CHAPTER EIGHT:SUBJECTIVITY IN VISUAL

PERCEPTION

VIII.1 The Inherent Subjectivity of Perception:

An increasing bulk of research in cognitive science and psychology has contributed to a
potentially better understanding of the textual strategies adopted in narrative discourse and
particularly in literary genres (such as the novels and short stories). It is argued here that some
findings in the field of perception can be fruitfully adapted and drawn upon for the detection of
world views, prejudices, value judgments and subjective attitudes.
It is an established view in modern psychology that perception is far from being a simple
operation na‹vely construed as a direct response to an objective physical stimulus. The currently
accepted alternative view conceives of perception as a complex process calling into play extra but
nonetheless vital factors pertaining to both the personal involvement of the perceiver and the culture
he belongs to. In this, as early as 1938, Stout held the view that:
Sensations, though objective in nature, are not in themselves complete and self-subsistent
objects. So far as we can discover it is an essential condition of apprehending them as objects at all
that something else, which is not immediately experienced should be apprehended in connexion
with them. All recognition of a sensation as of a certain kind and all apprehension of it as
continuing to be of the same nature or as changing in nature at different moments, involves this
reference beyond immediate experience. (p.124, my italics)
It is immaterial for the present purposes of the argument to embark on a debate to determine
whether sensations do or do not have any objective existence. What the quotation indicates clearly
however is the perceiver's having to draw on factors beyond immediate experience. Perceptions are
held to be inextricably bound with the perceiver's personal interpretations. It is precisely this added
subjective extra which can be fruitfully explored and capitalized upon as an indicator of point of
view.
Perception is more than mere sensitivity to stimulation. Something is added, but what is it
that the perceiver adds to the mere response to a stimulus? Is the addition conscious or automatic?
Is it structured or effected at random? Does the perceiver perceive separate unconnected phenomena
or does he establish connections, matchings and classifications among them? If connections are
made, what are the criteria (expectations, predispositions, mind-styles etc...) according to which
they are effected? Is there a clear-cut divide between perception and categorisation?
Ulric Neisser seems to argue (1987:4) that they are different. However, coming under fire
from McCauley (in the same volume), who seriously questions the basis of this distinction and
insists that perception cannot be without categories, nor can categories be without cognitive models,
Neisser is forced to admit that:
Though separate in principle, perception and conceptualisation are often tightly intertwined.
This is especially true at the basic level, where we both see directly what things are and have
theories that tell us how they should be classified. (p4)
This admission is further enhanced by his constant reference to Gibson's notion of "affordance"
[i.e. the attributes which are taken into account in the identification of something but which are
missing in the immediate act of perception]. It is clear that the perceiver goes beyond the
immediate observable experience to bring to bear other non-present factors. Thus, he argues (p17)
that children have some developmental constantly readjusted "theory" about the nature of animals
that transcends what they can see. These theories about the world are referred to as (ICMs), that is,
"idealized cognitive models" (p19).
The epistemology of science provides yet another insight into the mediation of world views
on observation. In a seminal article, Delia expounds the "constructivist" philosophy of science; she
rejects the logical empiricist view of "direct, theory-free" observation of reality, and proceeds to
argue for the need to realize that observations are theory-laden. She quotes (1977:68) Bruce Aune
(1967:82) as saying:
But experience...always requires interpretation; and it is always some conceptual scheme,
however rudimentary, and not virgin reality, that supplies the criteria by which an interpretation of
experience is to be appraised.
What we perceive is always coloured by interpretation and cannot be derived merely from the
sensations given by our sense-organs (Ewing, 1951). We are always influenced by previous
experience. Language makes such colourings even more pronounced since it imposes cultural grids
on the language user (Lakoff and Johnson 1980; Lakoff 1986, 1987; Reddy, 1979). Lakoff (1986,
ch18) has shown how languages grammaticize different ways of looking at the world so that their
adoption becomes automatic and unconscious. Similarly, Reddy (1979), through his examination of
the "conduit metaphor" in English, has demonstrated how a given language imposes on its users
certain ways of categorizing experience.
These findings have potentially fruitful implications for the analysis of narratives. First,
since perception necessarily presupposes a perceiver, a reported act of perception is an indicator of
a presence (that of the perceiver). Second, perception can only take place both in space and time.
There is a possibility for the analyst to draw on the reported act of perception as a clue indicating
the perceiver's spatio-temporal location. Thus, reported acts of perception can throw light on the
deictic anchorage of the perceiver in terms of person, space and time as defined with respect to the
perceiver in his capacity as deictic centre (Fillmore, 1972; Levinson, 1983) (see especially localism
in chapters three and four below). Third, the examination of the subjective extra anchors the
perceiver attitudinally (modally or affectively), that is, all the subjective elements (idiosyncrasies,
prejudices, involvements, emotions, evaluations...) are defined with respect to the perceiver's
sentient centre, to use a term of Lotman's (1975). Fourth, reports involving acts of perception are
generally coreferential with modal auxiliaries or adverbs, qualifiers, degrees of certitude,
probability or possibility, degrees of commitment, value judgments and any other linguistic devices
indicating attitude. This is not surprising since they originate from the same underlying mechanism,
namely the presence of a latent subjective and motivated consciousness behind them.

VIII.2 Visual Perception as an Indicator of Point of View

By and large, vision is held to be one of the most important perceptual systems that have
been thoroughly investigated in current research on perception. Among the pioneering research in
this field the work of James Gibson seems to be particularly influential. As a perceptual system,
visual perception depends first and foremost on the presence of an observer interacting with the
environment. On this presence Gibson is categorical. After insisting on the distinction between a
stimulus and its source (the object emanating it), Gibson (1966:28-29) goes on to say with insight:
A further distinction has been made between a stimulus proper and the field of potential
stimulation emanating from the source. A field of reflected illumination around an object, a field of
air vibration from an event, and a field of chemical diffusion from a substance, all carry stimulus
information. But whether the stimulus is effective or not depends on the presence of an observer,
his receptive equipment, and his acts of looking, listening, or sniffing. (italics mine)
The effective presence of an observer (whether made explicit or not) is a fundamental condition
for the very possibility of an act of perception. Whenever there is an act of perception, it inevitably
presupposes a perceiver. Hence, it is a presence indicator, and as such, it serves as a useful clue
helping and constraining the reader's reconstruction of the point of view(s) informing the text.
Visual perception not only presupposes the presence of an observer, but it also presupposes
this observer's interaction with and knowledge about the surrounding environment. This interactive
aspect has been emphasized by many researchers like Rosinski (1977:2) who argues forcefully:
Perception is not simply what an individual sees or how an individual responds; it is one
mechanism that provides the individual with knowledge about the world. Since perception is the
acquisition and utilisation of knowledge about the world, it involves an active interaction with the
environment. (italics mine)
This active interaction involves two poles, namely the observer (as a being present here and
now) and the environment (including the particular object of perception). It ensues that there are
three different but complementary analytic focal points to be pursued in tackling an act of
perception. One operation consists of locating the perceived object spatio-temporally with respect
to the space that the observer occupies. Another direction would be to explore the perceiver's
relative ability to identify this object of perception. A third operation consists of assessing the
degree of the perceiver's consciousness of the relevance of the incidence of that object of perception
and how it is expected to affect him. In the process of perceiving a source of stimulation the
observer evaluates the object of perception and invests the act of perception with an affective
(attitudinal) charge. The complexity of this process stems from the fact that deictic anchorage and
affective investment are two facets of the same coin, differently laid out, but closely interdependent
so that none of which can possibly exist without presupposing the other.
First, from a spatio-temporal point of view, the distance which separates the observer from
the perceived object is a determining factor in ascertaining the position of the object of perception
as defined against the observer's I/here/now. In this respect, Rosinski (1977:54) argues:
The relative position of an object as seen by the eyes is directly related to the distance of that
object from the observer.
One important variable is taken into account, namely whether either of these poles (i.e. the
observer and the object of perception) is in motion. Accordingly, many different visual effects can
be obtained depending on who or what is moving in which direction at what rate and covering what
distance.
For instance, if the object of perception is at a standstill whilst the observer only moves his
head, a phenomenon called "motion parallax" is obtained which is closely related to the distance
separating the object of perception from the observer. The idea is that objects closer to the observer
in the visual field appear to move more rapidly than those at a greater distance:
As an observer moves his head, the objects in the array projected to the eye change their
positions and appear to move. The amount of this movement is inversely proportional to the
distance between an observer and an object. (Rosinski, 1977:54)
If, on the other hand, the observer shifts position and performs the act of visual perception on
the move, then other objects in the world will appear to move leading to changes in perspective
which are known as "motion perspective" (Rosinski, 1977:56). The notion of perspective refers to
the perception of the relationship between objects in view of their relative position in the visual
field as seen by and with respect to the person of the observer present here and now.
Another important factor in the perception of distance is the notion of texture gradient. To
quote Evans (1978:376):
the further away a visual pattern is from the observer, the denser or more tightly packed its
elements appear to be.
All these variables lead to a a variety of combinations which are determined by the distance
between the observer and the object of perception. Thus visual perception depends first and
foremost on the presence of a perceptual centre defined in terms of person (the observer), space
(here), and time (now) engaging in an interaction with the environment (including the object of
perception). Thus, this perceptual centre is a deictically anchored centre acting as an axis of
reference so that all other spatial locations are visually perceived to be located at their respective
positions according to the central criterion of their degree of distance from or nearness to this axis.
Objects are perceived either as tending to be oriented towards (drawing near to) this centre, or
moving away from it. These degrees of remoteness or nearness underlie the very act of locating
things (chapter three), which is inevitably part and parcel of the act of visual perception.
The degree of distance is a vital clue in the reader's reconstruct-ion from textual data of the
observer's presence and location with respect to other components of the setting. It is indispensable
for the reader's deictic contextualisation of the narrative piece under study (Margolin 1984).
Special attention will be therefore given to textual indicators of the observer's perception of
distance. Besides, such information is potentially revealing of the observer's probable age,
perceptual and mental fitness, and perhaps, it can provide hints as to his emotional state (how the
observer responds or reacts to that distance).
Another determining factor in the visual act of perception is the degree of exposure to light.
As Rosinski (1977:97) has noted:
Exposure to a lighted environment is a necessary condition for the physical maturation and
continued function of the visual system.
Variations in the degree of visibility (degrees of brightness or dimness, position and distance of
the source of light, nature or characteristics of this light source, etc...) directly affect the perception
of objects and lead to different visual effects. In literary narratives and in cinematic oeuvres,
lighting arrangements have been developed to such a degree of sophistication that remarkable visual
effects have been created.
It is interesting to examine the degree to which the perception of objects in the text is
affected by the lighting arrangements. For instance, a reported state of complete darkness does not
necessarily mean the absence of an act of perceiving (at least an effort to perceive) which would
have entailed the absence of a perceiver. In fact it implies the perceiver's relative inability (due
either to utter blindness, or to eyesight problems, or simply to lack of adequate and sufficient light).
However, this relative inability to see in the dark necessarily presupposes first the observer's
presence and second his active attempt to see.
Another useful direction for analysis is the assessment of the perceiver's reaction (on the
affective plain) to this inability to see in the dark. Is this state of affairs seen as convenient or
inconvenient, propitious or inauspicious? Does it further the observer's ends or rather present an
obstacle (a setback)? What kind of bearing does it have on the prospective action? How does it
affect the observer's mood and emotional state?
Similarly, all the other shades of brightness on the spectrum are potentially revealing in that
they directly affect the observer. To what extent is the observer able to see and identify objects in
the confines and limits of the available lighting situation? To what extent is the observer set on
seeing, and motivated (determined) to identify these objects (construed here in their broad meaning
encompassing both animate and inanimate entities and registered actions or movements)? What is
the degree of their relevance to the observer?
In the case where the observer is a participant in the scene, how does he respond under those
particular circumstances to the degree of lighting available? Does he seek to be seen by other
protagonists, or would he rather hide? These considerations are very revealing since they tend to
warrant the use of many modal or estrangement devices (modal auxiliaries and adverbs, modal uses
of the past tense, etc...) on the linguistic surface and therefore to expose the observer's attitudes and
latent biasses.
In drawing upon the lighting arrangements the reader can arrive at many interesting
findings. The relationship between the source of light and the object of perception is inevitably
affected by distance and is therefore helpful in the deictic contextualisation of the passage. It is also
helpful in assigning motivations to the observer for being where he is under those particular
circumstances. As such, the state of light as a determining factor in visual perception is a useful
clue.
Visual perception involves the perception of patterns since it draws on and feeds back to the
observer's knowledge about the world. Pattern perception is a fundamental operation of a high
degree of analogies, classifications, generics, and so on. It is the outcome of an active process of
categorisation on the part of the observer and not merely a given characteristic inherent in the object
of perception. The basic underlying principle of pattern perception is highlighted by Rosinski
(1977:144) who argues:
The ability to perceive patterns in a meaningful way requires that the individual first be able to
make a set of comparisons among patterns as in discrimination or between a pattern and some
memory representation as in recognition. Then an assignment to some conceptual category can be
made through identification. (italics mine)
It is interesting to see what patterns the observer actually assigns to the objects of his
perception. The operations italicized in the quote are in fact made by an individual observer whose
predilections are doubly determined (both idiosyncratically and culturally). The final product (the
outcome of these complex operations) is inevitably loaded with affective and ideological charges.
These subjective loads can be extracted and reconstructed by the reader from the very categories,
epithets, evaluations and value judgments attributed to the objects of perception.
 Besides, in an act of visual perception, the above-mentioned factors occur at the same time
and are therefore inextricable. What is an apparently straightforward act of visual perception turns
out to be a heterogeneous product resulting from a heavily mediated perceiving process (influenced
by all the spatio-temporal, affective and ideological factors mentioned above). This heterogeneity
should be emphasized as a fundamental theoretical premise allowing for acts of visual perception to
be considered as textual indicators of point of view.
The reader's exploration of the three suggested directions, namely, spatio-temporal
coordinates, lighting arrangements and categorisation processes, cumulatively builds up an overall
view which considerably narrows down the possibilities as to who is seeing what under which
conditions and for what purposes?

VIII.3 Case Study: Visual perception in Robbe-Grillet's Jealousy:

Three passages relating to some observer's perception of A... and Frank's respective
positions and movements in the darkness of the veranda are selected. Although these passages
might seem at first sight to have a high degree of similarity, if not repetition, they do in fact provide
different stages of the speaker's awareness of what exactly happened in the scene.. It will be shown
that their order of occurrence in the novel reveals a process of discovery so that the speaker seems
to be more knowledgeable about the particulars of the scene in the third passage than he seems to be
in the first one.
1. First Passage:
(1) Although it is quite dark now, she orders the boy not to bring out the lamps which - she says
- attract mosquitoes (2). In the complete darkness, only the paler spots formed by a dress, a white
shirt, a hand, two hands, soon four hands (the eyes getting used to the darkness) can be even
guessed at.#(3) No one speaks. (4) Nothing moves. (5) The four hands are lined up parallel to the
wall of the house. (6) On the other side of the balustrade, toward the hillside, there is only the
starless sky and the deafening racket of the crickets. (p142)
2. Second Passage:
(1) A...'s arms, a little less distinct than her neighbour's because of the colour - though light - of
the material of her dress, are also lying on the elbow-rests of her chair. (2) The four hands are lying
in a row, motionless. (3) The space between A...'s left hand and Franck's right hand is
approximately two inches. (p16)
3. Third Passage:
His white shirt makes a paler spot in the darkness, against the wall of the house.#In order not to
risk spilling the contents in the darkness, A... has come as close as possible to Franck's armchair,
carefully holding his glass in her right hand. She rests her other hand on the arm of his chair and
leans toward him, so close that their heads touch. He murmurs a few words, probably thanking her.
But the words are drowned out by the deafening racket of the crickets that rises on all sides. (p36-
37)
The aim of the following discussion is to provide various analytic focal points which will
substantiate the main argument that, as far as human being are concerned (but see the conclusion), a
perceptual centre which is not deictically and cognitively anchored is an impossibility. Robbe-
Grillet's attempt at total disengagement in perception will be shown to have significantly failed.
The perceptual centre in the three passages is spatio-temporally located with respect to the
participants in the story and is affectively involved.
VIII.3.1 Sensitivity to light:
The observer's interaction with the available lighting arrangements is pregnant with useful
clues indicating the presence of a latent perceptual centre. For one to state directly that it is "quite
dark" (1) and that there is "complete darkness" (2) or indirectly that the sky is "starless" (6) is
tantamount to saying something to the effect that "in view of the lack of available light, I, the
observer present here and now am totally unable to see anything". When a state of complete
darkness is reported, it does not imply the absence of an act of perception which would entail the
absence of an observer. It simply means the actual presence of an observer who under those
particular circumstances happens to be unable to see anything.
In addition, informing the reader of a state of darkness is not exactly the same as noticing
the absence of stars in "starless" (6). Noticing that X is missing presupposes some previous
expectation or wish to find it there. It reveals the frustration of that assumed expectation or wish.
The observer will be shown to express serious reservations as to A...'s sincerity in her failure to
bring the lamp and distances himself from her excuse. The point is that the observer bitterly resents
this lack of light. Similarly, the stars metonymically stand for light and the fact that their absence is
noticed reveals the observer's resentment. Two questions are in line here: why should the observer
wish to have better lighting facilities? How does the presence or absence of adequate and sufficient
light affect (or have a bearing on) this observer?
Besides, given the state of complete darkness and that the observer is exposed to it, whose
"eyes" are they which are "getting used to it" (2)? Who is guessing, that is, striving hard to see
through the darkness, and for what reasons? Normally for the eyes to manage to adapt to darkness,
the perceiver has first to be exposed to it for a sufficient timespan (some experience of darkness is
necessary) and second he has to put some extra effort to see through at close range. It ensues that
these eyes must belong to an observer who is a participant in the narrated story and who is situated
at close proximity to A... and Franck, that is, somewhere on the veranda. This is corroborated by
the implied there in "the other side of the balustrade, toward the hill side" (6). There can only be
defined with respect to here [the location where the observer functioning as deictic centre conceives
of himself as not present] (chapter three). Therefore, the perceptual centre's here must be on the
near side of the balustrade, that is, on the veranda (see below).
In an unfavourable lighting situation such as "darkness", some observer is allegedly able to
perceive a "white shirt". It has been demonstrated in current research on perception (cf for instance
Lakoff, 1986) that the perception of colours is heavily dependent on the presence of sufficient light.
Therefore given the declared absence of this necessary condition (since it was dark), the allegation
of the perception of a white shirt cannot be exactly true unless the observer invests this whiteness in
an item he does not in fact see as such at that particular moment under those particular
circumstances. This projection of colour stems from a prior knowledge of the perceived object.
The observer must be on familiar terms with the person wearing the white shirt.
Similarly, a person moving in the darkness is unhesitatingly identified as "A..." and
perceived to be moving towards another person also automatically identified as "Franck". It might
be conceded that the two silhouettes that the observer must have perceived are easily identifiable as
human beings. But a stranger or a neutral camera (standing for the eyes of somebody who does not
know the other two characters) could not have told these characters' names and particularly their
Christian names. For the observer to know their identity without any apparent difficulty, he must
have known beforehand (before the advent of darkness) who these people are. For him to call them
by their Christian names adds yet another dimension since it reveals a strong degree of familiarity
(chapter two).
Despite the reported state of complete darkness the observer's adaptation and extra efforts do
enable him to discern some identifiable shapes. The problem is to determine which items could
have been directly perceived as the very things they are reported to be and which items must have
required the observer's reliance on "affordances" (Gibson, 1966)? Normally, in the absence of
sufficient light, the eyes can physically see nothing more than "paler spots" (2). The observer, if
relying only on mere response to light, should not in principle have been able to tell the nature and
characteristics of the items forming these spots. If however the perceiver manages to tell or at least
guess what these items are, despite the physical limitations, as is the case here, then two
possibilities emerge. Either he is omniscient and this hypothesis is implausible since the limitations
of the observer have already been set into relief; or else, and this is more plausible, the observer is
familiar with these objects of perception. It transpires then that the observer is a participant in the
story, strategically located close to A... and Franck, affectively involved (unhappy with the
limitations imposed on him by the lack of sufficient light), and familiar with the people under
observation.
The other set of clues are more subtle since some stylistic devices are used to parody the
very process of perceiving these pale spots. The key device is the manipulation of the order of
succession of these objects of perception as they allegedly appear to the eyes. There is an
enumerative short-lived inventory of high-speed snapshots which are stylistically emulated by the
sequencing of monosyllabic words preceded each by the indefinite article in the fashion of a
nomenclature (chapter six). This impression of speed and of relative easiness in naming the objects
of perception is surprising in view of the complete darkness which, in principle, makes any act of
visual perception very difficult, if not futile. No one but somebody who knows exactly beforehand
what he is looking for can achieve this virtually impossible task. Apart from the familiarity
suggested above, a motivational dimension has to be added here. The observer does not apprehend
reality from a virgin disinterested standpoint. He knows exactly what to look for and where to find
it.
VIII.3.2 The inferred viewing position of the observer:1
It remains to be seen where exactly the observer is situated with respect to the other two
characters. Two sets of clues are helpful in clarifying these spatio-temporal coordinates. First,
where can the observer possibly be in order for him to be able to say that "the four hands are lined
up parallel to the wall of the house" (5)? Two people sitting on a veranda will normally turn their
back to the wall and face the garden so much so that the possibility of their being seen from behind
or of an observer in that position being able to perceive the lined up hands is ruled out. Neither can
a frontal viewing point be the case, and that for three good reasons. One is that the observer would
not have seen the hands as forming a line parallel to the wall. For him to perceive that parallelism
and the trajectory of a line, he would have to be located on the same line, that is, by the side of the
other two characters with his back to the wall and looking sideways. The other reason is that it
simply is highly improbable for a third party on a veranda in a colonial banana-growing plantation
to block the view of the others and spoil one's own view by facing the wall. The third reason is that
the observer is set on secretly watching the behaviour of the other two characters (by spying on
them). The last thing such an observer would want is for his plans to be exposed. Therefore, of all
the places, he will avoid the frontal one because it would subject him to their field of vision.
Thus the angular (viewing) constraints imposed by the observer's spatial location determine
the order of appearance of the perceived items. The first person next to the observer must be A...
and then comes Franck (because the dress is seen before the white shirt). Moreover, this
sequencing indirectly reveals both the position of the observer and the idea of a line parallel to the
wall. The shift from one hand to two to four, seen in their successive order implies the perception
of an imagined line of hands (the illusion of a line is conveyed by the succession). The sequencing
also reveals the logical order of appearance of these hands for someone situated somewhere down
the same line, that is, next to A...
The fact that the dress is mentioned in the first passage before the white shirt in their order
of succession has been seized upon as an indicator of the observer's position next to A... (since
Franck is seen to be further away from the deictic centre). In the second passage, this position is
clarified as A...'s right-hand-side. It cannot be otherwise. If A... is turning her back to the wall and
looking ahead at the hillside, and if Franck is sitting in the same posture next to her such that her
left hand is close to his right hand, then it follows that he must be sitting on her left. Now it has
already been argued that for the observer to perceive a row of hands, he has to be situated on either
side of the other two characters, that is on a given point on the same line. The two possible
locations are in principle either on Franck's left (since A... occupies the place on his right) or A...'s
right (since Franck occupies the place on her left). But as transpires from the first passage, the
observer would have seen the white shirt first before A...'s dress if he had been sitting on Franck's
left-hand-side. Therefore, the only remaining possibility is for the observer to be sitting next to A...
on her right.
VIII.3.3 Narrowed focus:
An interesting dimension of these successive snapshots is the conscious sense of direction in
the orientation of the eyes'act of perception. The eyes do not simply see objects at random without
any order of priority. The sequencing of these monosyllabic words is indeed revealing both
spatially (see above) and affectively. The zooming of the camera (the focus of the observer's eyes)
centering on the hands is not innocent. It presupposes some prior purpose (such as to confirm an
expectation or a suspicion). This sense of purpose adds to the general impression already evoked
by the observer's striving to see through darkness, his negative reaction to the lack of sufficient
light, and the recourse to guessing. This special highly motivated interest in making successful acts
of visual perception degenerates into an all-absorbing obsession.
The second passage intensifies the observer's all-encompassing interest in monitoring as
precisely as possible A...'s and Franck's respective positions and movements. The focus is
narrowed down to concentrate on some specific body organs (namely the potentially active arms
and hands). The watch is closer than ever; for despite the unfavourable viewing point (with the lack
of sufficient light and the difficult position of the observer on A...'s right since he is obliged to look
sideways or at best to turn his head carefully so as not to be noticed), it is significant that the
observer should be able to measure such a tiny distance as that between A...'s left hand and Franck's
right hand in such precision "approximately two inches". Could he really under such conditions
have perceived that reported distance or was there an element of projected conjecture as indicated
by "approximately"? What is the amount of both the physical and mental processing effort it must
have required of him to arrive at such a startling conclusion? Why should the observer go to so
many lengths to monitor in such precise terms the position of the hands? Why concentrate on the
hands in the first place? Why insist that A...'s arms are lying on the elbowrests of her chair (and by
inference not somewhere else)?
The measuring of the distance between A... and Franck is very significant and is emphasized
twice in "as close as possible" and "so close that their heads touch". In both references to this
proximity the syntactic patterning intensifies the degree of closeness. The adverb "so" is followed
by the adjective "close" and a correlative clause introduced by "that" to set into relief the speaker's
awareness of the extent to which he perceives the closeness to be. Despite this awareness there is a
deliberate attempt on the part of the observer to drop any attribution of agentivity to the two persons
(Halliday 1971, Fowler 1981, 1986, Ikegami 1984). The two heads simply touch as an extension of
the identity of closeness. It is meant to be an arbitrary incident of this closeness and not a deliberate
premeditated action. Yet it remains to be determined what kind of "touch" this is?
The narrowed focus on the position of the hands is not motive-free. The stronger the
preoccupation the greater the relevance to the observer. What is then the relevance of this object of
perception so as to warrant the full burden of this concentrated focus? Some elements of an anxious
obsession have already emerged. The observer is probably haunted by a latent fear or suspicion.
This obsession invests the very act of perception and implants a distinct subjective colouring on it.
Jealousy seems to be a plausible cause for the observer's paranoiac apprehensions about what A...
and Franck are up to.
This obsession is more apparent in the third passage where some less plausible explanations
are put forward to counteract what, following the course of events, would be the insinuated
conclusion that both observer and reader are invited to reach. It will be argued that the observer,
although knowing fully well the real significance of what is going on, clings desperately to some
less plausible, if not absurd guesses which would get round the latent suspicion he does not want to
come to terms with.
VIII.3.4 Evaluative depiction of the scene:
The speaker's familiarity with the scene and the d‚locut‚s has already been alluded to in the
course of the discussion of the observer's close spatial proximity and ability to perceive in the dark.
Here his prior knowledge is further presupposed in the details assigned to the observed items. Thus
the observer is apparently able to tell that Franck is sitting on an "armchair", that A... is "holding his
glass in her right hand", that "she rests her other hand on the arm of his chair", etc... The manner of
A...'s holding of the glass is evaluated as careful. It is difficult to speculate on what the observer
could have perceived and what he has added as affordances. But it is sufficient to notice that the
two are inseparable and that the care signalled by "carefully" can only be invested by the observer
who infers it from the slowness of A...'s movement at that particular moment and perhaps by
drawing on his stored knowledge of A...'s tendency to be delicate in her actions.
The touching of the two heads does not specify what could have taken place between a
woman "A..." and a man "Franck " in the darkness. The ambiguity forces the reader (as it must
have forced the observer) to fill in the gap and imagine the sort of action that would probably have
taken place in the course of that touch. Different people will fill in different slots depending on
their attitude towards the two characters and their consequent expectations. For instance, a jealous
husband would tend to imagine or suspect some sort of insidious love-making (kisses and other
similar actions) which would syncronize with the darkness. But the scene remains suggestively
ambiguous and one cannot be absolutely sure what really happened between A... and Franck.
The observer stops short of describing the particulars of the scene for two possible reasons.
The observer, located on the same line as A... and Franck (passages 1 and 2) could only have seen
A...'s silhouette as she turns her back to him. It is very dubious to ascertain whether or not he has
actually perceived the two heads as touching or whether the touch has been simply projected by the
observer. Another plausible hypothesis would be that the observer does not want to admit the
reality of what he has seen or at least has felt relatively sure of rightly guessing.
In addition to this visual act, a complementary auditory stimulus is provided: "he murmurs a
few words". To perceive a sound as a murmur is doubly revealing. On the one hand it bespeaks the
observer's inability to make out the precise meaning of the uttered words (failure to decode the
message). On the other hand it implies that there is a conscious attempt on the part of A... and
Franck to keep the volume down, a desire to evade attention and to insulate themselves from the
intruding ears of a third person. If the speaker is a jealous husband, he could be plausibly thought
to suspect some declaration of love, or some secret scheming behind his back. The ambiguity on
the auditory level adds up to the ambiguity already detected on the visual level to build up a strong
impression of the observer's unease and anguish. There is a latent suspicion of some dishonest
plotting insidiously performed in the darkness. The observer's apparent failure to decode the
message presupposes a prior desire if not active effort on his part to make sense of it. This
frustrated desire informs the observer's negative response to "the deafening racket of the crickets".
Both the lighting and the acoustic situations are perceived to be unfavourable.
The presupposition of prior expectations shaping the act of perception is particularly felt in
reporting absences as in (3) "no one speaks" and in (4) "nothing moves". One only notices the
absence of what one is looking for. Therefore, the observer must have been expecting some
auditory and visual stimulation of a particular kind (which is definite in his mind). It ensues that the
negation of the occurrence of a stimulus is both an indicator of the observer's presence and the
signalling of his frustrated expectations. The question is what sort of words or actions would the
observer expect to perceive and for what reason?
The observer's attitudinal involvement reaches a markedly high degree of subjectivity in his
comments on the state of darkness in (1), as has already been alluded to. The two clauses of the
first sentence are syntactically set into opposition through the contrastive conjunction although
which is normally used by a speaker to emphasis an incompatibility between two states of affairs
and to invite the addressee to share in this judgment (chapter seven). Thus, the syntactic patterning
of the sentence forces the reader to consider the two clauses as contradictory. It serves as an
instruction to the reader to decode the sentence in a particular way. The syntactic opposition is
echoed by a pragmatic contrast. Complete darkness means absence of light which leads to the
conclusion that there is need for light. By failing to do what "common sense" would apparently
require her to do (i.e to order the boy to provide some light source), so one is invited to believe, A...
is shown to have fouled a tacit norm (the common sense that the observer assumes is given and to
which he appeals in an effort to win the cooperation and sympathy of the reader).
For A... to afford to do without light under such circumstances requires her producing a
good plausible justification. Yet when this reason is allegedly provided, it is made to sound
absurdly unsatisfactory, or at least this is how the reader is expected to take it. Therefore, the
insinuated inference is that there must be some other reason different from the one offered and that
this real reason is deliberately hidden because there is something wrong with it. This amounts to a
questioning of A...'s truthfulness.
This questioning of A...'s real motives is heightened by the distancing effect of the
appositive clause "she says" which implies "but I do not have to believe her". By explicitly
attributing this claim to her the speaker establishes a fundamental distinction on the level of person
between "I" (the latent first person speaker) and "she" (the third person spoken of). The claim falls
in the sphere of the third person (which is absent from the speaker's present moment of producing
discourse). Thus, it is excluded from the sphere of the latent "I" (chapter two). This distancing
mechanism creates a strong sense of scepticism about A...'s sincerity and the truthfulness of her
excuses.
Bearing this implicit ambiguity and suspicion in mind, the proffered reasons sound hollow
and unconvincing: "in order not to risk spilling the contents in the darkness" or "probably thanking
her". The fear of spilling wine does not warrant the expressed degree of closeness, less still the
touching of the two heads which in fact could have had the adverse effect. Besides, if the darkness
is a potential impediment of the fulfillment of social duties as a hostess, then why have the darkness
in the first place? If the murmurs are meant as words of thanks, then there is no reason to utter them
so secretively. Franck being the guest, he would be expected to thank both hosts (if there is a third
person) or at least not to fear the danger of a third person overhearing the words. Why then does
the observer have recourse to such implausible explanations?
One possible explanation (which is supported by other passages to the same effect) would be
to stipulate the observer's stubborn refusal to admit the reality he must have had strong reasons to
believe in. In other words, the observer has a deep suspicion backed up both by visual and auditory
potential pieces of evidence and suggestive clues pointing to some reality which is anathema to him.
Yet, this strongly felt suspicion must be so loathsome to the observer that he is apparently willing to
seek far-fetched justifications for it although he is fully aware of their implausibility. The contrast
between the two versions (the suspected one and the given one) of what must have happened
between A... and Franck sets into relief the observer's dilemma and deep anguish.
Finally, if the observer is so agonized by a suspected dirty game going on between A... and
Franck, if (as has been shown above) he is familiar with both of them, if he is spatio-temporally
present on the scene (as a participant in the story), and if the particular focus of suspicion is the
potential love-making between the other two characters, then this observer is very likely to be the
partner of either character (that is, either Franck's wife or A...'s husband). Since the scene takes
place at A...'s plantation, and since no female company other than A... has been announced or even
alluded to (in fact it is gathered from the novel that Franck's wife never came to A...'s place), then
the only possibility left is that the observer is A...'s husband. His anguish could therefore be
attributed to his jealousy of Franck's intimacy with his wife.
VIII.3.5 Conclusion:
To recapitulate the main findings gathered from this discussion, the act of visual perception
has been shown to emanate from an observer who is deictically anchored in the proximity of A...
and Franck on the veranda. This observer has some particular interest (which develops into an
obsession) in observing as closely as possible the location and actions of the other two characters.
This special interest accounts both for the observer's negative reaction to the absence of adequate
and sufficient light and for the special focus on the position and movement of the d‚locut‚s' hands.
The relative accuracy of the guesses despite the unfavourable lighting arrangements suggests first
that the observer is familiar with the other two persons and second that he is looking for (or
expecting) some particular actions to take place. What kind of action does the observer expect to
see? Why should the observer be so motivated (to the point of obsession) in seeing the expected
actions? In what capacity is the observer present as a third person on the veranda? What are the
terms defining the relationship between the observer and the other two characters?
In answering these questions, it becomes apparent that the most likely person to fit these
descriptions is A...'s husband. As the master of the house, his presence as a third party on the
veranda is normal. In his capacity as A...'s husband, he can easily be shown to feel jealous of her
potential mischief with Franck (who after all is a friend of A...). Jealousy would then account for
the obsession detected in the act of visual perception and for the heavy affective colouring and
subjective bias informing the three passages. The reader cannot escape the thematising effect of the
title of the novel (Brown & Yule, 1983) to opt for the husband as the latent I-sayer.
 Summary:
From the theoretical discussion, as illustrated by the selected passages, it has been shown
that acts of visual perception are not transparent. They necessarily stem from a perceptual centre
(giving meaning to the deictic coordinates of person, space and time in the text) and that this centre
is at the same time a sentient centre (giving the utterance its affective and ideological colouring).
1/ This section was part of a paper that I have delivered before the discourse seminar, 1988,
Essex university.