The Rhetoric
of Romanticism
Paul de ManL
Intentional Structure
of the Romantic
Image
I
THE history of Western literature,
the importance of a 2 of poetic language
does not remain constant. One could conceive of an organi-
zation of this history in terms of the relative prominence and
the changing structure of metaphor. French poetry of the six-
teenth century is obviously richer and more varied in images
than that of the seventeenth, and medieval poetry of the fi
teenth century has a different kind of imagery than that of the
thirteenth. The most recent change remote enough to be part
of history takes place toward the end of the eighteenth cen-
tury and coincides with the advent of roman Z
ment of which equivalences can be found in all European lit-
eratures, Wordsworth reproaches Pope for having abandoned.
imaginativ. L dicts “ =
orative allegorization. Meanvihile the term jnggination stead-
ily grows in importance and complexity is al mT
as in the poetic t This evolution in poetic
terminology—of which parallel instances could easily be found
in France and in Germany—corresponds to a profound change
Im. In a state gnarl2 Intentional Structure of Image
in the texture of poetic diction. The change often takes the form
of a return to.a greater concreteness, a proliferation of natural
with a dialectic that is more paradoxical than may appear at
first sight, the structure of the language becomes increasingly
metaphorical and the image—be it under the name of symbol
‘or even of myth—comes to be considered as the most promi
nent dimension of the style. This tendency is still prevalent to-
day, among poets as well 2s among critics. We find it quite
natural that theoretical studies such as, for example, those of
Gaston Bachelard in France, of Northrop Frye in America, or
of William Empson in England should take the metaphor as
their starting point for an investigation of literature in gen-
eral—an approach that would have been inconceivable for
Boileau, for Pope, and even still for Diderot.
aby is iw it ually abun-
cls the tl id sntal aml
Suity_that characterizes the poetics of romanticism. The ten-
sion between the two polarities never ceases to be problem-
atic. We shall try to illustrate the structure of this latent tension
as it appears in some selected poetic passages. ;
In a famous poem, Hélderlin speaks of a time at which
“the gods” will again be an actual presence to man:
nun aber nenni er sein Licbstes, IA
Nun, nun mussen dafur Worte, wie Blumen,
enistehn oe
(“Brot und Wein,” stanza 5)
Taken by itself, this passage is not necessarily a statement
about the image: Hélderlin merely speaks of words (“Worte”),
not of images (“Bilder”). But the lines themselves contain the
image of the flower in the simplest and most explicit of all
metaphorical structures, as a straightforward simile intro-
duced by the conjunction wie. That the words referred to are
not those of ordinary speech is clear from the verb: to origi-
Intentional Structure of Image 3
nate (“entstelin”). In everyday use words are exchanged and
Put to a variety of tasks, but they are not supposed to ori
nate anew; on the contrary, one wants them to be as well-
known, as “common” as possible, to make certain that they
obtain for us what we want to obtain. They are used as
established signs to confirm that something is recognized as
being the same as before; and re-cognition excludes pure orig-
ination. But in poetic language words are not used as signs,
not even as names, but in order to name: “Donner un sens plus
ur aux mots de la tribu’” (Mallarmé) or “erfand er fair die Dinge
eigene Namen” (Stefan George): poets know of the act of
naming—"nun aber nent er sein Liebstes”—as implying a re-
tum to the source, to the fure motion of experience at its be-
ginning
The word “entstehn” establishes another fundamental
distinction. The two terms of the simile are not said to be
identical with one another ithe word = the flower), nor analo-
gous in their general mode of being (the word is like the flower),
but specifically in the way they originate (the word originates
like the flower).' The similarity between the tw.
teside in their essence (identity), or in their appeara
(a in the manner in which both originate. And
Holderlin is not speaking of any poetic word taken at random,
but of an authentic word that fulfills its highest function in
naming being as a presence. We could infer, then, that the
fundamental intent of the poetic word is to originate in the sane
manner as what Hlderlin here calls “flowers.” The image is
essentially a kinetic process: it does not dwell in a static state
where the two terms could be separated and reunited by anal-
ysis; the first term of the simile (here, “words”) has no inde-
pendent existence, poetically speaking, prior to the metaphor-
ical statement. It originates with the statement, in the manner
suggested by the flower image, and its way of being is deter-
mined by the manner in which it originates. The metaphor re-
quires that we begin by forgetting all we have previously known
about “words”—“donner un sens plus pur aux mots de la
tribu”—and then informing the term with a dynamic existence