the hermetic, or deliberately non-communicative, nature of the more contemporaryelements of the text, suggesting that in this instance, just like Voltaire’s Précis du sièclede Louis XV, short and simplified history may in fact be synonymous with omissionand subjectivity. As Voltaire protested: ‘Malheur à celui qui dirait tout’!

Síofra PierseUniversity College Dublin

Le Dialogue d’idées au dix-huitième siècle. Stéphane Pujol. SVEC 2005:06.Oxford: Voltaire Foundation. 2005. xvi + 336. £60. pb. 0-7294-0862-0.

Although a minor genre in antiquity, the dialogue was widely practised in eighteenth-century France, often by some of the most eminent writers of the day. Modernscholarship’s relative neglect of this ‘phénomène littéraire’ (p.viii) provides Pujol withthe justification for his study.

Pujol begins by tracing the heritage of the genre, identifying early examples thatinfluenced the dialoguistes of the Enlightenment. Ancient masters were Plato, Ciceroand Lucian, followed later by Erasmus, Fénelon and Fontenelle. The term genre sitsuneasily with Pujol: the eighteenth-century dialogue does not model itself on any onepredecessor in particular, but instead combines elements from each. Notwithstandingthis, all shared a common purpose which was to instruct the reader and impart ideasin a language that imitated natural conversation. Authors of eighteenth-centurydialogues disagreed over the type of language that was most appropriate, especiallywith regard to the diffusion of scientific ideas. Should it be that of the salons or theacademies, light-hearted or serious, figurative or plain, exoteric or esoteric? Pujolexamines the use of the dialogue as a vehicle for the treatment of moral, politicaland religious issues, paying specific attention to devices employed to put forwardalternative perspectives, such as the foreigner or savage as interlocutors.

The study continues with an analysis of the structure and organisation of theeighteenth-century dialogue. Pujol explores the role of the narrator (not alwayspresent), the composition of chapters, characterisation and setting. Settings provideda framework for the dialogues. A place of quiet retreat facilitated philosophicalenquiry; the reading of a book in a library allowed an author to comment onanother’s work. Writers employed a number of techniques to convert their readers.One character might dominate the discussion, or the dialogue might end with thedefeat of an adversary. Winning the argument, however, was not always the objective:in the majority of cases interlocutors sought an accord.

In the final section of his study Pujol divides the dialogues of the eighteenthcentury into four groups. First to be considered is the dialogue des morts, often used bymoralists to pour scorn on human folly, casting a cynical eye over the conduct of theliving from an imaginary position beyond the grave. The second group is the dialoguepédagogique, which usually took the form of a catechism (questions and answers) or aconversation between master and disciple. The third category is the dialogue polémique,confrontational in style, and which saw a surge in popularity in pamphlet form duringthe Revolution. Last to be considered is the dialogue philosophique, a particularlyeclectic group according to Pujol, perhaps as a result of which his examinationfocuses on selected authors.

Pujol’s investigation is comprehensive and meticulous. It leaves few, if any, stonesunturned, and draws upon an impressive quantity and range of material. It is densely

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© 2008 British Society for Eighteenth-Century Studies

written, and as a consequence is demanding of the reader. Nonetheless, it representsa valuable contribution to our understanding of the dialogue and its diversity ofapplications in the Enlightenment.

Tim ReeveQueen’s University Belfast

The Enraged Musician: Hogarth’s Musical Imagery. Jeremy Barlow. Aldershot:Ashgate. 2005. 367. 184 b. and w. illus., 17 music examples. £65. hb. 1-80414-615-X.

William Hogarth (1697-1764), painter, printmaker and renowned satirist ofeighteenth-century English politics and society, was the first to give England itsown artistic identity with his ‘modern moral subjects’. His illustrations of realisticcontemporary scenes explored a new relationship between art and society, one whichwas moralising and yet entertaining. Within one image Hogarth frequently createda proliferation of images, often both comic and tragic. He is credited with being thefirst to apply narrative techniques to contemporary subjects with his series of printsand paintings, the most successful and enduring of which are A Harlot’s Progress(1732) and A Rake’s Progress (1735). The title of Jeremy Barlow’s new book, TheEnraged Musician, is also the name of one of Hogarth’s best-known musical images.Significantly, over seventy of Hogarth’s works include a depiction of music, or areference to it.

Barlow’s scholarly and original investigation into Hogarth’s satiric depictionsof musical life makes a major contribution to the study of musical iconologyand performance practice in eighteenth-century England. Indeed, as a performerof seventeenth- and eighteenth-century popular English music, Barlow is ideallyequipped to deal with these issues. Musicologists and others interested in eighteenth-century musical life will find this a fascinating and eminently readable book.

Barlow opens with an examination of Hogarth’s place in the musical world ofeighteenth-century London. Hogarth’s musical interests and musical connectionsseem to lie mainly in the theatre, and this is evidenced by the large number offrontispieces and illustrations he produced for theatrical and musical works. Thesecond chapter investigates the problems of using Hogarth’s iconology in order toprovide information about eighteenth-century music-making. Barlow admits that hehad hoped to learn more about performance practice from these images, but wasdisappointed to find that Hogarth’s satirical portrayals are a quagmire of problems:images are reversed, fiddlers are playing backwards, and many scenes of musiciansprove to be quite unrealistic from a musical standpoint. Happily, however, in the caseof Hogarth these problems do not affect the satirical value of his images, and still leavemuch for us to explore.

Chapters three and four, on ‘Rough music’ and ‘Burlesque music’, are particularlyvaluable to scholars. This is the first thorough, serious examination of these popularburlesquing instruments as well as the first investigation into their use as a toolfor musical satire during this era. Barlow focuses on several different low-statusinstruments (such as marrowbones and cleavers, bagpipes, and the bladder-and-string) and their satiric meanings in several engravings and paintings, as well as theuse of music in the traditional low-class skimmington – a loud, vulgar demonstrationof disapproval against those who broke the accepted rules of behaviour in a

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© 2008 British Society for Eighteenth-Century Studies