With
Le retour de Cromwell Stone, the fantastic becomes fixed in a more classical
set of themes of the relationship between man and fragments of alterity. But as an
element in a series--a sequel to a previous volume--the challenge in this volume is no
less precise. According to Todorov, a fantastic story loses part of its evocative power
during a second reading. Because all doubt has been dispelled, any re-reading of a
fantastic story becomes a kind of meta-reading (Todorov, 1970: 95). So how could the
feeling of hesitation and confusion, which is so characteristic of the fantastic,
survive at all? In The Return, indeed, the story takes the traditional path of the fantastic
and stages the quest of an innocent character/narrator trying to come to terms with a
reality beyond his comprehension, in which he has to face his shattered perceptions.
But this in itself is hardly enough to restore the experience of sensory friction in
the reader-besides, what Todorov said about a re-reading can also be said about a story's
sequel. How can we re-establish this feeling of confusion in a story where the elements of
the fantastic are already familiar and have been put in context in advance? In fact,
far from trying to minimize this effect of re-reading, Andreas uses it as a stepping stone
to develop other narrative strategies aiming at the fantastic effect.
The opening page of The Return of Cromwell Stone (see Figure 3) does not, unlike
the one in Coutoo, attract attention by the construction of an improbable reality. On the
contrary, the Andreas reader is rather struck by a strange feeling of familiarity,
a "déjà-vu." The reader cannot but compare it to the opening page of the first story
of this cycle (see Figure 4), which it recreates in theme as well as composition.
This recreation is both meticulous and strangely shifted. Just as the incipit-page of
the first Cromwell Stone, it is structured around a composition with two similarly
proportioned panel sequences (about 2/5 and 3/5 in height), and it presents a similar
distribution in the panel sequences: the top panel sequence consists of five panels,
and the bottom panel sequence is filled by only one image. We also find the same
distribution of elements (one character is running towards the right in the top
panel sequence, and the building to which the character is running is shown on the
bottom panel) and the same system of focus: zoom-in in the top panel sequence, general
overview in the bottom panel sequence, with quite similar postures on certain panels (17).
To this, we can add the recurrence of a quotation in the bottom image (18).
However, paradoxically, the similarities of these incipit-pages
(see Figures 3 and 4) help bear out some distinguishing characteristics that are
essentially thematic (19). The male character is replaced by a young woman; the
feeling of salvation (At last!) becomes one of dejection (I can't bear it anymore!)(20).
Besides, the mineral elements (rocks, cliff) and aqueous elements (sea, rain)
that dominated the first incipit have now been replaced by an abundance of vegetation
(trees, herbs, plants) and full darkness after dusk. The most significant element,
in this play of similarities and differences, is reserved for the reading:
the quotations seem to fit together and react to each other. The first quotation ends
with three suspension points, whereas the first word of the second quotation,
"because," is preceded by three suspension points. Thus, the second quotation seems
to be an explanation of the first one: "Fear is the oldest emotion of mankind
because man is but a tiny creature...(21)
Despite the constant plot shifts in the volume, the feeling of familiarity
initiated on the first page does not diminish during the reading (22), and the composition
of this incipit-page becomes emblematic of the narrative strategy in its entirety,
since this volume actually resumes the first one, both in its general conception
and in its set of themes.
Similar structural effects are used in both volumes: abrupt narratives,
multiplying flashbacks, and even second-level flashbacks (23), so that the reading oscillates
between three distinct but interlaced levels of temporality (24). Even the frameworks of
these narratives seem to echo one another: here again, Cromwell Stone returns from Europe
to America by boat; here again, the "key" is on board; here again, "wreckers" will step
in during the crossing; here again, Stone and his companion will come back to Loatham,
revisiting places that are still recognizable, despite the invasion of vegetation--Stone's
house, the water tank, the enigmatic tower. Thus, the title, The Return of Cromwell Stone,
has a threefold meaning: the return of a character who has been away for ten years,
the return of a character to the site of his past adventures, and the return of the
framework of the first volume.
Surprisingly, this familiarity does not diminish the effect of the fantastic
in the narrative. On the contrary, it constitutes the very essence of this effect. With
The Return of Cromwell Stone, the reader is not simply confronted with a series of events
that is innocently added to those of the first volume. Instead, the linearity of the
chain of events is reinforced by a logic that takes the shape of a spiral. A new, shifted
loop presents itself: not only does The Return stage events that seem to repeat those of
the previous volume, it also includes these in a larger view, providing the framework of
the first volume with a new series of events, upstream as well as downstream. Far from
being a useless repetition, this movement has a destabilizing effect because the narrative,
as it unfolds, systematically modifies many perceptions and certainties previously acquired
by the reader who, confronted with these reversals (25), will be led to a new and surprising
reconstruction of the way this universe works. Thus, the author's strategy can be perceived
more clearly-far from minimizing the proximity to previous adventures, he builds on the
reader's acquired knowledge and plays a structural game by introducing elements diverging
from this knowledge (26). It is from this forced re-reading, maintained by the narrative
structure and its shifts, that the feeling of confusion arises, which was effectively begun
on the opening page (27).
