
Vincent Bucher
Supervisors: Christine Savinel
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Papers by Vincent Bucher
Recognizing the impossibility of an a priori characterization of the text, we consequently turn to its composition as a guide for our reading. The importance of source material (whether archival or contemporary), the span it covers from quasi-documentary sociological sequence to personal testimony and its inclusion of graphic documents all suggest The Rifles’ proximity with the methodology of historical enquiry, distancing it from the literary. This epistemological preoccupation with facts and systems (as opposed to narratives), materialized by the title of this text understood as a programmatic, analytic concept, would announce the disassembly of the form of the novel as well as of the heroic and picturesque narratives of Franklin that could have supported it.
This hypothesis would help to explain the strategic importance of paratext in the novel, as an ideal place from which this challenge to the literary might be made. In so far as it blurs the distinction between the referential and the diegetic, the paratext indicates metonymically that this text does not function as an organic whole but gestures towards a topical context, a pragmatic objective, a rational paradigm. It therefore comes as no surprise if Vollmann should choose this vantage to state what appears to be the purpose of the text, writing to the Makivik Corporation: "Tell me if there is anything that can be done, anything that you are doing, that has hope of addressing these long term problems, and if there is anything that my readers (by and large, US and British people of average decency, without much real knowledge of the Inuit) can learn from you, do with you or help you with." (401)
As is suggested here, the author literally intends to put the text to work, informing the reader of a repressed historical truth and hence hoping to convert the latter from a passive aesthetic bystander to a social activist. Yet, this optimistic call to action based on the reinstatement of fact seems to be undermined, if only by the very limited scope of the readership considered and the apparent indifference of the Makivik Corporation to Vollmann’s proposal.
The idealism of this posture of setting the records straight is far more ambiguous than might have been thought at first. As we read, we come to realize that the possibility of historical discourse, and the action which is predicated on it, are challenged by an arctic space not merely hostile but utterly foreign to it. Not only is narrativity disassembled but also the possibility of fact, universal reason, causality, objects and documents.
This chapter argues that the notion of “dream”, evoked in the title of the series, comes to signify not so much the vague ambition to re-enchant the bleak reality of the arctic world but to qualify this constant shuttling back and forth between systematic enquiry and narrative quest which exposes the common dream of agency and liberation at the root of the expeditions of both the 19th and 20th centuries: that western history might be capable of fashioning and redeeming itself.
Recognizing the impossibility of an a priori characterization of the text, we consequently turn to its composition as a guide for our reading. The importance of source material (whether archival or contemporary), the span it covers from quasi-documentary sociological sequence to personal testimony and its inclusion of graphic documents all suggest The Rifles’ proximity with the methodology of historical enquiry, distancing it from the literary. This epistemological preoccupation with facts and systems (as opposed to narratives), materialized by the title of this text understood as a programmatic, analytic concept, would announce the disassembly of the form of the novel as well as of the heroic and picturesque narratives of Franklin that could have supported it.
This hypothesis would help to explain the strategic importance of paratext in the novel, as an ideal place from which this challenge to the literary might be made. In so far as it blurs the distinction between the referential and the diegetic, the paratext indicates metonymically that this text does not function as an organic whole but gestures towards a topical context, a pragmatic objective, a rational paradigm. It therefore comes as no surprise if Vollmann should choose this vantage to state what appears to be the purpose of the text, writing to the Makivik Corporation: "Tell me if there is anything that can be done, anything that you are doing, that has hope of addressing these long term problems, and if there is anything that my readers (by and large, US and British people of average decency, without much real knowledge of the Inuit) can learn from you, do with you or help you with." (401)
As is suggested here, the author literally intends to put the text to work, informing the reader of a repressed historical truth and hence hoping to convert the latter from a passive aesthetic bystander to a social activist. Yet, this optimistic call to action based on the reinstatement of fact seems to be undermined, if only by the very limited scope of the readership considered and the apparent indifference of the Makivik Corporation to Vollmann’s proposal.
The idealism of this posture of setting the records straight is far more ambiguous than might have been thought at first. As we read, we come to realize that the possibility of historical discourse, and the action which is predicated on it, are challenged by an arctic space not merely hostile but utterly foreign to it. Not only is narrativity disassembled but also the possibility of fact, universal reason, causality, objects and documents.
This chapter argues that the notion of “dream”, evoked in the title of the series, comes to signify not so much the vague ambition to re-enchant the bleak reality of the arctic world but to qualify this constant shuttling back and forth between systematic enquiry and narrative quest which exposes the common dream of agency and liberation at the root of the expeditions of both the 19th and 20th centuries: that western history might be capable of fashioning and redeeming itself.