When thinking about allegory today, The Plague by Albert Camus
might come to mind. Camus’s narrative—an epidemic ravaging a city in French
Algeria—has long been interpreted as an allegory for the Nazi occupation of
France during the 1940s. The events in the novel unfold on two levels
simultaneously: the literal health crisis and the symbolic struggle against
tyranny. However, Fredric Jameson critiques this kind of allegory as “bad
allegory at its most consummate”. His objection lies in how it uncritically
merges the natural with the historical, effectively masking ideological
processes. By aligning these two layers without disruption, the text makes
historical conflict appear as if it were a natural phenomenon. For Jameson,
this seamless unification exemplifies how ideology functions—it presents socially
constructed realities as natural facts.
Jameson’s critique is particularly relevant in light of recent events. With
the Covid-19 pandemic, Camus’s The Plague has experienced a resurgence
in popularity, with readers finding it eerily resonant. Yet this allegorical
framework has also been adopted by political rhetoric, though in reverse: while
Camus used a plague to stand for war, contemporary leaders use war metaphors to
represent the pandemic. This recycling of allegorical thought perpetuates the
ideological trick Jameson identifies—blurring the boundaries between history
and nature.
For readers frustrated by such simplifications, Jameson offers a more
nuanced approach to allegory. In his work, Jameson explores allegory as a
complex form of representation that resists simplistic unifications. His book,
after laying out the theoretical foundations in the early chapters, delves into
various topics, such as the history of emotions, interpretations of Hamlet,
Mahler’s sixth symphony, and postcolonial literature. Along the way, he
examines more conventional allegorical writers like Spenser, Dante, and Goethe,
before closing with a reflection on postmodern allegoresis. The book culminates
with three dense appendices, challenging readers to rethink allegory as more
than an outdated literary device—it becomes a tool for grappling with the
contradictions of modern life.
Jameson’s long-standing interest in allegory stretches back to earlier
works, such as The Hegel Variations and The Political Unconscious.
Central to his exploration is a return to the fourfold allegorical method
developed by early Christian theologians, particularly Origen, for interpreting
the Hebrew Scriptures. This method identifies four levels of meaning: the
literal (a concrete event), the allegorical (its symbolic parallel), the
personal (the interpreter’s investment), and the collective or political (the
broader social implications). For instance, early Christians might read the
exodus from Egypt as a prefiguration of Christ’s resurrection, much like Marx
interprets the French Revolution through the lens of Roman history in The
Eighteenth Brumaire.
The power of this method lies in its refusal to collapse these layers into a
single meaning. Each level introduces a new perspective—moving from individual
significance to collective struggle—while maintaining their distinctions. This
approach contrasts sharply with “bad allegory,” which disregards the tensions
between personal and collective, unconscious and political. In good allegory,
these tensions remain unresolved but interconnected, creating a dynamic
structure where meanings resonate across different levels without becoming
identical.
For Jameson, the value of allegory lies in its “profound discontinuity” . It
emerges as a response to historical crises—moments when contradictions within
society become too stark to be smoothed over by ideology. Allegory surfaces
when the symbolic harmony of everyday life can no longer contain the fractures
beneath. As Jameson puts it, allegory arises when “the tectonic plates of
deeper contradictory levels of the Real shift and grate ominously against one
another”. These moments demand acknowledgment, even though they resist neat
representation. Ideology, by contrast, offers the illusion of harmony—an
imaginary resolution of those contradictions.
Allegory, in Jameson’s reading, stands at the intersection between ideology
and its critique. It does not resolve the contradictions but lays them bare,
creating a space where we can confront the gaps and dissonances between the
personal and collective, the psychological and social. This makes allegory a
site of tension: it acknowledges the fractured nature of social reality while
still holding its fragments together. As Jameson suggests, allegory can serve
as both a coping mechanism and a prompt for deeper insight, urging us toward
“more expansive knowledge” (34).
No comments:
Post a Comment