261, 262, 265–267, 273, 279–281, 283, 285, 293, 294, 299, 300, 303, 309, 313, 314, 316, 318, 323–326 narrative clause 10, 12, 74, 135, 136, 173, 174 narrative function 136, 137 natural narratives 16, 135, 138 narrative report see narrated discourse narrator 1–3, 6, 26–33, 36, 37, 81, 87, 90, 115, 123, 124, 136, 150, 163, 173, 174, 179, 183–185, 187–191, 194, 196, 197, 200, 201, 203, 205, 207, 212–214, 219, 221–223, 227–230, 233, 235, 236, 238, 240–242, 245–249, 251, 252, 255–257, 260, 264–266, 273–276, 280–282, 323 overbearing narrator 278, 324 narrator’s comments 248, 249 narrator-focaliser 232, 240, 272, 276 narrator-reporter 282 narrator-witness 278 narrator/character 278 narrator/enunciator 27, 228 naturalistes 246 neutral discourse 123, 133, 140, 143, 144, 154, 155, 157, 160, 162, 168, 171, 174, 176, 177, 187, 284, 318, 319, 321, 322 Nevchehirlian 41, 42, 45, 47, 48, 62, 68, 76, 86, 105, 116, 153, 155, 157, 169, 171, 173, 350 news magazine 284, 285, 294–296, 298, 300, 301, 303, 310, 312, 315–318, 320, 322, 323, 325, 357 news reports 283 newspaper 8, 63, 76, 79, 81, 89, 99, 112, 118, 126, 128, 257, 283–287, 290, 294, 296, 298–301, 303–307, 309–320, 322, 323, 325, 357

Subject index 

newsworthy 144, 301 non fiction 2–6, 26, 50, 323 non literature 3 non narrative 2, 3, 10, 136 Nouveau Roman 266, 274, 282 O objectivity 39, 100, 200, 283, 284, 288, 305, 313 Ombre (Lai de) 185, 211, 216, 222, 223, 231, 234, 246, 353 omniscient 236, 240, 247, 250, 274 oral features 197 oral nature of medieval French xi oralisation 133, 172, 264, 274, 309, 310, 313, 320, 322 oralised 208 orality 2, 3, 133, 172, 189, 190, 196, 197, 205, 279, 322 Orange 101, 103, 104, 127, 183, 185, 186, 192, 193, 218–220, 353, 354 orientation 12, 16, 135, 146, 173 original (reported discourse as) see anteriority overmarking 76, 82, 112, 113, 118, 121, 320 overmarked discourse 100 P Paris Match 97, 284, 285, 288, 296, 316–318, 357 parler vrai 233, 274 parole (versus langue) 20, 99 passé composé see tense passé simple see tense past tense see tense patchwork 269, 286, 289, 303, 312, 313, 325 see also collage, cut-and-paste Perceforest 180, 185, 203, 204, 207, 223, 354 perception 51, 58–61, 78–81, 95, 109, 122, 128, 164, 180, 205, 228, 230, 240, 248, 272, 273, 275–277, 325

performance 4, 186, 190, 198, 322 performative 20, 21, 65, 67, 69–73, 75, 78, 82, 83, 90, 106, 108, 110, 127, 129, 130, 134, 174, 191, 192, 196, 207, 216, 218, 219, 321, 324, 325 performative illusion 70 performer 6, 189 Pergaud 53, 144 persona 6, 172, 214, 222, 284, 287, 291, 295, 312 personal experiences 138, 163, 173, 197 photograph (reported discourse as) 326 Planétarium (Le) 226, 267–269, 271, 355 point of view 1, 2, 20–23, 31–33, 35–37, 43, 74, 77, 112, 136, 188–189, 205, 213, 216, 223, 225, 230, 232, 233, 236, 241, 251, 263, 275–277, 293, 324, 326 political debates 136 politicians 296, 309 polyphony xi, 1, 16, 21, 23, 34, 35, 129, 246, 263, 273, 281, 291 see also heterogeneity, multiplicity of voices popular French 252, 264 Pot Bouille 226, 355 pour moi 66, 77, 83, 116, 152, 243, 293 pour X 113, 114, 116–118, 121, 128 pragmatics xii, 16, 19, 33, 35, 134, 188, 189, 196 present perfect see tense present tense see tense press xi, xii, 1, 4–6, 9, 11, 15, 26, 27, 35, 46, 50, 54, 62, 79, 81, 85, 88, 89, 94, 95, 98–100, 103, 104, 108, 110–113, 116–118, 120, 122–124, 126–130, 133, 145, 172, 176, 177, 216, 225, 228, 229, 234, 278, 283–286, 294, 296, 298, 300, 301,

 Subject index

305, 310, 312–317, 319–322, 324, 353, 357 production 2, 8, 34, 43, 172, 266, 321, 322 pronunciation 19, 133, 134, 173, 320 prose Graal 181, 182, 187, 354 prose romance 207 prose romances xi, 2, 16, 81, 179, 185, 188, 189, 197, 198, 202–205, 207, 210–213, 215, 220, 221, 223, 323, 324, 354 prose Tristan 207, 210, 221, 223 prosody 188, 189 Proust 238, 275, 279 proverbs 13, 129 pseudo-narrative 138, 148, 154, 155, 157, 165, 166, 168, 169 see also argumentative pseudo-reproduction 43, 45, 46 punctual past 278 see also past tense punctuation 107, 108, 118, 124, 126, 134, 149, 211, 218, 228, 229, 231, 233–235, 277, 278 see also quotation marks, typographic marks pure narration 87, 93–95, 104, 109, 110, 148 Q Quatre-vingt-treize 225, 355 Queneau 226, 242, 244, 264–266, 273, 281, 322, 323, 355 quotation 16, 36, 44, 103, 137, 148, 245 quotation marks 23, 35, 79, 82, 95, 97–100, 116, 117, 122, 124–126, 128, 129, 134, 218, 241, 267, 268, 272, 278, 279, 283, 284, 287, 303, 305, 307–315, 318–320 see also punctuation, scare quotes R Raoul de Cambrai 180, 190, 197, 218, 353

re-contextualisation (of reported discourse) 303, 311, 312, 314 re-enactment 198, 322 reader 5, 29, 30, 37, 54, 79, 99, 174, 175, 197, 218, 225, 229, 233, 235, 248, 250–252, 260, 262, 264, 265, 272, 274, 280, 282–289, 291–295, 298, 301, 303, 305, 306, 309, 311–313, 316, 317,319, 323–324 see also listeners-readers implied reader 37 reality 8, 15, 34, 188, 189, 213, 216, 251, 256, 263, 274, 277, 280, 311, 313, 316, 323, 324 reciprocal 63, 142 recycled 288 reflexive 76, 106, 108, 110, 134, 153, 164, 167, 168, 177, 200, 201, 221, 246, 252, 321, 322, 324, 325 reflexive clause 72–75, 138 reflexive meaning 63, 142 register 9, 25, 171, 320, 322 reliable 76 religious 7, 116, 117, 197, 202, 207, 213, 222 reportability 85, 93, 138, 168 reported discourse 39–78, 122, 174 represented speech and thought 16 reproduction 40, 43–46, 49, 67, 78, 79, 158, 162, 321 reproductive intent 46 responsibility 23, 26, 36, 44, 67, 69, 74, 75, 82, 99, 111, 112, 137, 147, 176, 177, 225, 286, 305 rhetoric of truth 197, 198 rhetorical 2, 9, 14, 170–172, 220, 223, 312, 324 Robbe-Grillet 266, 274, 282 Robert de Boron see Boron Robert de Clari see Clari Roland 185, 189, 191, 193–195, 203, 217–220, 353 romans réalistes 246

Subject index 

Ruffini 65, 351 rumours 103, 289, 295 S S&TP strategies xii, xiv, 2, 3, 8, 11, 13, 28, 45, 78, 85, 122, 135, 160, 179, 189, 197, 198, 215, 219, 223, 225, 226, 240, 245, 273, 282, 284, 285, 287, 296, 298, 309, 312, 321–326 Saint Alexis (Vie de) 186, 353 Saint Louis (Vie de) 221, 354 Saintré (Le Roman de Jehan de) 53, 185, 207, 221, 223, 354 saliency 316 Sarraute 226, 266–269, 271, 273, 274, 282, 324, 355 Savelli 116, 121, 139, 351 scare quotes 126, 315 see also quotation marks scribendi 49, 63, 158, 160, 162 second-person 142, 170–171, 192, 218, 222, 223, 226, 242, 291, 312 self see the Self Selin 59, 60, 116, 140, 152, 162–164, 166, 172, 173, 351 selon moi 77, 83, 115, 120, 128 selon X 35, 110, 113–118, 121, 122, 128, 129, 294, 301, 321, 325 semantic criteria 78, 90, 109, 321 sentence-token 34 sentence-type 34 sentiendi 23, 24, 49, 50, 52, 54, 56, 63, 69, 76, 80, 81, 93, 94, 122, 127, 142, 148, 151, 153, 155, 157, 160, 162, 165, 174, 180, 210, 211, 229, 241, 242, 248, 251, 252, 260, 264, 273, 279, 284, 286, 315 sequence 9–13, 26, 34, 36, 46, 47, 73, 74, 75, 78, 101, 110, 102, 135, 136, 140, 148, 154, 155, 157, 158, 160, 162, 163, 165–171, 173, 174, 189, 265, 279, 283, 285, 286, 299, 300, 303, 312, 313, 316, 322, 324

sequence types 11, 13 shifters 20, 34 Simon 266, 282 simple past see tense slang 251, 264, 319 social construction 15 social practice 8, 15 sociolinguistic 135, 173 ‘soft news’ magazines 296, 298, 312 solidarity 144, 320 sous-conversation 267, 270, 272 speaking subject 21, 22, 25, 26, 28, 31 speech act 6, 14, 15, 20, 21, 34, 36, 67–70, 82, 83, 87–89, 94, 101, 108, 123, 126–127, 136, 137, 174, 187, 192 speech genre xi, 1, 7–9, 11, 13–15, 50, 53, 133, 135, 162, 283, 321, 322, 325, 326 see also genre speech report 90 speech representation 16 split subject 1, 15, 21, 321 spoken conversations 50, 135, 151, 322 spoken French 2, 39, 40, 42, 50, 53, 55, 64, 66, 71, 79–81, 83, 89, 91, 92, 98–104, 116, 119, 125, 126, 128, 133–136, 138, 142–145, 150, 151, 155, 160–162, 172, 175, 176, 186, 189, 196, 208, 216, 225, 226, 252, 264–266, 274, 275, 278–281, 322–325 spontaneous oral narrative 4, 40 staging discourse 2, 67, 75–77, 127, 142, 165, 189, 245, 281, 299, 324–325 see also theatricalisation Stendhal 14, 115, 225, 235, 237, 238, 278, 324, 355 stream of consciousness 244, 245, 280 style xiii, 14, 25, 55, 80, 88, 176, 183, 217, 222, 251, 252, 273, 276, 296, 308, 309, 311, 312, 320, 322 “style” 25, 142–144, 149, 175

 Subject index

subjective 4, 53, 61, 70, 101, 150, 230, 232, 235, 267, 276, 278, 315, 324 subjective description 276, 278 subordinating conjunction 23, 35 summaries with quotation 124 see also Direct Discourse with que support function 136, 137 suspicion 201, 250, 274 syntactic criteria (to recognize narrated discourse) 85, 109 T tabloid 307, 311, 320 tense xi, 3, 15, 16, 23, 24, 28, 34, 80, 83, 98, 108, 128, 138, 140, 147, 148, 150, 154–156, 160, 180–182, 184, 185, 187, 190, 192, 194, 196–198, 200, 205, 216, 218–220, 239–242, 245, 251, 256, 267, 273, 276, 278, 281–283, 287, 303, 305, 306, 308, 313 future 2, 12, 35, 53, 66, 74, 111, 138, 147, 148, 150, 154, 174, 175, 180, 184, 185, 190, 192, 196, 197, 218, 219, 226, 278, 288, 305–308 imperfect (imparfait) 147, 148, 220, 226, 240, 249, 251, 251, 256, 262, 276, 278, 279 passé composé (present perfect) 43, 81, 148, 180, 185, 240, 251, 265, 278 passé simple (simple past) 220, 240, 251, 264, 265, 278 past tense 43, 46, 104 present tense 58, 66, 70, 97, 162, 166, 219, 240, 242, 254, 275, 279, 282, 293, 294, 323 atemporal present 139 generic present 157, 279 historical present 64, 65, 170

tense alternation see alternation and mixing of tenses text 1, 3–12, 14, 16, 20, 21, 27–33, 115, 128, 130, 134, 137, 162, 177, 179, 186, 188, 193, 200, 204, 205, 207, 211, 212, 218, 220–222, 236–238, 240, 245–247, 249, 250, 266, 267, 270, 273, 278, 280, 281, 286, 287, 303–309, 312, 313, 315, 319, 351 text types 11 textual function 287, 313, 316 textual islet 98, 124–126, 298, 303, 305, 306, 307, 309, 310, 312, 315, 318–320 the Self 2, 65, 78, 82, 324, 325 theatre play 22, 42, 171 theatricalisation 76–78, 115, 266 see also dramatization, staging discourse third-person 48, 53, 69, 71, 78, 97, 115, 116, 138, 154, 155, 158, 160, 162, 166–172, 198, 200, 219, 227, 235, 240, 245, 264–265, 267–268, 273, 278, 284–285, 292, 324 third-person narration 30, 31, 37, 170, 223, 226, 242, 265, 267 thought act 36, 69, 108, 124 thought report 90 tone of voice 191, 241 transcription 36, 134 translation 12, 14–16, 19, 48, 77, 98, 107, 108, 112, 113, 118, 149, 205, 228, 229, 231, 233–239, 241–244, 247, 249, 250, 252–258, 260, 262–267, 269, 270, 272, 277, 278, 280 translators 279 transposition 14, 23, 26, 39, 97–99, 122, 124, 129, 148, 153, 155, 156, 175, 176, 182, 186, 187, 203, 205,

Subject index 

207, 210, 220, 222, 239, 241–243, 267, 275, 283, 303, 313 Tricon 156, 159, 173, 351 Tristan de Nanteuil see Nanteuil truth 2, 26, 110, 111, 121, 129, 176, 179, 192, 197–200, 202, 204, 207, 213, 214, 220, 232, 258, 259, 270, 280, 292, 323, 325 Tscharner 56, 58, 62, 116, 119, 127, 152, 159, 170–173, 351 typographic marks 96, 241, 242, 265, 273, 303 see also punctuation and quotation marks U unplanned 135, 151 unreliable 119, 264 utterance 15, 16, 19–23, 32, 34, 40, 44, 45, 49, 67, 69, 70, 72, 74, 76, 78–80, 88–90, 100, 111, 112, 117, 120, 124, 128, 129, 135, 137, 138, 147, 158, 160, 196, 242, 247, 282, 305, 318 utterance-type 40 V verbalisation 92, 93, 141, 148, 154 verbatimness 79, 292 verisimilitude 37, 213, 232, 293, 323 see also authenticity vernacular 2, 197, 205, 220, 222 verse Graal 106 verse romances 179, 184, 185, 188, 205, 207, 211–213, 216, 218, 220, 221, 223, 323, 324, 353 verse Tristan 196, 187, 208, 222, 353 Vilagines 142, 351 Villehardouin 184, 186, 198, 199, 221, 354 virtual 42, 65, 66, 80, 90 vivacity 26, 228, 247, 260, 263, 265, 305, 306, 309, 313

voice 21, 22, 25, 27, 30–32, 35, 37, 79, 87–89, 107, 123, 130, 137, 158, 188, 189, 191, 200, 202, 203, 205, 207, 213, 223, 227, 239–241, 245, 250, 251, 260, 261, 265–267, 271, 273, 281, 286–288, 291, 292, 306, 323, 324, 326 Voici 119, 284–286, 288, 289, 294, 298, 316, 317, 357 Voyage au bout de la nuit 226, 242, 251–254, 256, 322, 324, 355 W witness 79, 119, 136, 137, 144, 171, 183, 190, 199, 208, 233, 247, 276, 284, 285, 291, 292, 300, 312 witness account 291 witness inside the story 233 women’s magazine 89, 117, 284, 287, 291–295, 298, 312, 315, 317, 322, 323, 357 writer 5, 6, 28–30, 37, 130, 245, 275 writing 2–4, 6, 15, 16, 21, 26, 49, 50, 61–62, 78, 80, 85, 133, 141, 158, 160–162, 175, 177 written press xi, xii, 50, 79, 81, 98, 104, 124, 133, 145, 172, 216, 225, 283 Wuthering Heights 28, 30 Y Yvain 184, 217, 222, 223, 353 Z Zazie dans le métro 226, 242, 244, 264–266, 279, 322, 355 Zola 106, 107, 117, 149, 150, 225–227, 232–236, 240, 246, 274, 275, 277, 323, 355

In the Pragmatics & Beyond New Series the following titles have been published thus far or are scheduled for publication: 143 BAKER, Carolyn D., Michael EMMISON and Alan FIRTH (eds.): Calling for Help. Language and social interaction in telephone helplines. xvii, 346 pp. + index. Expected November 2005 142 SIDNELL, Jack: Talk and Practical Epistemology. The social life of knowledge in a Caribbean community. xx, 259 pp. + index. Expected October 2005 141 ZHU, Yunxia: Written Communication across Cultures. A sociocognitive perspective on business genres. xviii, 208 pp. + index. Expected October 2005 140 BUTLER, Christopher S., María de los Ángeles GÓMEZ-GONZÁLEZ and Susana M. DOVALSUÁREZ (eds.): The Dynamics of Language Use. Functional and contrastive perspectives. xv, 392 pp. + index. Expected September 2005 139 LAKOFF, Robin T. and Sachiko IDE (eds.): Broadening the Horizon of Linguistic Politeness. x, 335 pp. + index. Expected October 2005 138 MÜLLER, Simone: Discourse Markers in Native and Non-native English Discourse. ix, 282 pp. + index. Expected October 2005 137 MORITA, Emi: Negotiation of Contingent Talk. The Japanese interactional particles ne and sa. xii, 235 pp. + index. Expected August 2005 136 SASSEN, Claudia: Linguistic Dimensions of Crisis Talk. Formalising structures in a controlled language. x, 223 pp. + index. Expected September 2005 135 ARCHER, Dawn: Questions and Answers in the English Courtroom (1640–1760). A sociopragmatic analysis. 2005. xiv, 374 pp. 134 SKAFFARI, Janne, Matti PEIKOLA, Ruth CARROLL, Risto HILTUNEN and Brita WÅRVIK (eds.): Opening Windows on Texts and Discourses of the Past. 2005. x, 418 pp. 133 MARNETTE, Sophie: Speech and Thought Presentation in French. Concepts and strategies. 2005. xiv, 379 pp. 132 ONODERA, Noriko O.: Japanese Discourse Markers. Synchronic and diachronic discourse analysis. 2004. xiv, 253 pp. 131 JANOSCHKA, Anja: Web Advertising. New forms of communication on the Internet. 2004. xiv, 230 pp. 130 HALMARI, Helena and Tuija VIRTANEN (eds.): Persuasion Across Genres. A linguistic approach. 2005. x, 257 pp. 129 TABOADA, María Teresa: Building Coherence and Cohesion. Task-oriented dialogue in English and Spanish. 2004. xvii, 264 pp. 128 CORDELLA, Marisa: The Dynamic Consultation. A discourse analytical study of doctor–patient communication. 2004. xvi, 254 pp. 127 BRISARD, Frank, Michael MEEUWIS and Bart VANDENABEELE (eds.): Seduction, Community, Speech. A Festschrift for Herman Parret. 2004. vi, 202 pp. 126 WU, Yi’an: Spatial Demonstratives in English and Chinese. Text and Cognition. 2004. xviii, 236 pp. 125 LERNER, Gene H. (ed.): Conversation Analysis. Studies from the first generation. 2004. x, 302 pp. 124 VINE, Bernadette: Getting Things Done at Work. The discourse of power in workplace interaction. 2004. x, 278 pp. 123 MÁRQUEZ REITER, Rosina and María Elena PLACENCIA (eds.): Current Trends in the Pragmatics of Spanish. 2004. xvi, 383 pp. 122 GONZÁLEZ, Montserrat: Pragmatic Markers in Oral Narrative. The case of English and Catalan. 2004. xvi, 410 pp. 121 FETZER, Anita: Recontextualizing Context. Grammaticality meets appropriateness. 2004. x, 272 pp. 120 AIJMER, Karin and Anna-Brita STENSTRÖM (eds.): Discourse Patterns in Spoken and Written Corpora. 2004. viii, 279 pp. 119 HILTUNEN, Risto and Janne SKAFFARI (eds.): Discourse Perspectives on English. Medieval to modern. 2003. viii, 243 pp. 118 CHENG, Winnie: Intercultural Conversation. 2003. xii, 279 pp.

117 WU, Ruey-Jiuan Regina: Stance in Talk. A conversation analysis of Mandarin final particles. 2004. xvi, 260 pp. 116 GRANT, Colin B. (ed.): Rethinking Communicative Interaction. New interdisciplinary horizons. 2003. viii, 330 pp. 115 KÄRKKÄINEN, Elise: Epistemic Stance in English Conversation. A description of its interactional functions, with a focus on I think. 2003. xii, 213 pp. 114 KÜHNLEIN, Peter, Hannes RIESER and Henk ZEEVAT (eds.): Perspectives on Dialogue in the New Millennium. 2003. xii, 400 pp. 113 PANTHER, Klaus-Uwe and Linda L. THORNBURG (eds.): Metonymy and Pragmatic Inferencing. 2003. xii, 285 pp. 112 LENZ, Friedrich (ed.): Deictic Conceptualisation of Space, Time and Person. 2003. xiv, 279 pp. 111 ENSINK, Titus and Christoph SAUER (eds.): Framing and Perspectivising in Discourse. 2003. viii, 227 pp. 110 ANDROUTSOPOULOS, Jannis K. and Alexandra GEORGAKOPOULOU (eds.): Discourse Constructions of Youth Identities. 2003. viii, 343 pp. 109 MAYES, Patricia: Language, Social Structure, and Culture. A genre analysis of cooking classes in Japan and America. 2003. xiv, 228 pp. 108 BARRON, Anne: Acquisition in Interlanguage Pragmatics. Learning how to do things with words in a study abroad context. 2003. xviii, 403 pp. 107 TAAVITSAINEN, Irma and Andreas H. JUCKER (eds.): Diachronic Perspectives on Address Term Systems. 2003. viii, 446 pp. 106 BUSSE, Ulrich: Linguistic Variation in the Shakespeare Corpus. Morpho-syntactic variability of second person pronouns. 2002. xiv, 344 pp. 105 BLACKWELL, Sarah E.: Implicatures in Discourse. The case of Spanish NP anaphora. 2003. xvi, 303 pp. 104 BEECHING, Kate: Gender, Politeness and Pragmatic Particles in French. 2002. x, 251 pp. 103 FETZER, Anita and Christiane MEIERKORD (eds.): Rethinking Sequentiality. Linguistics meets conversational interaction. 2002. vi, 300 pp. 102 LEAFGREN, John: Degrees of Explicitness. Information structure and the packaging of Bulgarian subjects and objects. 2002. xii, 252 pp. 101 LUKE, Kang Kwong and Theodossia-Soula PAVLIDOU (eds.): Telephone Calls. Unity and diversity in conversational structure across languages and cultures. 2002. x, 295 pp. 100 JASZCZOLT, Katarzyna M. and Ken TURNER (eds.): Meaning Through Language Contrast. Volume 2. 2003. viii, 496 pp. 99 JASZCZOLT, Katarzyna M. and Ken TURNER (eds.): Meaning Through Language Contrast. Volume 1. 2003. xii, 388 pp. 98 DUSZAK, Anna (ed.): Us and Others. Social identities across languages, discourses and cultures. 2002. viii, 522 pp. 97 MAYNARD, Senko K.: Linguistic Emotivity. Centrality of place, the topic-comment dynamic, and an ideology of pathos in Japanese discourse. 2002. xiv, 481 pp. 96 HAVERKATE, Henk: The Syntax, Semantics and Pragmatics of Spanish Mood. 2002. vi, 241 pp. 95 FITZMAURICE, Susan M.: The Familiar Letter in Early Modern English. A pragmatic approach. 2002. viii, 263 pp. 94 McILVENNY, Paul (ed.): Talking Gender and Sexuality. 2002. x, 332 pp. 93 BARON, Bettina and Helga KOTTHOFF (eds.): Gender in Interaction. Perspectives on femininity and masculinity in ethnography and discourse. 2002. xxiv, 357 pp. 92 GARDNER, Rod: When Listeners Talk. Response tokens and listener stance. 2001. xxii, 281 pp. 91 GROSS, Joan: Speaking in Other Voices. An ethnography of Walloon puppet theaters. 2001. xxviii, 341 pp. 90 KENESEI, István and Robert M. HARNISH (eds.): Perspectives on Semantics, Pragmatics, and Discourse. A Festschrift for Ferenc Kiefer. 2001. xxii, 352 pp.

A complete list of titles in this series can be found on the publishers’ website, www.benjamins.com