The Darnton Debate: Books and Revolution in the Eighteenth Century

Published July 14, 2009

"It is a sobering experience for a book historian to see historians respond to his books"-so begins the article by Robert Darnton about the book devoted to his own work. Written by one of the most eminent historians of the book, this sentence illustrates the degree to which dialogue between historians still remains within the realm of the "virtual." He adds, however, that he "should have been prepared for the shock of non-recognition, because as a student of cultural diffusion I know that authors do not determine which of their books get read and that readers take possession of texts in ways that suit themselves," applying to himself one of the most basic presuppositions of the history of reading, as it has developed in recent years.

What exactly is "The Darnton Debate" we might ask? It does not refer to the debate that he provoked about the Internet, which generated more heat than light; it refers rather to an editorial genre that consists of paying homage to a historian's work, while at the same time weighing and extending its significance. There is, however, one major difference with the tried-and-true festschrift format, because here the author was associated with the project from the outset and takes part by closing these essays, written by a dozen academics from around the world, with his own response. This distinction, introduced into the title itself, translates into a different approach: it consists of debating-indeed, calling into question-certain basic notions and conclusions that have come from Darnton's work. This is a difficult exercise for Darnton because it obliges him to revisit some of his theses sometimes several years after their elaboration By the same token, however, it also gives him the opportunity to evaluate them in light of recent works devoted to the politics and culture of eighteenth-century France, such as those by Dena Goodman and Roger Chartier.

Some articles are "positively" inspired by Robert Darnton's works. D.F. McKenzie proposes to apply the methods of the history of the book to the book trade in England in 1689; Roland Mortier, with the allusive title "Le savant, le chat et le cataplasme," invites us to read in a Darntonian mode a few "Mémoires" devoted to Blaise Pascal and written posthumously by members of his own family; François Moureau offers us a reading of the reception by the Dutch and French press of the story of the voyage around the world made by Bougainville and his friends between 1766 and 1769; Carla Hesse raises some issues surrounding the role of women in written culture at the end of the 18th century; Jonathan Rose recalls the principal role that Robert Darnton has played in making the history of the book a veritable academic discipline in the United States, and enumerates the most recent developments in the field; finally, Dominique Varry calls for more research in the archives of the Société typographique de Neuchâtel, observing that Robert Darnton has cleared a path that leads from the history of the book to a much larger history of communication.

Other articles analyze Robert Darnton's entire oeuvre, or parts thereof. Thomas Kaiser opts for the study of public opinion and the politics of the lumières in Darnton's work, while Renato Pasta returns to Robert Darnton's theses concerning the intellectual origins of the French Revolution announced in two recent works: The Corpus of Clandestine Literature in France 1769-1789 (1995) and The Forbidden Best-sellers of Pre-revolutionary France (1995). In their discussions, these authors take account of other (highly critical) articles in this book, and directly attack Darnton's theses, to the point where the essays take on the air of a true dispute. Moreover, one is struck by the fact that the core of the "contrarians" is made up exclusively of American academics: Jeremy D. Popkin, Daniel Gordon and Elizabeth Eisenstein. All of them, with the exception of David Bell, who writes a "plea in defense," agree upon two points: Darnton's anti-intellectual approach and his "populist" attitude. The reader will judge for herself, but one can nevertheless attempt here to "debate the debate" because this is precisely the wish of its authors.

The most acerbic criticism comes from Jeremy Popkin, who reproaches Darnton for his "unique" vision of the world of Enlightenment books, publishers and writers. According to Popkin, Darnton has drawn somewhat hasty conclusions based upon an overly narrow sample of primary sources-exclusively those conserved at the archives of the Société Typographique de Neuchâtel. He also accuses him of focusing exclusively upon ephemeral brochures and pornographic literature, which has provoked a sort of "deconstruction" of the traditional canon of texts of what one might call the "mainstream Enlightenment." Elizabeth Eisenstein, for whom Darnton's bibliographic base is too exclusively connected to the corpus of banned books, takes up this criticism as well. However, isn't it the lot of every historian working on lists of books published during a given period-whatever the period-to call into question the "traditional canon" so dear to Jeremy Popkin? One can cite, in particular, works by Martyn Lyons and James Smith Allen on the French best sellers of the nineteenth century. Certainly, historical research into best sellers must be nuanced with reference to complementary studies drawing on other sources, but, in and of themselves, they greatly complicate all monolithic views of literature and its reception. Yet, the participants of the Darnton Debate also regard it as a methodological error to try to use best sellers from the years 1769-1789, to explain the links between the Enlightenment and the Revolution, as well as the ideological origins of the Revolution.

From time to time the "Darnton Debate" takes on a rather biting tone that leads the reader to pose a few questions. Does a historical work represent a research agenda? Is it even desirable that there should be such an agenda? Rather, isn't it the fruit of discoveries, analyses, trails blazed or mere false starts…in short, isn't the work of a historian also the fruit of a personal trajectory that certainly is not always rational, and which is mixed with a good dose of subjectivity? This subjectivity has something captivating that is intimately related to passion. And can one write great history without passion? From this point of view, the whole of this collection gives a glimpse of the eclecticism that guides Darnton's passion for books, for the Enlightenment and for philosophy. Darnton himself recalls that the sources one uses (manuscript archives, printed documents, etc.) are a form of discovery that, in and of themselves, pose as many questions to the historian as the historical research that has led to these sources. Such are the origins of Darnton's apparent ramblings, and possible detours, even if this breadth and curiosity has an underside that is often exposed by certain authors in this book.

However, in the critical enterprise of The Darnton Debate, the criticisms that are advanced are founded upon the most recent developments in the scholarship of the several fields represented-the history of the book, the history of mentalités and intellectual history-and yet for all of this (or perhaps because of it) they disregard any and all "historicist" perspectives on Darnton's work. Such perspectives would consist in refusing to separate the intellectual and historiographical context of the production and reception of Darnton's works at the time of their publication Such an approach would greatly clarify our reading today. Finally, certain contributing authors in this book reproach Darnton with not having pushed far enough the projects that he himself, often in collaboration with others, launched. Certainly, one can only regret this, and in this respect this book contributes quite a bit to an exploration of the different paths that remain to be explored. But one wonders if it is also in the nature of the ambiguous role of the "maître" to open these paths without necessarily following them himself.

In reality, the central issue that this debate raises is that of the exchange and debate between historians. Between the obvious and incontestable legacies of a corpus, its shortcomings and unresolved questions, there lies an open and uncertain space, in which one can detect problems associated with the compartmentalization of disciplines and the focus of individual historians. There is terribly little dialogue in this space and one wonders if in this case The Darnton Debate hasn't arrived a bit late. One cannot, in effect, but think that this controversy, in order to be edifying, should have developed in conjunction with Darnton's oeuvre. Such are the issues raised by reading a book that one finishes, however, with one regret: that of not finding mention of the surprise, the astonishment, the stimulation and the delight experienced upon reading, at the time of their first publication, The Business of Enlightenment: a Publishing History of the Encylopédie, 1775-1800 (1979) or The Great Cat Massacre and other Episodes in French Cultural History (1984), the two books which, Robert Darnton tells us, occupied the greatest time and effort in his life as a historian.