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Overcoming a static concept of the work of art
The following double review compares the two works by Tiphaine Samoyault: All sorts of miserable things (Seuil, 2026, cited as TSM) and Translation and violence (Seuil, 2020, cited as TEV). Both books share a fundamental interest in the transformation of literary texts – be it through the cultural variation and adaptation of a classic or through the equally creative and violent act of translation.
The particular relevance of this initial thesis on Tiphaine Samoyault for contemporary literary studies lies in its radical departure from the notion of the "stable text" and its embrace of a poetics of textual mobility. In an age where digital archives suggest an excess of memory and global markets often reduce literary classics to mere commodities, Samoyault's works call for an understanding of literature not as a static monument, but as a dynamic process of transformation.
A central element of this current relevance is the redefinition of the "classic." Samoyault posits that variation is the condition for the existence of a classic. A work like "Les Misérables" remains vibrant not despite its countless adaptations, abridgments, and translations, but precisely because of this "endless metamorphosis." For literary studies, this means that the study of adaptations and receptions can no longer be considered a marginal aspect of philology, but must be recognized as a core area of the constitution of a work. The author demonstrates that works are "prone to absorbing and producing their variants," which makes a historical and critical examination of their use indispensable.
These quelques variations sur «Cosette» – qui ne sont qu'une sélection parmi beaucoup d'autres – permetettent de poser deux considérations qui peuvent sembler, de prime abord, paradoxales. The premiere is that the personage needs to be dispersed and differentiated. Selon the edition où nous la découvrons, les mots qui la disent ne sont pas les mêmes. Nous ne lisons pas la même Cosette. La deuxième est que la multiplication des Cosette garantit que nous la rencontrions toutes et tous, à a moment de nos existences lectrices. C'est pourquoi all the world is souvient de Cosette. Ainsi, et là le paradoxe disparaît, plus Cosette est réécrite, plus elle devient memorable. Les implications théoriques de this phrase – sur lesquelles la suite de cet essai reviendra plus longuement – invitent à nous demander de quoi nous nous souvenons lorsque nous lisons et sur quoi reposent nos communes références. (TSM)
These few variations on "Cosette"—which are only a selection among many others—lead to two considerations that may seem paradoxical at first glance. The first is that the character is constantly dissolving, becoming ever more differentiated. Depending on the edition in which we encounter her, the words that describe her are not the same. We are not reading the same Cosette. The second consideration is that the proliferation of Cosettes ensures that we all encounter her at some point in our lives as readers. Therefore, everyone remembers Cosette. And with that, the paradox disappears: the more often Cosette is rewritten, the more unforgettable she becomes. The theoretical implications of this statement—which will be discussed in more detail later in this essay—invite us to ask ourselves what we remember when we read, and what our shared references are based on.
Here, Samoyault demonstrates in concrete terms how she uses detailed philological work (comparing children's versions of Hugo's text) for her theory. She discusses the paradox that the fragmentation and variation of the original does not weaken its cultural presence, but rather enables it. For the book project, this means that literary studies must move away from its fixation on "the one" text and recognize "textual mobility" as the core of the classical.
Reflecting on transformation is highly relevant to current debates surrounding so-called "cancel culture." Samoyault argues that every culture rests on a fragile balance between remembering and forgetting and is therefore, in a sense, always a form of "cancel culture." The relevance of her thesis lies in framing rewriting as the opposite of erasure: rewriting a work is a way of remembering the original. Instead of condemning moral corrections to texts (as seen in the works of Agatha Christie or Mark Twain) as censorship, Samoyault invites us to understand these interventions as part of a "reparative justice" that makes invisible voices and marginalized perspectives audible within the canon.
Regarding translation, Samoyault challenges literary studies to question the widespread image of translation as a peaceful bridge between cultures. In the era of artificial intelligence and automated translation, which strives for perfect transparency and equivalence, her observation that "transparency is violence" is highly relevant. Contemporary research must therefore increasingly focus on "agonistic translation"—a model that does not smooth over the conflict and friction between languages, but rather preserves it as a creative and political force. Translation is understood here as a "potentially secessionist and emancipatory space" that can disrupt hegemonic linguistic structures.
Samoyault's approach compels literary studies to shift its focus from the authority of the original to the authority of the process. The transformation of literary texts becomes the arena where social power relations, ethical responsibilities, and the survival of cultural identities are decided. In a globalized world, it demonstrates that "a classic is defined less by its permanence than by its mutability." This interest in transformation thus unites philology with a committed cultural studies that understands literature as a living, often painful, but always necessary engagement with the world.
Individual readings: Texts as processes in space and time
TSM examines the nature of literary classics using Victor Hugo's monumental work as a case study. Samoyault argues that variation is the condition for a classic's existence: it remains alive only because it is constantly adapted, abridged, translated, and rewritten. Against the backdrop of contemporary debates surrounding "cancel culture," she demonstrates that rewriting is not an erasure, but rather a necessary process of collective memory that prevents works from becoming stagnant.
TEV challenges the common, purely positive image of translation as a peaceful bridge between cultures. Samoyault analyzes the inherent violence of translation—the destruction and reassembly of texts—as well as its historical entanglement in colonialism and totalitarianism. She advocates for an “agonistic” theory of translation that embraces the conflict and difference between languages, rather than feigning a false consensus or an illusory transparency.
The connection between these two questions lies in the concept of textual mobility. In both books, Samoyault breaks with the notion of a "sacred original." While the first book celebrates variation as a survival strategy of the classic, the second shows that this very process of transmission is often a painful struggle for authority and identity. Both works call for a literary studies that understands texts not as static monuments, but as dynamic processes in space and time.
All sorts of miserable thingsRewrite as remembering
The present book shows that the variation defines the class, which is the condition of its existence. Il veut le faire dans le contemporain context des attacks contre une pretendue culture de l'annulation où l'on s'insurge contre le droit de toucher à un texte. En prenant en compte les variations dans la durée de tout object culturel – Les Misérables seront mon objet d'étude premier, mais j'aurai recours à beaucoup d'autres exemples dans le domaine des arts –, je rappellerai que toute culture promeut en reléguant, voire en effaçant ce qui precede. The value of the oeuvres is nothing but consubstantielle: it is a potentially active or non-selon les époques. And if the culture is fond of an equilibrium between different memories and objects, it is possible to confirm that the culture is, in this manner, a “cancel culture”. Tout simplement parce que toute culture est la configuration singulière d'une mémoire collective, including part d'oubli temporaire et d'oubli définitif. C'est ainsi, on le verra, que réécrire n'est pas effacer, mais faire jouer les ombres et les lumières d'une façon chaque fois différente. (TSM)
This book aims to demonstrate that variation defines the classic, that it is the very prerequisite for its existence. It seeks to do so within the current context of attacks on a supposed culture of erasure, where the right to alter a text is met with resistance. Considering the variations in the lifespan of every cultural object—Les Misérables will be my primary subject of study, but I will draw on many other examples from the arts—I will remind you that every culture fosters progress by deferring or even erasing what came before. The value of works is not inherent in them: it is a potential that is activated or not, depending on the era. And if every culture is based on an ever-shifting balance between remembering and forgetting, then it can be said that every culture is, in its own way, a “cancel culture.” Quite simply, because every culture is the unique configuration of a collective memory, including its share of temporary and permanent forgetting. As we will see, rewriting is not an erasure, but rather a different interplay of light and shadow each time.
This excerpt lays the theoretical foundation of the book: Samoyault problematizes the static view of literary works that rejects any adaptation as "cancel culture." Instead, she discusses the thesis that a classic survives only through constant change. The relevance to the project lies in the reinterpretation of "deletion": it is not a destructive act, but a productive part of collective memory formation that keeps texts alive.
Chapter 1: Cent fois Cosette. Samoyault begins with the countless children's versions and adaptations of the Cosette character. She observes that abridgments often change more than rewritings, for example, when religious references are removed. Variation here is not a loss of authenticity, but a gain in memorability: "the more Cosette is rewritten, the more memorable she becomes."
Chapter 2: Trois fois Les Misérables. The author reflects on her own three readings of the novel at different stages of life and in different editions. She shows how individual experience alters the text: "We read who we are, far more than we are what we read." For literary studies, this means that reading itself is an active process of transformation that constantly reconstitutes the text.
Chapter 3: Mille fois encore, ailleurs. This chapter broadens the perspective to include world literature and examines the reception of Hugo in Russia, China, and Korea. Samoyault demonstrates that a work "gains value through translation." The classic is defined here as a "fleeting object" that only exists in the totality of its versions. This breaks with the paradigm of national philology in favor of a global perspective.
Chapter 4: Qu'est-ce qu'un texte lisible? Using the examples of Annie Ernaux and Montaigne, legibility is examined as an ideological construct. Samoyault argues that works age and become "opaque," which is why they must be constantly adapted. Literary studies thus gain the insight that legibility is not a fact, but a movement that includes the incomprehensible.
Chapter 5: Adapter, est-ce toujours altérer? Samoyault analyzes the title changes in Agatha Christie's works and the feminist reclaiming of fairy tales. She shows that what we consider the "original" or "canon" is often itself the result of earlier rewritings. She arrives at the insight that adaptation is the condition for the canon's continued existence under altered moral conditions.
Chapter 6: Les deux durées. Here, the author distinguishes between the "lasting duration" of works and the "fleeting duration" of theatrical adaptations. Using Shakespeare and Brecht as examples, she demonstrates that collective authorship is often obscured by an authoritarian literary culture. This necessitates a revision of the concept of genius, moving towards a recognition of the collective creative process.
Chapter 7: La réécriture comme contestation de l'autorité culturelle. Samoyault discusses rewriting as a critique of power, citing examples such as Toni Morrison and Mark Twain. She argues that philology is more revealing than ideology in demonstrating the "receptiveness of literature." Rewriting, in this context, is an act of "reparative justice" that makes voices from the margins audible.
Chapter 8: Réécrire n'est pas effacer. This chapter uses analogies from art (Rauschenberg, Vermeer) to show that erasure is often revelation. "Deleting is not destroying." Therefore, Samoyault differentiates between censorship (which excludes) and productive erasure, which reveals new layers of meaning.
Chapter 9: La disparition des livres. Samoyault reflects on the fear of burning libraries and lost books. She observes that in the digital age, we suffer more from an "excess" of memory. Literary studies must learn to deal with loss and fragmentation in order to keep texts alive.
Chapter 10: Faut-il réécrire les classiques? Samoyault concludes that classics are political institutions constituted by power relations. He argues that we should not be afraid of variations, as they reflect the metamorphosis of stories and languages. Literature remains a space for critiquing all institutions.
Translation and violenceTransparency is violence
Pour penser la transformation des relations que ce développement de la traduction assistée par ordinateur implique, il faut cesser de penser la traduction comme une opération exclusivement positive d'accueil de l'étranger ou d'apprentissage des other par leur langue. Il faut cesser d'en faire l'éloge ou de voir simplement elle l'espace de la rencontre entre les cultures et les different façons de penser. The traduction can also be used in the main tool of the march against a world of isolation, without the approach to the other part of the small piece of oreillette. The transparency is violence. Tout en se gardant bien d'observer ces évolutions sur le mode de la hantise ou de l'angoisse, the paraît donc important de penser autrement l'ensemble des processus de communication ; et, pour cela also, de comprendre la traduction comme une opération ambiguë, complexe, capable du meilleur comme du pire. Il faut rappeler source puissance d'appropriation et de réduction de l'altérité elle a manifesté dans l'histoire des rencontres culturelles, qui sont aussi des histoires de domination. (TEV)
To reflect on the changes brought about by the development of computer-assisted translation, we must stop viewing translation as an exclusively positive process, one in which we absorb the foreign or get to know others through their language. We must stop praising it or simply seeing it as a place of encounter between cultures and different ways of thinking. Translation can also become the primary tool on the path to an isolated world, where everyone perceives each other only through a small piece of headphones. Transparency is violence. Without viewing these developments with fear or anxiety, it therefore seems important to rethink all communication processes and, in doing so, to understand translation as an ambiguous, complex process capable of both the best and the worst. We must bear in mind the power of appropriation and reduction of otherness that translation has wielded throughout the history of cultural encounters, which are also histories of domination.
Samoyault problematizes the euphoric discourse surrounding technological transparency. She argues that supposedly "barrier-free" communication through AI prevents genuine encounters with difference. The book thus deconstructs the notion of translation as a purely peaceful bridge, revealing it as an ambivalent act of appropriating and reducing otherness.
Introduction: Seuls, chacun dans sa langue. Samoyault warns against the illusion of perfect, AI-driven transparency. She posits: "Transparency is violence." For her project, this means understanding translation as a complex operation that not only connects but also divides and appropriates.
Chapter 1: Traduction et consensus démocratique. The author criticizes the euphoric discourse of international organizations regarding translation as merely an instrument of peace. She exposes this as a denial of power relations. She thus postulates the necessity of reintroducing the "negative" into translation theory in order to make the friction between cultures visible.
Chapter 2: Les antagonismes de la traduction. Historical examples such as the conquest of America (Malinche) and Algeria demonstrate how translation contributed to the erasure of cultures. Translation is often a "service to ideological unification." This sharpens our awareness of the translator's political responsibility in asymmetrical power relations.
Chapter 3: La traduction agonique. Samoyault develops the concept of agonistic translation, which does not resolve conflict but utilizes it as a creative force. She demonstrates, using Beckett and Celan as examples, that translation places the work in a "state of difference." For literary studies, this offers a model for conceiving of texts beyond identity and ownership.
Chapter 4: La double violence. Here, the violence against the original (destruction of form) and the violence against the target language (alienation) are analyzed. Using the examples of Artaud and Pézard, she shows that radical translations reinvent language. Translation is recognized as a "secessionist space" that enables emancipation.
Chapter 5: La traduction dans les camps. The analysis of Primo Levi's work reveals translation as an act of survival and testimony. "Survival depends on the ability to translate." This underscores that testimony itself is a translation of experience into a language that often seems inadequate to the event.
Chapter 6: Rendre justice par la traduction. Samoyault connects "Justesse" (correctness) and "Justice" (justice). She discusses Derrida's concept of "relevant" translation. A just translation is one that restores the work's language or—as Mallarmé did in Arabic—reveals its hidden depths.
Chapter 7: Une zone d'imprévisibilité. Referring to Édouard Glissant, translation is understood as part of "relation" and "creolization." It is a realm of the unpredictable that breaks down hierarchical structures. This amounts to a poetics of translation that is based not on content, but on relational processes.
Chapter 8: Traduction et communauté. Samoyault examines how translation creates communities, but also excludes them. Using Michel Vinaver as an example, she shows how non-translation can mark the distance to global events. For literary studies, this leads to the insight that translation does not create a universal "we," but rather a "we of difference."
Chapters 9-10: Traduction, procréation et tournant sensitive. The author analyzes sexualized metaphors in translation and links them to biological processes of reproduction. Ultimately, she calls for a turn toward the sensual: translation must also consider the non-audible and the non-human (the "language of animals"). This broadens the horizon of literary studies far beyond the human text.
J'ai observé que si les métaphores de l'enfantement dominaient le discours sur la vie, cells qui sont couramment employées pour parler de l'acte de traduire touchent non plus à la naissance ou au fait de donner la vie, mais aux douleurs qui leur sont associées. Les birth pangs, les douleurs de l'enfantement, qui sont aussi en anglais les douleurs de la naissance, éprouvées à la naissance, et que la « nature » nous enjoint d'oublier, manifestent à la fois la collusion entre traduction et creation (tant les métaphores sont proches) et The idea that the traduction is a work that continues to take place in the creation of a form of revelation; The soul and the genie are as good as they come. La procréation, et les manipulations que l'on peut exercer à partir d'elle, rendent illusoire this question de l'origine, et ne subsiste plus alors que l'exercice du corps dans ce qu'il a de plus pénible car de plus contraint. La traduction prolonge la creation, mais elle en prolonge aussi – et dès lors en expresse – les difficultés et les peines. Elle la pousse, litéramente. Elle la sort du corps propre en tentant de lui en donner un other qui soit un peu le sien. (TEV)
I have observed that while metaphors of birth dominate the discourse on creation, those commonly used to discuss the act of translation no longer refer to birth or giving life, but rather to the associated pain. The birth pangs, which in English also denote the pains of childbirth felt during delivery and which “nature” compels us to forget, reveal both the entanglement between translation and creation (so similar are the metaphors) and the notion that translation is work, while creation continues to be conceived as a form of revelation; of the innate and of genius, since the latter is its own origin. Reproduction and the manipulations that can be exerted upon it render this question of origin illusory, leaving only the exercise of the body in its most painful form, since it is the most restricted. Translation prolongs creation, but it also prolongs the difficulties and toils—and thus gives them expression. It literally propels them forward. She takes them out of her own body and tries to give them another one that is also a little bit her own.
Samoyault problematizes the gender-specific metaphors of literary history. She shows that translation is not a godlike act of creation, but a laborious "birth" (procreation) fraught with the pain of second-rate status. The reward lies in the material and physical re-engagement inherent in translation: it is a "labor," a physical resistance that shatters the illusion of a sovereign, autonomous original.
Conclusion and outlook: Poetics of textual mobility
In both books, Samoyault combines meticulous philological textual analysis with political and cultural theory. While TSM takes a more inductive approach, progressing from a single work to a theory of the classic, TEV is more deductive and deconstructs the ethical consensus of translation studies. Both books reject a positivist understanding of literature. The author's work is highly interdisciplinary, incorporating fine arts, theater studies, legal philosophy, and natural sciences (biotechnology).
Her working method is characterized by "hyper-reading." She compares the smallest nuances in children's versions of "Les Misérables" as well as different translations of Celan or Kafka. She always remains concrete and vivid, for example, when she describes the physical exertion of translating as "work of the body."
A temporary parameter that influences the time period plus direction on the process of classicization, on the fluctuations of the société considère comme classique et sur la réécriture même des classiques, c'est le rôle du pouvoir. An ouvrage n'est pas érigé en classique pour des valeurs quii seraient intrinsics, mais selon la façon dont il est reçu. And this reception is made by Franchir plusieurs seuils de consécration. Celui de l'institution littéraire de l'époque, de l'édition, de l'école, de la recherche universitaire… Au XIXe siècle, pour la première fois en France, un éditeur, Hachette, lançait une collection dite de classiques. Ce ne fut pas a gamble. This initiative is to concomitant the exaltation of the “Roman National”. On aspirait alors à lier étroitement langue, littérature et nation. (TSM)
One final temporal factor perhaps has an even more direct influence on the process of classification, on the fluctuations in what a society considers classic, and on the reinterpretation of the classics themselves: the role of power. A work does not become a classic because of its intrinsic value, but because of how it is received. And this reception causes it to pass through several stages of recognition: those of the literary institutions of the time, the publishing industry, schools, university research… In the 19th century, a publisher, Hachette, launched the first so-called classics series in France. This was no coincidence. This initiative coincided with the enthusiasm for the “national novel.” At that time, there was a strong desire to closely link language, literature, and nation.
Samoyault problematizes the notion that classics possess timeless, inherent values. She demonstrates that a work's status is the result of power relations and institutional decisions. This is crucial to her argument in order to legitimize the current need for reinterpretations (e.g., from a decolonial perspective): Because the canon was politically constructed, it must also remain politically negotiable.
In TSM, Samoyault employs an inductive and philological method, taking Victor Hugo's novel as her primary object of study and meticulously comparing its countless variations. She conducts detailed textual analyses to demonstrate how abridgments, adaptations for children, or title changes often alter the "spirit" of a work more profoundly than a literal paraphrase. Her approach combines this philological detail with a historical discourse analysis that examines how institutions such as publishers and schools constitute and utilize classics as instruments of political power. Furthermore, she broadens her perspective to include world literature and transnational reception histories (for example, in China, Russia, and Korea) in order to break down the paradigm of national philology and understand the classic as a dynamic, global network of versions.
In TEV, the author pursues a deconstructive and critical-theoretical method, questioning the prevailing euphoric discourse on translation as a purely peaceful instrument of international understanding. She analyzes political institutional texts and historical case studies (such as the conquest of America or colonial Algeria) to demonstrate the entanglement of translation with power asymmetries, cultural erasure, and violence. Methodologically, she develops new conceptual categories such as "agonistic translation," which does not smooth over the conflict between languages but understands it as a creative potential, and shifts the focus away from philological "correctness" (rightness) to ethical “justice” (Justice). Her analysis also draws on literary case studies of extreme border experiences, such as in the works of Primo Levi or Paul Celan, to anchor translation as an existential act of survival and bearing witness.
The traduction place le même in a état de difference, et de difference continuée. Il faut essayer de prendre la mesure de ce par quoi this difference peut être critique. À l'ère des post (postmoderne, postcolonial ou posthumain…), le new, l'inédit, l'original ont laissé la place à une différence qui est pensée moins comme altérité éventuellement menaçante que comme état permanent de variations, d'hétérogénéités, d'hybridations. The risk is the dilution of the difference, which implies that this is a critique. Si la traduction a pris tant de place non seulement dans la pensée (comme régulation d'un rapport à la mondialisation) mais également dans les écritures contemporaines, c'est sans doute parce que notre époque a pris conscience des dangers de la représentation. Les écrivains bilingues, les écrivains qui s'autotraduisent ou qui choisissent d'écrire dans une langue étrangère, littéralisent le topos selon lequel toute littérature serait écrite dans une sorte de langue étrangère, travaillant la difference dans et pour la language. The translation of the product is jamais that the ressemblance habitée de dissemblances. (TEV)
Translation places the same thing in a state of difference and of ongoing difference. One must try to gauge to what extent this difference can be critical. In the post-age (postmodernism, postcolonialism, or posthumanism…), the new, the unknown, and the original have given way to a difference that is understood less as a potentially threatening otherness and more as a permanent state of variations, heterogeneities, and hybridizations. The risk sometimes lies in the dilution of difference, which means that it must be critical. If translation has occupied such a prominent place not only in thought (as a regulation of one's relationship to globalization) but also in contemporary literature, it is surely because our time has become aware of the dangers of representation. Bilingual writers, writers who translate themselves or choose to write in a foreign language, give literary form to the topos that all literature is written in some kind of foreign language and work with difference in and for language. Translation always produces only a similarity permeated by dissimilarities.
This excerpt discusses the central concept of "agonistic translation." Samoyault demonstrates that translation should not create identity, but rather maintain a "state of difference." For this project, this means that an ethical translation does not smooth over conflicts, but instead harnesses the friction between languages as a source of creative and critical potential.
With both books, Samoyault demonstrates that "literature has no privileges." Its power lies in its ability to resist the world order through constant transformation and translation. Her texts demand a radical departure from the static concept of text in contemporary literary studies, in favor of a poetics of textual mobility that understands the work not as an immutable monument, but as a dynamic network of infinite variations. A classic, therefore, is defined not by its permanence, but by its mutability in space and time, with rewriting, abridgment, and adaptation being the very condition for its memorability and survival. This perspective breaks down the narrow paradigm of national philology and anchors the literary object in a transnational world literature, in which an author only unfolds their full cultural impact through the global metamorphoses of their translations—as demonstrated by the reception of Hugo in China and Russia. The original loses its status as a sacrosanct, sovereign original text and is instead understood as a volatile object that only truly exists in the totality of its versions and uses.
Methodologically, this approach culminates in the demand for an agonistic philology that no longer smooths over power asymmetries and the inherent violence of textual circulation as disruptive factors, but rather productively utilizes them as friction points that foster knowledge. Instead of feigning an illusory transparency or a false democratic consensus that erases cultural differences, research must embrace the conflict between languages as a creative force and understand translation as a potentially secessionist and emancipatory space. Furthermore, Samoyault urges literary studies toward a tournant sensible, which broadens its focus beyond purely rational language to include the sensual and the non-human—from the material texture of sounds to the “language of animals.” Only through this openness to the unpredictable, the opacity and the material “pains” of textual transfer can the discipline confront the complexity of global crises and understand literature as a space of reparative justice, always ready to embrace “all kinds of misery”.
This article is written in German and can be found at https://rentree.de. Automatic translations into English and French are available. English, French.
