Romance Studies, Vol. 21 (2), July 2003 ‘UN PETIT COSTUME DE MINEUR’: CLASS AND GENDER CROSS-DRESSING IN A REWORKING OF GERMINAL FOR YOUNG READERS Kiera VACLAVIK University of Manchester If text is like fabric, then children’s literature as a whole, with its constant adaptations of adult material, can be likened to a gigantic dressing-up box. In this paper, I trace the intertextual ‘dressing-up" process at work in an adaptation of Germinal for young readers — A. de Geériolles's Sous Terre (1909) — via a detailed examination of the cross-dressing episodes within the texts. The donning of mining garb is often a central episode in mining narratives, including Germinal, and can be regarded as a version of both class- and gender-based cross-dressing. Somewhat surprisingly, in view of the subversive, destabilizing potential of cross-dressing, and of Gériolles’s young audience, the cross-dressing episodes of Germinal are incorporated into the text and images of Sous Terre. However, these also undergo a process of (at times quite subtle) alteration so that, in general terms, the more radical, subversive dimension of cross-dressing discernible in Germinal is defused in the child-orientated Sous Terre. In his definition of text as ‘un tissu de citations, issues des mille foyers de la culture’, Roland Barthes foregrounds the notion of fabric at the etymological root of the term.' ‘Theories of intertextuality place such a conception of text centre stage, emphasizing that each and every piece of ‘tissu’ is cut from a larger cloth and so encompasses a potentially infinite number of threads connecting it with earlier and later texts. Although this pertains for all texts, theorists have nevertheless been obliged to construct various scales of inter- textuality: ‘All texts’, we might say, ‘are intertextual, but some are more intertextual [...] than others’. More often than not, it has been the so-called ‘high Modernist’ works of the early twentieth century which have been accorded maximum intertextual status, with ‘intertextuality’ becoming a byword for all that is disruptive and radical.” But the same status has also been claimed for children’s literature by John Stephens who sees it as ‘radically intertextual’, existing ‘at the intersection of a number of other discourses’.* To pursue Barthes’s analogy, children’s literature as a whole can be compared to a gigantic dressing-up box, incorporating as it does a high level of reworking, adaptation and allusion. Address correspondence to Kiera Vaclavik, 27 Emest Street, Cheadle, Cheshire sk8 1eN, UK © 2003 University of Wales Swansea116 Kirra Vactavix In both fancy dress and in literature for young readers — from Fénelon’s reworking of Homer in Les Aventures de Télémaque (c. 1693-94) to the extensive literary borrowings of Philip Pullman's His Dark Materials trilogy (2001) — pieces of all kinds of existing adult material are refashioned in order to form new creations. This is not to suggest that children’s literature is merely derivative; on the contrary, many of the new ensembles demonstrate a dazzling creative originality, as is exemplified by Pullman's work. My aim is to examine the processes of dressing up discernible in a reworking of Germinal for young readers as an instance of the intertextual process of adaptation: A de Gériolles’ Sous Tere (1909). The discovery of such a text comes as something of a surprise, no matter how familiar one is with the eclectic range of works upon which children’s literature has drawn. It is not the subject-matter which generates this sense of surprise, since in the last half of the nineteenth century such celebrated writers as Verne and Malot (as well as Henty and Ballantyne in England) had all produced mining novels or at least incorporated significant mining episodes into their works for young readers.° In a broader sense, a wide-scale adoption of the subterranean can be discerned in the children’s literature of the period: the katabasis (the journey into and back from the underground), is at the heart of several children’s ‘classics’ including Verne’s Voyage aw centre de la tee (1864), Carroll's Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland (186s) and MacDonald’s The Princess and the Goblin (1872). What is surprising about the text in question is that it takes Germinal specifically as its point of departure. Produced, like the rest of the Rougon-Macquart series, according to the tenets of a Naturalism aiming to ‘tout voir’ and ‘tout dire’, Zola's mining novel is distinctly graphic, violent and explicit.’ Children are, of course, key players in the text, but the portrayal of childhood is more than a little disturbing. Zola himself questioned the suit~ ability of the text for at least some young readers in a letter to David Daustresne of December 1885: ‘Sans doute ceci n'est peut-étre pas pour des demoiselles’.* Nevertheless, Héléne Millot has already identified Augusta Latouche's L’Enjant de la Mine (1910) as a reworking of Germinal for children.’ But although she refers to an extensive corpus of mining narratives including Verne’s Les Indes noires and Malot’s Sans Famille, she seems unaware of another reworking of Germinal which appeared just the year before Latouche’s text. In 1909 Hachette published Sous Terre by A. de Gériolles as part of the ‘Bibliothéque des Ecoles et des Familles’."° As Millot’s omission suggests, both text and author are now largely forgotten despite having at one time enjoyed considerable success. Sous Terre was popular enough to remain in press until at least 1923 (the date of its third edition), and, although biographical details are extremely difficult to unearth, it has nevertheless been possible to establish that Gériolles, pseudonym of Mme Louise-Anne de Régiol, was both lauréat and offiier of the Académie Frangaise." Given that Sous Terre is now so little known, a brief synopsis of the text is necessary In what at least appears to be a standard ‘rags to riches’ narrative, we are first introduced to the hero, André, just days after his father’s death has left him orphaned and destitute. He sets off to join his uncle’s family based in a mining community, and supports himself during the journey by putting on informal concerts. Along the way, he is set upon by hoodlums, then rescued by none other than M. Martel, the owner of the very mine towards which he is heading. The hero and the heroine (Martel’s daughter Marthe) begin to get acquainted as they drive to the mine. André is given work in the mine and settlesGerminal AND GéRi0LLEs 117 in well with his family, helping them eliminate their (small) debts by winning the prize money from a game of crosse and by giving performances at the local ducasse. He proves himself a brave and able miner, rescuing his asphyxiated uncle and assisting in the rescue attempt following an éhoulement. André is consequently singled out by the engincer of the mine, Fabert, for education and promotion. The last five chapters of the text are devoted to a flood in the mine, in which André and Marthe are trapped and almost killed. They are rescued in the nick of time, and, by the close of the text, André is a successful engineer, his marriage to Marthe imminent. Very much ‘un tissu de citations’, Sous Tere contains a whole series of allusions to other texts, ftom Sans Famille to Candide." But the principal pre-text of Sous Terre is undoubtedly Zola’s Germinal, a fact which begins to emerge during the hero’s nocturnal approach towards the mine in chapter three, and which is emphatically confirmed during the remainder of the text. Key episodes, characters and even phrases from the pre-text are retained in Sous Tere, from the movement of horses into and out of the mine, to the trapping of the hero and the heroine in the last part of the text. An exhaustive list of the various elements of Germinal which are retained in Sous Tere is not possible here, but it should be noted that the preserved material is not always that which is the most neutral, innocent, or innocuous, as one might expect given Gériolles’s audience. However, the material invariably undergoes modification or transformation. Considerably shorter than its pre-text, Sous Tere has a much more restricted cast of characters, and the reduced scale of the work entails inevitable simplification and loss of detail (including much of the technical, didactic detail woven into Germinal, and prominent in other mining works for young readers). Such loss of textual detail is balanced by a proportionate increase in the importance of the seventy-five engravings (including vignettes and full-page plates) by Robert de la Neziére.'? But it is not merely minor details which are lost. Most conspicuously absent are the class hostilities and conflict so fundamental in Germinal. Hard times are undergone by the characters of Sous Tere, but these are temporary and brought about by illness or injury rather than being a more or less permanent state of affairs which is exacerbated by strike action, as in Genninal. Indeed, not only is there no mention of a strike in Sous Terre, there is no mention of unrest or dissatisfaction of any kind. Finally, Gériolles adds material to her text, such as the journey to the mine in the opening chapters and the benefactor role performed by both Martel and Fabert. This complex process of retention, transformation, simplification, expurgation and addition can be effectively traced through a consideration of dress in the text and illustrations of Germinal and Sous Terre. Costume and dress is, of course, highly significant in Zola’s auvte overall, and in Germinal it not only contributes to the naturalistic description of characters but also serves as a vehicle for incisive commentary as, for example, in Mme Hennebeau's cringe-inducing fear of dirtying her finery during her visit to the coron in IL.2. In mining narratives, including Germinal and Sous Tere, the donning of the miner's garb is often a central episode. It can be regarded as a modern form of the Virgilian golden bough, enabling as it does privileged access to the underground, especially for those who do not ‘belong’ to the subterranean realm which was viewed as a quintessentially male, working-class locale. The fact that women did work underground or even in proximity to the mines was a significant source of anguish for nineteenth-century observers."* Similarly, the mining garb was the dress of the working-class male: it was not until118 Kirra VACLAVIK considerably later that unisex clothing became acceptable even as work-wear, and the ‘weating of trousers on the part on women in or near the mines was a particular source of consternation for contemporary commentators.'° The donning of the (working-class male) mining garb can therefore be regarded as a version of cross-dressing in terms of class (when undertaken by a middle-class male), gender (when undertaken by a working-class female), and of both class and gender (when undertaken by a middle-class female). Because all three permutations are discernible in Sous Tene, their examination also affords a means of examining the class and gender dynamics operating in the text. In her wide-ranging study, Vested Interests: Cross-Dressing and Cultural Anxiety, Marjory Garber argues that all forms of cross-dressing are challenging and disruptive, questioning as they do the notion of origin(al)s."* Garber has, however, been critiqued for her inability ‘to account theoretically for distinctions among subversive, conservative or radical transvestite practices and fetishes’."” More satisfactory, therefore, is the approach of Elaine K. Ginsberg, who effectively constructs a scale of cross-dressing by differentiating ‘passing’, which problematizes notions of identity and challenges boundaries, from the much more straightforwardly decodable, more theatrical and playful ‘camp’ or ‘drag’.'® Consideration of the relevant episodes of the two texts will reveal that, broadly speaking, where the cross-dressing characters of Germinal ‘pass’, those of Sous Terre appear in ‘drag’. The gender-blurring potential of cross-dressing is foregrounded by Zola in his introduction of Germinal’s heroine: Catherine fut préte la premiére. Elle enfila sa culotte de mineur, passa la veste de toile, noua le béguin bleu autour de son chignon; et, dans ces vétements propres de lundi, elle avait l'air d'un petit homme, rien ne lui restait de son sexe, que le dandinement léger des hanches.'? As if to prove this near-total elimination of her femininity, Catherine’s fature lover, Etienne, initially takes her to be a boy (Zola 1906: 24). His misreading, which affords Catherine much amusement, is only corrected some pages later when, pressed up against her, he notices ‘les rondeurs naissantes de la gorge’ (Zola 1906: 28, 31, 35). Catherine’s dress, then, at least temporarily confounds the legibility of her identity, with touch com- pensating where sight fails. The opening images of Catherine in the 1906 illustrated edition of Germinal effectively align the experience of hero and reader/viewer, reinforcing as they do the defeminization described in the text? In the second of these (Figure 1), which shows Catherine and Etienne below ground, the fact that her face is in darkness and that both her head and body are covered mean that it is only the slightness, and not the gender, of the figure which can be made out. Given that so much nineteenth-century children’s literature demonstrates clearly defined and distinctly polarized models of gendered identity, as in the work of the Comtesse de Ségur, one might expect the scrupulous avoidance of anything that could suggest gender confusion on the part of Gériolles. However, Catherine’s cross-dressing is retained in Sous Terre. It is transferred to the hero’s cousin, Clotilde who is described wearing an outfit identical to that of Catherine, the items of dress even being listed in the same order: La premiére, Clotilde apparut, vétue, comme toutes Jes femmes employées dans les mines, de la culotte et de la veste de toile des houilleurs, les cheveux noués dans le béguin bleu.”TERMINAL AND GERIOLLES 119 re 1. Cross-dressed Catherine in the mine with Etienne (Ewvres completes illustrées d’Emile Zola: s Rougon-Macquart, Histoire naturelle et sociale d’une famille sous le Second Empire, 19 vols (Paris: arpentier, 1906), Vil) Where Catherine is seen in the process of dressing, Clotilde is presented ready-dressed, so that the nudity implicit in the act of dressing is suppressed. As in Genminal, the text grants the reader access to the ‘true’ gender identity of the character in question, but here the masculine mining dress proves no barrier to the hero's gaze. Assisted by the fact that ¢ stranger, André identifies her the crossdresser is his cousin rather than a comp! immediately A la vue de sa cousine ainsi attifée, il éclata de rire: ‘Bonjour, monsieur Clotilde; non, ce tues drdle comme ¢a’. (Gériolles 1909: 58) Whereas in Genninal it is the practitioner of cross-dressing who derives entertainment from the act of cross-dressing, here pleasure is transferred to the spectator. The irrevere ‘attifée’ also seems to implicate the narrator in this amusement. Even if the threat of defeminization is alluded to via the ‘Bonjour, monsieur Clotilde’ and thus defused. To adopt Ginsberg's definitions, where Cathe: Clotilde performs a drag act which entertains narrator, hero, and probably also reader, given the focalization of the text’s events by André. Penetration of Clotilde’s drag by the reader/viewer is not quite so straightforward since in the illustration of her in mit dress (Figure 2) she strongly resembles the male characters also present (the hero and his uncle César). But the viewing process is much less complicated than that of Germinal since , a slightly longer ‘chemise’ than that of the itis, then, made humorous ne at least briefly passes, details — an (ornamental?) scarf at the n120 Kiera VACLAVIK Figure 2, Clotilde in mining garb (left) with André (right) and his uncle (centre) (A. de Gériolles, Sous Tere (Paris: Hachette, 1909)). men forming a type of skirt, a glimpse of chignon — are deployed in the illustration which allows us to identify Clotilde as Clotilde. It might be assumed that the transfer of the details of Catherine’s dress to Clotilde rather than to Marthe, the bourgeois heroine of Sous Tere, is part of an endeavour to distance the latter from all things working-class, subterranean and masculine. Such a distancing is certainly discemible within other texts of the period: the heroines of both Verne’s Voyage au centre de la tere and Malot’s Sans Famille are kept scrupulously away from the underground locales visited by the heroes of the texts.” In the case of Marthe, her consummate middle-class femininity is firmly established in the image (Figure 3) projecting beyond the narrative that shows the hero and heroine as an elegantly attired, happily married bourgeois couple (but as frontispiece to the text it actually precedes the narrative). Furthermore, in her first appearance in the narrative and in textual images proper she is wearing conventionally feminine, middle-class dress. But, unlike the afore mentioned heroines of Verne and Malot, Marthe not only dons mining dress, but does so with zeal in her numerous trips below ground. First, visiting the mine in order to witness the arrival of a new horse, she possesses ‘une grande curiosité pour les choses de Ja mine’ and continues her visits (accompanied by a somewhat unwilling André) ‘vétue d'un petit costume de mineur qui faisait sa joie’ (Gériolles 1909: 79). Marthe’s descent into the mine constitutes both an act of tourism and of role-play; the ‘petit costume de mineur’ is no more than a theatrical get-up, a form of fancy dress, donned in order toGrrMmina AND GéRIOLLES 121 Figure 3. The adult Marthe and André in the frontispiece to the text (A. de Gériolles, Sous Tere (Paris: Hachette, 1909)). ‘jouer aux mineurs’ (Gériolles 1909: 187) (nowhere does Gériolles refer to the function of the dress or indicate that it is wom out of any consideration for safety or even cleanliness! The subversive potential of the outfit is thus defused by theatricality: Marthe’s gender and class identity remain distinct and untarnished. Because the text does not expand upon the detail of Marthe’s mining garb as it does in the case of Clotilde, the reader is even more dependent on the illustrations for its construction. In these images, Marthe could potentially be misread as a working-class male, but, as before, this is militated against by certain sartorial and corporeal signs. The captions accompanying the images, together with the inclusion of Marthe’s long hair serve to clarify her gender. In addition, the knicker- bockers she sports (Figure 4) contrast with the trousers worn not only by the male characters but also by Clotilde, so that her femininity as well as her class are made legible to the viewer beneath the drag. Finally, Gériolles follows Zola in emphasizing the changes in dress of the hero as instances of class-based cross-dressing, although with significant differences. Zola's working-class hero enters the mine wearing the thin cotton jacket and velvet trousers in which he arrives, the only addition to his dress being the mining hat which Maheu lends him (Zola 1906: 2, 28). Etienne is never illustrated wearing anything other than these rather crumpled and shabby clothes. Later in the text, his donning of ‘superior’ clothing has a dramatic and, it is implied, inordinate effect:Kiera VACLAVIK Figure 4. Marthe in her ‘petit (A. de in his smart Tere (ParisGeRMINAL AND GERIOLLES 123 Dés loss, il s‘opéra chez Etienne une transformation lente. Des instincts de coquetterie et de bien-étre, endormis dans sa pauvreté, se révélérent, lui firent acheter des vétements de drap. Ilse paya une paire de bottes fines et du coup il passa chef, tout le coron se groupa autour de lui, (Zola 1906; 164) The double meaning of the verb ‘passer’ here makes it unclear whether Etienne has actually ascended the ranks of his own class (and thus come to occupy a position on the very threshold of the bourgeoisie), or is merely seen to have done so by his peers. Just seven chapters later, we are told that only a fragment of this outfit remains: [II] était allé 4 Marchiennes engager son pantalon et sa redingote de drap, heureux de faire bouillir encore la marmite des Maheu. Seules, les bottes lui restaient, il les gardait pour avoir les pieds solides, disait-il. (Zola 1906: 239-40) Etienne’s fall from grace is thus prefigured by his vestimentary loss. But his inability to renounce this costume contributes significantly to the sense of ambivalence as to the hero’s position vis 4 vis his working-class peers: is Etienne really one of them, or somehow separate from, and superior to, them? As such, his changes in clothing fall much more clearly within Ginsberg’s definition of ‘passing’ than within that of ‘drag’ ‘The opposite is true of André in Sous Terre, where it is mining dress (rather than middle~ class clothes) which forms his ‘drag’. After he has been plucked out of the mine by Fabert, two-thirds of the way through the text, to begin his training as an engineer at the Ecole des Mines, he still goes back underground ‘[dJe temps en temps, mais seulement pour faire plaisir 2 Marthe’ (137). His donning of the mining garb is, then, a romantic gesture, and thus as capricious as that of Marthe outlined above. But this is not a straightforward case of a ‘rags to riches’ tale even though, before his death, André’s father had envisaged his son’s progress in a significantly vestimentary fashion: “Hein! Te vois-tu en grande tenue, le bicome de c6té, la tunique pincée 4 la taille, et la fine épée battant le mollet?” (Gériolles 1909: 8-9) But, as the illustrations to the text make abundantly clear, André is never really in the ‘rags’ category at all. From the beginning, he is shown sporting a natty three-piece suit with wing-collar and tie, which are identical, in fact, to the clothes he is wearing in the frontispiece to the text (Figures 3 and 5). This explains why Gériolles stresses so heavily the need for André to don a whole new set of clothes on entering the mine for the first time: in complete contrast to Etienne, he is described ‘étrennant ses vétements neufs de mineur’ (Gériolles 1909: 58). Together, Gériolles and la Neziére thus ensure that the hero's donning of mining garb is as much a form of drag as it is for the heroine. In conclusion, Sous Tere retains the cross-dressing material of Germinal but effectively removes its sting via important alterations. Gériolles's text and La Neziére’s images combine to make the cross-dresser’s class and gender identity much more straightforwardly and immediately explicit than in the pre-text. The donning of the mining garb amuses rather than confuses the spectator and/or the performer. The problematic ‘passing’ version of cross-dressing discernible in Genninal thus becomes the much more theatrical drag of Sous Tene. The unavoidable implication of the reworking is that despite the explicit outlining of the dangers and risks involved, mining is not a serious, life-threatening and dismal pursuit, but an amusing form of play. Where dress in Germinal serves to enhance realism, in Sous Tere it thus distances reality, fulfilling what Millot refers to as a ‘fonction124 Kiera VACLAVIK déréalisante’> Sous Tene serves, therefore, as a useful reminder that neither cross-dressing nor intertextuality are invariable guarantors of the radical or the subversive, but can be put to ends very different from those envisaged by Garber and many theorists of inter~ textuality. To return to John Stephens's description of children’s literature, a text like Sous Terre can be ‘radically intertextual’ without itself being radical. By clothing Germinal for a different kind of audience, A. de Gériolles thus gives it a whole new (out)look. * My emphasis. Roland Barthes, ‘La mort de lauteur’, in Le Bruissement de la langue: Essais critiques 1V (Paris: Editions du Seuil, 1984), pp. 61-67 (p. 63) ? Andrew D. Weiner, ‘Sidney/Spenser/Shakespeare: Influence/Intertext/Intention’, in Influence and Intertextuaity in Literary History, ed. by Jay Clayton and Eric Rothstein (Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1991), pp. 245-89 (p. 246) ® See, for example, Graham Allen who, in his discussion of Julia Kristeva, states that; ‘Intertextuality encompasses that aspect of literary and other kinds of texts which struggles against and subverts reason, the belief in the unity of meaning or of the human subject, and which is therefore subversive to all ideas of the logical and the unquestionable.’ Allen, Infertextuality (London/New York: Routledge, 2000), P. 45. “John Stephens, Language and Ideology in Children’s Fiction (London/New York: Longman, 1992), p. 86. "In the ‘Acknowledgments’ of The Amber Spyglass (London: Scholastic, 2001), Pullman states that, ‘Thave stolen ideas from every book I have ever read. My principle in researching for a novel is “Read like a butterfly, write like a bee", and if this story contains any honey it is surely because of the quality of the nectar I found in the work of others’ (p. 549). Originally destined for young readers, Pullman's trilogy has nevertheless acquired an extensive adult readership. Conversely, Les Aventures de Télémague is frequently regarded today as a work of political theory, despite the fact that it was written specifically for a particular child (the duc de Bourgogne, grandson of Louis XIV), and read, furthermore, throughout the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries by generations of children in an educational context. Accordingly, Francois Caradec, Marie-Thértse Latzarus, Mare Soriano and Jean de Trigon all include the text in their works on French children’s literature. Jules Verne, Les Indes noires (1877); Hector Malot, Sans Famille (1878); R. M. Ballantyne, Deep Down: A Tia of the Comish Mines (1869); G. A. Henty, Facing Death: or the Hero of the Vaughan Pit: a Tale of the Coal Mines ... (1882), 7 Discours au banquet de I’Association générale des étudiants’, in CEwvres Completes, ed. by Henri Mitterand, 15 vols (Paris: Cercle du Livre Précieux, 1969), xm, 677-83 (p. 678). © Emile Zola: Conespondance, ed. by B. H. Bakker, 10 vols (Montreal: Presses de I’ Université de Montréal, 1985), V. 347-48 (Pp. 347)- * Helene Millot, ‘Un Genninal travesti: L’Enfant de la mine d’ Augusta Latouche’, in Le Populaire d retrowver, ed. by Antoine Court (Saint-Etienne: Publications de l'Université de Saint-Etienne, 1995), pp. 65-85. '° Further reworkings of Germinal for young readers may well exist but have not, to my knowledge, been identified. “Bom Louise-Anne Labie de Coquet in Agen on 11 June 1848, she was married to M. de Régiol, consul d’Espagne, with whom she travelled widely in the Far East. A member of the Société des Gens de Lettres (the president of which, between 1891 and 1896, was none other than Emile Zola), she was also an active and committed member of the Société Protectre des Animaux. Gériolles wrote several animal stories for children (such as Histoire d’un petit grillon; Pauvre Flouc! (Paris: Delagrave, 1902) and Histoire de Moustache (Paris: Delagrave, 1903) — the dog referred to in passing in Sous Tere). It therefore seems possible that it was at least in part Zola’s sensitive and tragic portrayal of the mining horses Bataille and ‘Trompette, as well as the rabbit Pologne, which drew Gériolles to Germinal; certainly, animals are represented throughout Sous Tere where animal welfare is a prime concern. Like Malot's hero Rémi, the hero of Sous Terre supports himself by giving shows with his performing, dog; once the hero's family have been plucked out of the mine and given a shop by the engineer Fabert, the narrator comments that: ‘Tout allait donc pour le mieux dans le meilleur des corons possibles’ (p. 167). ‘The only really significant information that has come to light about this artist is that he also provided the illustrations for a 1926 edition of La Fontaine's Fables.GERMINAL AND GERIOLLES 125 Anne McClintock, Imperial Leather: Race, Gender and Sexuality in the Colonial Contest (New York/ London: Routledge, 1995), pp. 114~18. ° McClintock, p. 117. “ Marjorie Garber, Vested Interesis: Cross-Dressing and Cultural Anxiety (London: Penguin, 1993). ” McClintock, p. 175. Elaine K. Ginsberg (ed.), Passing and the Fictions of Identity (Durbam/London: Duke University Press, 1996). The claira for the radical nature of all cross-dressing in theory, but the need for degrees of cross- dressing in practice is strikingly similar to the theory and practice of intertextuality outlined above. CBuones completes illustrées d’Emile Zola: Les Rougon-Macquart, Histoire naturelle et sociale d’une famille sous le Second Enipire, 19 vols (Paris: Charpentier, 1906), Vit, 15 * A great deal more is known about this illustrator: Jules-Descartes Ferat (1829-2) studied under Cogniet and exhibited at the Paris Salon between 1857 and 1871. As well as illustrating popular editions of works by Zola (such as the one under consideration here), d’Ennery and Maquet, he also illustrated works by Béranger, Hugo, Mayne-Reid, Sandeau and Verne *" A de Gériolles, Sous Tene (Paris: Hachette, 1906), p. 58. George Sand’s La Fée Poussiére (1875) is a notable exception in which both katabatic quester and guide are female. ® Millot, p. 75.Copyright © 2003 EBSCO Publishing