Possession. A Romance

A.S. Byatt

When a writer calls his work a Romance, it need hardly be observed that he wishes to claim a certain latitude, both as to its fashion and material, which he would not have felt himself entitled to assume, had he professed to be writing a Novel. The latter form of composition is presumed to aim at a very minute fidelity, not merely to the possible, but to the probable and ordinary course of man's experience. The former-while as a work of art, it must rigidly subject itself to laws, and while it sins unpardonably so far as it may swerve aside from the truth of the human heart-has fairly a right to present that truth under circumstances, to a great extent, of the writer's own choosing or creation. . . . The point of view in which this tale comes under the Romantic definition lies in the attempt to connect a bygone time with the very present that is flitting away from us.

-NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE

Preface to The House of the Seven Gable

And if at whiles the bubble, blown too thin,

Seem nigh on bursting,-if you nearly see

The real world through the false,-what do you see?

Is the old so ruined? You find you're in a flock

O' the youthful, earnest, passionate-genius, beauty,

Rank and wealth also, if you care for these:

And all depose their natural rights, hail you,

(That's me, sir) as their mate and yoke-fellow,

Participate in Sludgehood-nay, grow mine,

I veritably possess them-. . .

And all this might be, may be, and with good help

Of a little lying shall be: so Sludge lies!

Why, he's at worst your poet who sings how Greeks

That never were, in Troy which never was,

Did this or the other impossible great thing! . . .

But why do I mount to poets? Take plain prose-

Dealers in common sense, set these at work,

What can they do without their helpful lies?

Each states the law and fact and face o' the thing

Just as he'd have them, finds what he thinks fit,

Is blind to what missuits him, just records

What makes his case out, quite ignores the rest.

It's a History of the World, the Lizard Age,

The Early Indians, the Old Country War,

Jerome Napoleon, whatsoever you please.

All as the author wants it. Such a scribe

You pay and praise for putting life in stones,

Fire into fog, making the past your world.

There's plenty of 'How did you contrive to grasp

The thread which led you through this labyrinth?

How build such solid fabric out of air?

How on so slight foundation found this tale,

Biography, narrative?' or, in other words,

'How many lies did it require to make

The portly truth you here present us with?'

-Robert Browning

from "Mr Sludge, 'the Medium' "