In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Exemplarities: A Response to Timothy Hampton and Karlheinz StierleFrançois Cornilliat*Karlheinz Stierle and Timothy Hampton have both played a major part in defining and mapping the much-debated subject of exemplarity: Stierle as early as 1972, in his ground-breaking article for Poétique, 1 Hampton in his acclaimed 1990 book, Writing from History. 2 While their approaches have a lot in common, they also reveal a number of important differences, and it (...) seems to me that those differences teach us something not only about the problem of exemplarity in the Renaissance but also about the role played by that notion in our latest effort to capture that mercurial era. In what follows I will—somewhat unfairly—focus on the conceptual differences revealed by our authors’ contributions and reflect on what they suggest regarding the problematic usefulness of the exemplary in the Renaissance as well as in Renaissance studies.A convenient place to start, to differentiate the two contributions, is the status of the emerging genre of the novella vis-à-vis the problem of exemplarity. For Stierle “contingency is the real poet of the novella.” For Hampton, the novella genre also marks a shift in the regime of exemplarity, but the “real poet of the novella” is not exactly contingency; it is not exemplarity either, but some kind of sub-species. Yet to define that sub-species in Hamptonian terms is to abandon the immanent or “formal” descriptions practiced in the discipline of “pure” poetics. It would not be sufficient, for instance, to decide that the novella poetic principle is “political exemplarity,” [End Page 613] as opposed to “moral exemplarity.” Hampton tells us that the Heptameron recasts the fictions of aristocratic heroism “as tales whose exemplarity is moral, rather than political.” But such a recasting, seen from another level of interpretation, is indeed a political gesture.Whatever is political—as a topic—in the romance genre, is anachronistic and fictional; it is a set of poetic tricks appealing only to private fantasy. Fantasy, however, still has the capacity to mistaking itself for a pertinent social ambition and a program for action, as in the case of Don Quixote. This makes it all the more visible as a symptom of displaced politics. Whatever is moral—as a topic—in the novella genre, bears witness to the prince’s reinforced power to define what noble people are supposed to do—to talk about, that is, within closely guarded borders. The “moral” is, if considered in its infrastructure, a topic mapped by the political; similarly the production of discourse, the very domain of rhetoric or poetics is recast as the new type of political “action” expected from the former ruling class. So the “real poet” of the novella splits in two; and in that sense, one could say that the novella has no such thing as a “real poet.” The poets of the novella are a class whose conception of exemplarity has just been redefined by the prince. One could say that the “real poet” is the prince or the emerging nation state, but this would overlook the division of tasks between the poet and the prince. Instead of expressing the values of its own politics, the poetic class of the Heptameron’s narrators fundamentally exemplifies those values which the prince or the state allows them to have. Conversely, it is not the prince who does the talking or the writing in this exemplification process. And this, incidentally, leads us to a perhaps naive question about the status of the Queen of Navarre as an author vis-à-vis this new princely role: is she on one side or the other, is she a go-between?At any rate, exemplarity also splits: a good exemplar of those recast values (say, honnesteté) also exemplifies something else which is not set within those values per se but has to do with who institutes them, and why. In other words a good exemplar is also, from an interpretative standpoint, immediately a symptom, insofar as it is an operator for some invisible casting. Behind a “I want to be like x” kind of statement lurks an “I want you to be like that,” with the latter... (shrink)