Chapter Seventeen provides an ambitious synthesis of many of the concepts and authors addressed earlier in the volume in order to argue for two intertwining genealogies of modern fiction: on the one hand, the historical and social novel, and on the other, the Gothic, fantastic tales, and other non-realist literary forms. All these genres and forms encode questions of uneven development and often also express a sense of historical and epistemological disorientation. The chapter opens with examples of crossovers between fiction and other artforms to show the rich variety of forms and their influence on European culture. It then looks at cross-border influences and on individual nations’ different material conditions. Romanticism inherited and transformed a series of existing forms and themes, including travel literature, the epistolary novel, the Gothic, and the picaresque, into new forms, including the Bildungsroman, the fragment, the tale, and novella. These reflect an intense self-consciousness regarding historical time and place, even when they appear most ahistorical.

The first chapter analyzes the role of verisimilar realism in two trials: the summary trial officiated by Dioneo between the servants Tindaro and Licisca (Introduction, Day 6) and the inquest of the woolworker Simona, who is falsely accused of poisoning her lover Pasquino (4.7). It argues that Boccaccio uses these trials to foreground the risks involved when rhetorical categories such as “likely” and “probable” are used to evaluate evidence. These procedural tales are driven by the tension inherent between what everyone knows on the one hand and the singular event on the other, or between normative knowledge and the “novella.” In the trial between the two servants, the judge Dioneo acknowledges that women are not always virgins on their wedding night. He updates the storytellers’ shared picture of the world, making it more realistic. The trial of the woolworker Simona suggests how an art of the probable might incorporate singular phenomena. Yet certain details always remain outside the frame.

The last four novels Roth composed prior to his retirement—which include Everyman, Indignation, The Humbling, and Nemesis have also been lately grouped together as “Nemeses.” The novels—more accurately deemed novellas, in sharp contrast to hefty tomes likes those collected as “The American Trilogy”—are not grouped together by a common protagonist, but rather by their notable brevity and by common theme: all four deal closely with the subject of mortality.This chapter offers an expanded discussion for the rationale of grouping these novels together (and, as with the other categorizations, the pitfalls of doing so), and will provide an overview of their critical reception and commentary on how they draw upon and depart from Roth’s earlier body of work.

Whereas much scholarship on the history of the novel focuses on its relationship to large narrative forms such as epic or romance, this chapter argues that the novella tradition plays a central role in the development of the novelistic world. We show how intercalated novellas, translated or adapted from Italian or Spanish, inflect the emergence of the French novelistic canon, functioning as sites at which cultural difference is explored and managed. Material from the novella tradition helps shape and define the notions of national character and identity, as well as the role of a national language, in the emerging French canon. The chapter moves from the history of translation and editing, through a discussion of Scarron and Mme de Lafayette, to a study of the politics of genre.

One aspect of McEwan’s celebrated status as a stylist is his distinctive contribution to the novella, a genre that arguably reached its pinnacle in the late nineteenth and early twentieth century. Novellas like Amsterdam (1998), with its focused critique of the left-leaning elite who did well in the Thatcher era, and On Chesil Beach (2007), with its (apparently) precise anatomy of sexual mores, reveal how McEwan uses the novella as an incisive instrument of cultural analysis. Embracing, as well, The Cement Garden (1978) and The Comfort of Strangers (1981), this chapter considers what it means to be an accomplished contemporary novella writer by making the case that, throughout his career, McEwan has continued to work with great skill in an overlooked literary form, once thought to be the most sophisticated mode of shorter fiction.