Rabelais et l'humanisme civil.

In four compact chapters, Diane Desrosiers-Bonin articulates an ambitious and difficult project, namely, the ethical dimension and meaning of Rabelais's "mythologies Pantagruelicques." Chapter 1, "L'Ethique," establishes historical and programmatic distinctions for an understanding of humanistic ethics, while "Le Vin" (ch. 2), "Le Prince" (ch. 3), and "Des diables et des anges" (ch. 4) are the organizing motifs of her analysis of the fiction. An engaging "Epilogue," an ample bibliography (marred by typos not found elsewhere), and an index of names complement the whole.

Evangelism, humanism, Pantagruelism, and Rabelaisianism as terms and concepts have all played their part in our appreciation of Rabelais. Desrosiers-Bonin resolutely sets aside theological/ evangelical associations in order to concentrate on civic and secular humanism and ethics. Taking her cue from the conception of ethics held by Aristotle, Cicero, Dante, and Florentine humanists, she speaks of "le champ de la philosophie pratique" (21) which governs relations among individual, family, and society - politically, economically, domestically - with a view to fashioning integrity of character, wisdom, an active quality of courage, commitment, and excellence in conduct. Guided and thus fortified by reason, knowledge of self, and sense of duty, the individual seeks to act freely and joyously in conformity to a standard of right for his own good and that of the common weal.

The Pantagruelian ethics by which the fictional characters and narrator are to be measured are clearly and forcefully delineated. However, mindful of the fact that pinning Rabelais down is risky business and that he wrote comic fiction, not an ethical prompt-book, Desrosiers-Bonin peppers her discussion, appropriately, with discreet disclaimers: "la philosophie morale de Rabelais echappe a tout systeme dogmatique defini" (28); "Rabelais ne disserte pas sur l'ethique" (29); "Ayant expose les parametres ethiques dont la fiction rabelaisienne pratique le plus souvent l'ellipse mais sur lesquels elle s'articule. . ." (52), and throughout. In fact, wine, all manner of devils, and the philosopher king receive here exhaustive and often penetrating literary commentary in spite of an attempt to strongarm their raise en oeuvre into an ethical strategy. Each area of focus stands well by itself; however, taken together, they do not contribute convincingly, with the exception of the philosopher king, to the book's main thesis.

Of the three subjects, wine receives the most innovative treatment. Based on an exhaustive assembling of everything that legitimately falls under Rabelais' textual economics of imbibing, the analysis plumbs the pervasiveness and polysemy of wine as it energizes the narrator and flows from his "tonneau fictil," generating diegetic sequences, establishing oppositional characterization, and, through its therapeutic properties, restoring and/or maintaining good health for tipplers and "gens de bien." Yet, slowly but surely the argument moves a fair distance from ethical considerations.

On the other hand, the subject of the philosopher king is a searching examination - drawn through much paraphrase - of antithetical and corrective constructs strewn through, and connecting, all four authentic books. As in the case of wine, the author covers a lot of well-known ground, but there are also helpful rapprochements and insights. To my mind, the treatment of devils and angels overreaches and is less convincing; nevertheless, it casts new light, especially on Panurge.

Readers may object to the sacrifice of the artist's craft and writerly preoccupations on the altar of ethics, but the compensations are many: a clear, vigorous, and elegantly written book; a wealth of detail handled deftly (and calling for scholarly discourse beyond the scope of a review); command of Rabelais and the proliferation of material on his work; a Pantagruelian spirit in her discourse with others, along with the determination to stake her own position. In doing so, Desrosiers-Bonin displays herself the inner fortifications which she so insightfully teases out from Rabelais' narratives in her "epilogue."

Raymond C. La Charite UNIVERSITY OF KENTUCKY, LEXINGTON