Carolyn A. Barros, Autobiography: Narrative of Transformation.
Ames, Deborah Lee
Carolyn A. Barros, Autobiography: Narrative of Transformation (U of
Michigan P, 1998), 248 pp., $42.50 cloth.
Autobiographical theory has, since Georges Gusdorf arguably
initiated it and James Olney carved its importance into the literary
theory totem, debated how the self is constructed and presented to the
reading public. Gusdorf maintained that an autobiographer fashions
his/her history into a unified entity; Olney emphasized in his first
theoretical analysis the importance of metaphor as a means by which the
lifewriter artistically creates him/herself. Since then, theorists have
asked such questions as: To what extent does the self even exist? To
what degree does our Western, patriarchal culture create the myth of the
self?. Can an autobiographer be trusted? Is memory reliable? Is the
value of an autobiography found in its successful grounding in the
referential? Such questions, while useful, are not, to paraphrase
Sidonie Smith in an important essay, those asked by Carolyn Barros.
While aware of the span of theoretical questions concerning
autobiography, Barros instead concentrates upon her thesis, that the
autobiographical act is a narrative which describes events that happened
"to me," that is, to the lifewriter.
Barros argues that autobiography is more than the story of the
"I," the "auto" of autobiography; it is the story of
the changes undergone by the self. Change intrigues Barros, who analyzes
five Victorian texts as she considers the ways in which the
autobiographers textualize their transformative experiences. She
summarizes her analysis of the five autobiographies: "John Henry
Cardinal Newman, characterized as Anglican turned Catholic, John Stuart Mill, characterized as reasoning machine turned philosopher of feeling,
Charles Darwin, characterized as beetle collector turned naturalist, and
Margaret Oliphant, characterized as artist turned breadwinner turned
artist, along with Carlyle's fictive personae, tailor and
retailored tailor, mark out very different Victorian personae"
(201). Barros succinctly states her thesis in this manner: autobiography
is often (but not always) a "narrative of transformation,"
which describes the manner by which the author has changed (10). The
emphasis is clearly upon change--an evolution, a transformation, an
emergence into the full, autobiographical self.
What better source to demonstrate evolution than Darwin himself?.
In a chapter entitled "From Beetle Collector to Acclaimed
Naturalist," Barros stresses that Darwin's lifewriting
demonstrates her thesis that some autobiographies unveil an evolutionary
process of transformation. Those of us with a liberal-arts understanding
of biology and natural selection have been taught that Darwin postulated
evolutionary changes as a biological imperative, the survival of the
fittest, and the celebration of environmental adaptation. As I read
Barros' argument, I agreed with her that lifewriters are concerned
with what has happened in their lives, yet I saw in the autobiographies
themselves less an emphasis on radical change and more a growing
development of life-long interests brought to fruition. A Jungian
interpretation would stress the essential, unchanging core that each
autobiographer presents. Were psychologist James Hillman, an expert on
Freud and Jung, to read Autobiography: Narrative of Transformation, he
would no doubt challenge Barros' central premise. In his
examination entitled The Soul's Code, Hillman draws from ancient
Egyptian, Greek, and Roman concepts, as well as from modern psychology,
in postulating that each person has a specific talent that must be
expressed. The Greeks called it the daimon, the Romans labeled it
genius, the Christians used terms like a calling or one's guardian
angel, still others, fate or destiny, but, no matter the nomenclature,
Hillman insists that this essence of who an individual is may be
observed even in childhood, should the child be exposed to, or uncover,
that which is the child's passion. Hillman argues that personal
fulfillment and completeness is found when the individual embraces
his/her daimon.
By applying Hillman's argument to Darwin's autobiography,
the progression from beetle collector to acclaimed naturalist is not so
much a process of being transformed from one thing to another as a
fuller and deeper realization of the self. Another example could come
from Barros' chapter on John Henry Newman. Newman's decision
to leave the Anglican Church and become a Catholic sent shock waves
across England to the extent that we, in our secular times, can scarcely
imagine. Whereas we might see the conversion from Anglicanism to
Catholicism as a personal preference regarding Christian denominations,
Newman and his contemporaries grappled with his conversion as changing
religions, something not done without great risk in both temporal and
eternal spheres. Newman's conversion, the transformation that
concerns Barros, was seen by many as nothing short of betrayal.
However much care Newman takes in his Apologia pro Vita Sua to
guide his readers through his religious opinions, thereby encouraging
them to understand the process of his transformation from Anglican
cleric to Catholic clergyman, he keeps his autobiographical world firmly
structured around religion. After an introductory confession of
"how great a trial" it is "to write the following
history" of himself, Newman begins his textual life by positioning
himself vis-a-vis the Bible (23). And if we subscribe to Hillman's
argument, then Newman can do no other, for a lively intellectual
relationship with God and the church was indeed his daimon, his genius,
his calling. Only a few paragraphs into the Apologia, Newman records how
he discovered in his "first Latin verse-book" a drawing by his
own hand, the sight of which "took my breath away with
surprise" (24). He had discovered that he, as a young boy and as
prejudiced against Catholics as any other British boy of his station,
had drawn a rosary. Tellingly, he does not identify the object by its
common noun but rather he describes what it looks like. The rosary
causes Newman to reflect that "the strange thing is, how, among the
thousand objects which meet a boy's eyes, these in particular
should so have fixed themselves in my mind, that I made them thus
practically my own" (24). Hillman would interpret that as an
inchoate, pre-verbal pointer to Newman's daimon.
Not everyone will agree with James Hillman's argument that
each individual has a particular calling, nor will all autobiographical
theorists concur with the early thinker on lifewriting, Georges Gusdorf.
Gusdorf proposes that lifewriting represents a "reconstructing the
unity of a life across time" (37), a unity which may or may not
have actually existed, but is imposed upon the written life by the
autobiographer. The lifewriter reconsiders, reevaluates, and
reconstitutes the life lived, and in the course of writing down that
life, an essential unity unfolds. Another early writer on
autobiographical theory, Rockwell Gray, while not as prominent a figure
as Gusdorf, observes that an autobiography "embraces mutability and
ambivalence" (55). Barros would perhaps align herself closer to
Gray's assessment than to Gusdorf's, yet it may be that the
dialectic of unity and mutability must be present in each significant
autobiography. Anyone who has lived has experienced changes and
transformations; all of the lifewriters Barros considers discuss the
"mutability and ambivalence" that constituted their lives.
Still, I wonder if the transformations that Barros identifies are not,
in their essences, unity. Newman sought after spiritual truth, Darwin
was fascinated by what he observed in nature, to mention the two
examples employed in this review. For myself, I interpret the
autobiographers as emphasizing less a transformative change and more a
deeper becoming. However, scholars interested in autobiography in
general or Victorian autobiography in particular will want to read
Barros' book, an indepth examination of five crucial texts.
Deborah Lee Ames
Oklahoma State University
Works Cited
Barros, Carolyn. Autobiography: Narrative of Transformation. U of
Michigan P, 1998.
Gray, Rockwell. "Autobiography Now." The Kenyon Review ns
4 (Winter 1982): 31-55.
Gusdorf, Georges. "Conditions and Limits of
Autobiography." 1956. Tr. James Olney. Autobiography: Essays
Theoretical and Critical. Princeton UP, 1980. 28-48.
Hillman, James. The Soul's Code: In Search of Character and
Calling. New York: Random, 1996.
Newman, John Henry. Apologia pro Vita Sua. Ed. Ian Ker. New York:
Penguin, 1994.