Abstract
This study explores the concept of literary voyeurism as a complex phenomenon, involving the dynamics of observation, power, and ethical responsibility within literary narratives. Drawing on psychoanalytic frameworks from Sigmund Freud, Jacques Lacan, Julia Kristeva, and Jean Bellemin-Noël, this study examines voyeurism not only as an act of observing but as a legitimate and illegitimate mechanism. This article distinguishes the ethical boundaries between the voyeurism of characters—marked by transgression and power imbalance—and that of the reader, positioned as legitimate observer who actively engages in the cocreation of the text. To illustrate these complexities, the study analyzes Marguerite Duras's The Ravishing of Lol V. Stein, a novel where voyeurism functions as both a narrative and thematic centerpiece. Through Lol's compulsive gaze at others and Jack Hold's controlling, voyeuristic narration, the text reveals layered interactions of observation, desire, and identity. Lol's voyeurism, driven by trauma, is contrasted with Jack Hold's manipulative gaze, which objectifies and redefines her within his narrative. Simultaneously, the reader is implicated in a layered voyeuristic act, observing not only the characters but also their acts of voyeurism. The discussion highlights the dual role of voyeurism in literature: as a means of exploring human desire and as a narrative tool that challenges the reader to reflect on his/her ethical engagement with fictional texts. By addressing these dynamics, the article provides insights into the broader implications of voyeurism in literature and its resonance with psychoanalytic and ethical discourse.
Introduction
The roots of literary voyeurism can be traced back to psychoanalytic theory, particularly in the works of Sigmund Freud and Jacques Lacan. Freud's exploration of scopophilia—the pleasure derived from looking—provides a foundational understanding of voyeurism as a desire linked to repression and the unconscious (Freud, 1962). Building on this foundation, Lacan emphasizes the role of the gaze in the formation of subjectivity, thereby distinguishing between the seeing subject and the seen object (Lacan, 1977). These psychoanalytic perspectives have been instrumental in revealing the dynamics of power and desire that characterize voyeurism, both in real life and in literary texts, illustrating how they shape the interactions among readers, characters, and narratives. However, this study does not limit the term “voyeurism” to the “recurrent and intense sexual arousal from observing an unsuspecting person who is naked, in the process of disrobing, or engaging in sexual activity, as manifested by fantasies, urges, or behaviors” (American Psychiatric Association, 2022: 780), it also includes any kind of intense and distant gazing or spying.
The ethical concerns raised by literary voyeurism have been directly and indirectly examined in various studies. Elizabeth Grosz (1995) examines how corporeality, sexuality, and the vestigial traces of embodiment continue to inform systems of knowledge, desire, and spatial organization. She offers insight into how literature both reflects and reproduces power structures through the positioning of the reader and textual body. According to her, “there are always ways in which the sexuality and corporeality of the subject leave their traces or marks on the texts produced” (Grosz, 1995: 21). Similarly, Rita Felski (1995) addresses how modern literature often reflects and reinforces gendered power dynamics, with particular attention to how voyeuristic gazes are structured around the male gaze. Felski's analysis is important for understanding how gendered voyeurism informs ethical concerns in literary texts, particularly when it comes to the dynamics between the reader (often implicitly male) and female characters, who are objectified through their exposure to the reader's gaze. She emphasizes that “[…], woman is aestheticized, and the threat of the natural is thus negated by being turned into art; the female body is transformed into a visually pleasing play of surfaces and textures under the scrutiny of the male gaze” (Felski, 1995: 110).
Furthermore, Susan Sontag (1973) and Roland Barthes (1977) offer critical perspectives on the ethics of looking and the role of the observer. On the one hand, Sontag (1973) addresses the ethics of viewing and how the act of looking itself can be seen as a violation of privacy. She highlights that photography serves as a tool for engagement and perceived participation in events. An advertisement illustrates this by showing a group of stunned and passive onlookers, contrasted with a composed individual holding a camera. This person, transformed into an active voyeur, exerts control over the situation. The specific subject of their gaze is left ambiguous, emphasizing that the act of witnessing and capturing an event is what grants it significance. “Taking photographs has set up a chronic voyeuristic relation to the world which levels the meaning of all events,” argues Sontag (1973: 7). While her focus is on photography, her reflections on the ethics of the gaze can be applied to literary voyeurism, highlighting the power and responsibility inherent in the observation act. On the other hand, Barthes's work, with its focus on the relationship between the observer and the observed, emphasizes how the reader's engagement with literary texts can be understood as an act of voyeurism, with its own set of ethical implications. In this regard, Barthes (1977) distinguishes signifiance from signification—noting that “signifiance has sometimes been translated as ‘significance’” (Barthes, 1977: 10). According to him, significance refers to a process where the “subject” or the reader of the text transcends the ego-driven logic of self-awareness, engaging instead with the complexities of language—its contradictions and the workings of the signifier. In this process, the subject or the reader is deconstructed, or “lost” (Barthes, 1977: 10). Unlike signification, which implies mastery of language for communication, representation, or expression, significance is a transformative exploration of language that dissolves the subject or the reader into the text. This loss aligns with the pleasure of jouissance, where the text becomes erotic not through explicit depiction but through the dynamic interplay of language itself.
However, despite the extensive scholarship on fictional narratives, few critics have addressed the ethical concerns related to the reader's intrusion into the privacy of literary characters. For example, Wayne C. Booth offers a thoughtful response to the question he poses as a subheading: “What are the author's responsibilities to those whose lives are used as ‘material’?” (Booth, 1988: 130). His analysis focuses on the author's duties to real individuals who may inspire literary characters, rather than the characters themselves. Similarly, while Martha Nussbaum points readers to a “subtle analysis of issues of privacy in the novel of consciousness” (Nussbaum, 1990: 48–87) in Dorrit Cohn's Transparent Minds (1978), this analysis does not explore the ethical implications of the reader's intrusion into the fictional privacy of characters, either in Cohn's work or in Nussbaum's own.
Therefore, while literary voyeurism often involves a one-way gaze from the reader to the text, wherein the characters’ private lives are laid bare, the ethical concerns surrounding this dynamic remain underexplored. The dual nature of voyeurism in literature—generally deemed legitimate in the form of the reader's gaze and illegitimate in the voyeurism of the characters—presents a complex ethical framework. Using a multidisciplinary approach, combining psychoanalytic, narrative, and ethical analysis, this study examines The Ravishing of Lol V. Stein by Marguerite Duras to explore how voyeurism functions not only as a mechanism for revealing characters’ secrets but also as a tool that implicates the reader in the transgression of fictional privacy. This dual dynamic raises significant questions about the narrative's power and the ethical responsibilities of both authors and readers in the creation and reception of texts. Hence, this study aims to answer the following questions: (1) How does the voyeurism of characters in literary texts reflect illegitimate acts of observation, which raise questions of legal and ethical standards in reality? (2) In what ways can the reader's role as an observer be understood as a legitimate form of voyeurism, particularly in relation to the ethical boundaries of real-world voyeurism? (3) How do specific narrative strategies in texts such as Marguerite Duras's The Ravishing of Lol V. Stein establish a double voyeurism, positioning both the character and the reader in distinct, ethically charged roles? (4) What are the legal and ethical implications of engaging in voyeurism in literature, and how might these implications extend to broader debates on the relationship between literature and reality? The analysis is structured around three key axes: the presumably illegitimate voyeurism of characters, the reader as a presumably legitimate voyeur, and the legal and ethical dimensions of voyeurism in literature. By analyzing the case of Lol V. Stein, the study highlights the complex layers of voyeurism within the novel. It concludes that the reader, as a cocreator, plays an active role in the literary process, positioning the reader as a key participant in the construction and interpretation of the text and as a legitimate voyeur, not only of the characters’ actions but also of their illegitimate voyeurism.
Literature review
The theme of voyeurism in literature has gained significant scholarly interest, particularly regarding its moral, ethical, and legal dimensions. Freud's concept of scopophilia reveals voyeurism as a desire intimately linked to unconscious drives, repression, and the transgression of moral and social norms. Though he does not explicitly use the term of “voyeurism,” his discussion of perversions and overvaluation of the sexual object highlights dynamics of power, control, and submission that underpin voyeuristic desire (Freud, 1962). This is especially evident in Freud's observation that: The eye is perhaps the zone most remote from the sexual object, but it is the one which, in the situation of wooing an object, is liable to be the most frequently stimulated by the particular quality of excitation whose cause, when it occurs in a sexual object, we describe as beauty. (For the same reason the merits of a sexual object are described as ‘attractions’.) This stimulation is on the one hand already accompanied by pleasure, while on the other hand it leads to an increase of sexual excitement or produces it if it is not yet present. (Freud, 1962: 209)
Laura Mulvey's seminal essay, “Visual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema” (1975), applies psychoanalytic theory to mainstream film to expose how cinematic structures organize visual pleasure around the active male gaze and the passive female object. She argues that traditional cinema situates the spectator in a voyeuristic position, one that mimics the unconscious drives described by Freud—particularly scopophilia, or the pleasure in looking. As Mulvey explains, “the cinema offers a number of possible pleasures. One is scopophilia,” which Freud identified as a component instinct of sexuality, independent of the erotogenic zones, and associated with “taking other people as objects, subjecting them to a controlling and curious gaze” (Mulvey, 1975: 8). The cinematic apparatus, with its isolation of the viewer in darkness and the screen's illuminated world, fosters an illusion of observing a private reality, thus reinforcing the dynamic of voyeuristic detachment. Although Mulvey's analysis is grounded in film, her insights into the gaze, fetishism, and scopophilic pleasure have been adapted to literary studies. In this context, literary theorists have drawn similarities between the film spectator and the reader, both positioned as distant yet active observers of female characters. This adaptation reveals persistent themes of gendered power, objectification, and the ethics of looking—central to what can be termed literary voyeurism.
Building on the ethical implications of literary voyeurism, scholars such as Wayne C. Booth (1983) and James Phelan (1996) consider the responsibilities of readers when engaging with morally ambiguous texts. Booth's concept of the “implied author” and Phelan's model of narrative as a rhetorical act both provide essential frameworks for understanding how readers are positioned within ethically charged stories. For Booth, every literary work—regardless of whether its author consciously addresses an audience—functions as “an elaborate system of controls over the reader's involvement and detachment along various lines of interest” (Booth, 1983: 123). This control is exercised through deliberate narrative choices that guide the reader's emotional and intellectual responses, drawing on the full range of human experience (Booth, 1983). Such manipulation of reader engagement becomes particularly significant in works like John Fowles’ The Collector (1963) and Vladimir Nabokov's Lolita (1955), where readers are not simply passive observers but are drawn into the voyeuristic acts of the characters. In these narratives, the reader is invited to witness and even empathize with the characters’ morally questionable desires, creating a sense of complicity. This narrative strategy foregrounds a deeper ethical dimension in the act of reading itself—one that Phelan (1996) explores through his concept of narrative as a rhetorical act that implicates the reader in the unfolding moral dimension of the text. In his analysis of Joseph Conrad's The Secret Sharer, he proposes that “to read this narrative is, both metaphorically and literally, to become a secret sharer with the captain,” and asks how this act of narrative participation influences “the ethical dimension of our reading experience” (Phelan, 1996: 119). Through this framework, Phelan positions the reader as an ethically implicated participant, drawn into the moral ambiguities of character decisions and narrative form.
Furthermore, Hélène Cixous's analysis of Freud's Uncanny in Fiction and Its Phantoms (1976) examines the relationship between literature, psychic desire, and readerly engagement. Although she does not explicitly address voyeurism, Cixous emphasizes the “strange pleasure incurred in the reading of the Freudian text” and the “inseparable and concomitant uneasiness which parallels Freud's own” (Cixous, 1976: 526), suggesting that literary texts entangle the reader in processes of psychic identification and disturbance. In this regard, Cixous indirectly positions the reader as a participant in a voyeuristic gaze—a gaze that is simultaneously attracted to and unsettled by what the text reveals and conceals. She describes the reading experience as a puppet theater “in which real dolls or fake dolls, real and simulated life, are manipulated” (Cixous, 1976: 525), highlighting the relationship between fiction, identity, and scopophilic fascination. Julia Kristeva, in Powers of Horror: An Essay on Abjection (1982), develops this idea further by linking the act of reading to the experience of abjection—an affective state characterized by both attraction and repulsion. She defines the abject as that which “disturbs identity, system, order. What does not respect borders, positions, rules. The in-between, the ambiguous, the composite” (Kristeva, 1982: 4). In the context of literary voyeurism, Kristeva's theory suggests that the reader's engagement with unsettling or transgressive narratives—especially those that depict intimate or forbidden acts—echoes the experience of abjection, where desire is “drawn toward an elsewhere as tempting as it is condemned” (Kristeva, 1982: 1). This dynamic invites the reader into a space of affective and ethical ambiguity, complicating the seemingly passive position of observation.
Recent contributions to the discourse on voyeurism, such as the work of Pierre Bayard and François Migeot (2024), raise critical questions about literature's capacity to theorize when authors possess psychoanalytic knowledge. Migeot (2024) analyzes Alain Robbe-Grillet's La Jalousie, identifying challenges in uncovering the associative threads behind interpretative contexts that engage a “fabricated” unconscious. This analytical endeavor leads to a secondary interpretation that reveals the genuine workings of the unconscious accessible to critics through transference. Expanding on voyeurism, Ae-Young Choe (2024) examines Robbe-Grillet's Le Voyeur, arguing that the narrative's emphasis on sight imposes voyeuristic concepts on the reader. Choe suggests that a deeper reading, informed by Jean Bellemin-Noël, reveals the inadequacy of visual perception to convey the evocative force of violence, thereby emphasizing auditory experiences to intensify phantasmatic activity. This intersection of visual and auditory engagement further enriches the analysis of voyeurism within literary texts.
In a poetic context, Edina Zvrko's analysis of Jean-Philippe Toussaint's La Réticence presents the text as an allegory of artistic creation, employing Didier Anzieu's theory of the five phases of creative processes alongside Lacanian insights. Zvrko (2024) draws upon Jean Bellemin-Noël's notion of auto-transference to focus on the act of reception, illustrating the relationship between image and word in the creative endeavor. Meanwhile, Jean-Michel Delacomptée (2024) explores jealousy through the works of Proust, Madame de Lafayette, and Saint-Simon, advocating for a convergence of psychological and sociocultural approaches to achieve a comprehensive “psycho-political” interpretation of fiction. Lastly, Monic Robillard (2024) explores Jean Bellemin-Noël's Le Transhumant, a collection of “auto-chronicles,” highlighting the text's personal and autobiographical nature, particularly through the motif of a deceased twin. This motif highlights the complexities of self-writing and the role of the imagined other in facilitating self-revelation. Together, these diverse approaches underline the absence of a singular method for practicing the psychoanalysis of texts, suggesting that although psychoanalytic literary theory may be less prominent in contemporary discourse, it offers a rigorous framework for engaging with the unconscious within literary works.
In this context, Patrick O’Connor (2024) identifies Sylvia Molloy as a pioneer of queer theory, asserting that she engaged with its principles even prior to the formal emergence of the field in the early 1990s. As he states, “Sylvia Molloy was doing queer theory ‘before queer theory,’ finding inconvenient and unruly impulses in the authors that she studied before 1991,” especially through “an erotic component in the act of seeing” (O’Connor, 2024: 49). Her novel En breve cárcel, published in 1981, illustrates this through its subversion of patriarchal institutions and the “occupying” of hollowed-out male positions. O’Connor contrasts Molloy's evolving interpretation of Borges, revealing how her later description of him as a “voracious” reader driven by a hunger for knowledge diverges from the disembodied, abstract figure portrayed by French scholars. Notably, it is in her readings of Felisberto Hernández that Molloy fully articulates voyeurism as a tool for autobiographical insight. As O’Connor explains, “[i]n the early works of Sylvia Molloy, the threat to the literary will be similar to the threats to the continued influence of Felisberto, and the defense of the literary will also involve the roundabout rescue of the ambivalent privileges of the voyeur” (O’Connor, 2024: 51). This formulation positions voyeurism not as a marginal motif, but as central to Molloy's literary and critical practice. While Hernández becomes somewhat marginalized in her later works due to her focus on feminism and queer theory, his influence persists in Molloy's early oeuvre, particularly in her exploration of “small pleasures” derived from literature as a personal, uncommitted pursuit. This nuanced analysis demonstrates Molloy's intellectual trajectory, wherein voyeurism, feminism, and queer theory intersect, allowing her to critically engage with both literary and autobiographical projects.
Moreover, Marta Sábado Novau (2018) investigates the relationship between psychoanalysis and literary criticism as articulated by Jean Starobinski. Rather than imposing a rigid methodology, Starobinski emphasizes sensitivity toward texts through the concept of “floating listening.” This approach balances the desire to see—often associated with control and interpretive violence—with the tranquility of listening, thereby fostering an organic emergence of meaning without preconceived notions. Starobinski's methodology resonates with psychoanalysis, thematic criticism, and Leo Spitzer's stylistics, collectively uncovering various textual dimensions: symptoms, themes, and linguistic gaps. He envisions stylistics as a convergence of phenomenology and psychoanalysis, advocating for a holistic approach to literary analysis. Central to Starobinski's philosophy is discernment, similar to diagnostic practices in psychoanalysis. Critics are encouraged to engage with texts as lived experiences, listening to the “body-text” to appreciate the complexity of voices within. This acknowledgment of uncertainty prompts critics to explore meaning without predetermined conclusions, as Starobinski cautions against rushing to interpretative conclusions—especially regarding clinical narratives of suicide. His concept of “dreaming thought” highlights the ethical dimension of criticism, wherein genuine engagement necessitates a transference relationship that allows the critic to be transformed by the work. In “Le voile de Poppée,” he elaborates on the relationship between the unconscious and textual structure, emphasizing that criticism, like psychoanalysis, should recognize its limits while striving for meaningful engagement.
The main gap related to literary voyeurism, based on the literature review, lies in the insufficient exploration of the legal and ethical responsibilities of the reader. While scholars have analyzed voyeurism in characters and narrative structures, they have not thoroughly examined how the reader's engagement in voyeurism parallels real-world legal frameworks. Specifically, there is a lack of analysis on whether the reader's position as an observer mirrors or contrasts with legal definitions of voyeurism, creating a critical gap in understanding the reader's legal and ethical accountability in literary voyeurism. The purpose of this article is to explore the dual nature of voyeurism in literature, specifically focusing on the distinction between the legitimate voyeurism of the reader and the illegitimate voyeurism of the character. By analyzing how voyeurism operates within the narrative, this research addresses the critical gap concerning the reader's legal and ethical responsibility in engaging with voyeuristic elements of a literary text. Drawing on both psychoanalytic and legal frameworks, the study argues that, much like in reality, the voyeurism performed by a character in a literary text is illegitimate because the literary text, which is a discourse that occupies a space revealing a mode of functioning analogous to that which defines human discourse (El Hajj, 2020), functions as a mediator of reality (Lacan, 1977). In contrast, the reader, who belongs to the real world and engages with the text from an external position, occupies a legitimate voyeuristic role. This duality—of legitimate and illegitimate voyeurism—underlines the complex relationship between the observer and the observed within literary works.
Illegitimate voyeurism of characters: Reflecting legal and ethical realities
Characters, though fictional constructs, are crafted to resemble human beings, often blurring the lines between imagination and reality. As Mieke Bal (2017) states, characters share human-like traits, enabling readers to see, feel, and emotionally engage with them. This engagement allows us to form connections, whether in the form of empathy, admiration, or even disdain. Characters, however, do not exist independently; their actions and experiences unfold within the structured space and time of the narrative, which functions as their world. Despite lacking real psyches, personalities, or independent wills, characters inhabit and experience events within the story as though they were living beings (Ricœur, 1984). This ontological construction fills them with enough humanity to permit psychological and ideological interpretations, as readers attribute intentionality to their actions (Phelan, 2005). Such attributes deepen our connection to them, allowing literary narratives to become mirrors of human existence. Phelan (2005) explains that “realistic fiction” aims to create the illusion that all narrative elements are mimetic and not artificially constructed. In this way, it strives to make it appear as though characters’ actions are motivated by their own choices, rather than being dictated by the author.
However, this mirroring between literary narratives and human existence also raises ethical and legal questions, particularly when characters engage in voyeuristic acts. Voyeurism, as understood through psychoanalytic theory, involves a desire to observe others without their consent, often for personal gratification. Voyeurs are “people who look on at excretory functions” (Freud, 1962: 157) and are “eager spectators of the processes of micturition and defaecation” (Freud, 1962: 192). When enacted by characters, voyeurism becomes a means to explore illegitimate actions within the text. These actions, though fictional, echo ethical and legal boundaries in reality. For instance, Wayne C. Booth (1983) argues that characters, though not real, are subject to the moral scrutiny readers impose, particularly when their actions transgress societal norms. Additionally, the narrative framing of voyeurism often amplifies its illegitimacy. Characters who spy on others or intrude upon their private lives violate not only the personal boundaries of other characters but also the implicit ethical framework of the narrative world. This tension is particularly evident in works like Marguerite Duras's The Ravishing of Lol V. Stein—which we discuss in a further section—where the protagonist's voyeuristic tendencies reflect an unethical appropriation of another's private experiences.
Moreover, characters’ engagement in voyeurism mirrors broader human behaviors and societal norms. While readers may empathize with their motivations, the illegitimacy of their actions underlines a critical ethical distinction: unlike the voyeuristic reader, who observes from outside the narrative with implicit permission, the voyeuristic character acts within the text's diegetic world, where such behaviors are presented as morally and legally indefensible. This distinction aligns with the concept of an unreliable narrator, as defined by Gerald Prince. An unreliable narrator is one “whose norms and behavior are not in accordance with the implied author's norms; […] whose values (tastes, judgments, moral sense) diverge from those of the implied author's; […]” (Prince, 2003: 103). Just as an unreliable narrator's perspective calls into question the truth of their account, the voyeuristic character's actions challenge moral and ethical norms within the narrative framework, reinforcing their illegitimacy.
Jacques Derrida's (1997) concepts of “presence” and “absence” expose both the visible act of voyeurism and the hidden, often transgressive desires that reinforce it. In Derridian terms, voyeurism inhabits the liminal space between presence and absence, functioning as a mechanism to reveal concealed elements—whether the suppressed desires of characters or the moral ambiguities of their actions. This process destabilizes textual meaning, as the voyeuristic gaze transcends simple observation to become an interpretive act that reveals obscured or repressed truths. Within this framework, “the spectator, presenting himself as spectacle; will no longer be either seer [voyant] or voyeur, will efface within himself the difference between the actor and the spectator, the represented and the representer, the object seen and the seeing subject” (Derrida, 1997: 306). As these oppositions resolve, presence takes on a new meaning—not as an external object of observation or an ideal form, but as an intimate self-presence characterized by profound self-sameness and inherent proximity. Furthermore, the voyeuristic gaze of characters can be explored through Derrida's deconstructive lens, particularly by examining the instability of moral and ethical boundaries that this gaze often produces. Derrida's concept of differance (the idea that meaning is always deferred and never fully present) can be applied to the voyeuristic act, where the ethical implications of characters’ voyeurism are not fixed but subject to constant reinterpretation. This is especially significant in literary texts, where the voyeuristic gaze destabilizes conventional subject–object relationships. Characters who engage in voyeurism are not only observing, but actively constructing meaning by their gaze, which reflects and deconstructs traditional binaries, such as subject/object and self/other (Derrida, 1978). For example, in Nabokov's Lolita, the protagonist Humbert Humbert is both a voyeur and a manipulator of meaning, constructing Dolores as both a subject of his gaze and an object of his desire. 1 This deconstruction complicates the reader's role, as the reader is invited to witness and interpret acts of voyeurism that challenge the conventional moral boundaries of literature. Moreover, Derrida's notion of witnessing brings an ethical dimension to the reader's engagement with voyeurism in literature. As readers, we are not passive onlookers but active participants in the ethical implications of what we observe. The act of witnessing, according to Derrida, is never neutral—it involves an ethical responsibility, as it requires not only observing but also deciding how to respond to what is witnessed (Derrida, 1995). In the following section, we explore the reader's role as a legitimate voyeur, examining how his/her position outside the narrative grants him/her an ethical dimension distinct from that of the characters within the text.
The reader as voyeur: Legitimacy and ethical boundaries
In her study on literary voyeurism, Elizabeth Gough (2004) does not limit the term to its psychoanalytic definition of deriving erotic satisfaction from secretly observing sexual acts. Instead, she expands the scope of voyeurism, defining it as “any kind of intense, hidden, or distant spying or gazing,” and even extending its meaning to “‘on the other side’ or ‘outside of’ in Spanish—suggesting a position beyond a divide” (Gough, 2004: 93). By spying on the characters from the other side of life, the reader develops empathy for them (Gough, 2004). However, if intense, hidden, or distant spying or gazing is considered a violation of a character's privacy, it must be noted that fictional characters—though they resemble real people—are not actual individuals. Therefore, how can breaching their privacy—an aspect created entirely by the author—be considered ethically wrong? This question does not, however, prevent us from categorizing certain types of fiction, such as pornography or works that glorify violence, as morally objectionable (Hawthorn, 2013). This raises a crucial dilemma: where do we draw the line between what is ethically permissible and impermissible in fictional scenarios, especially when similar actions involving real individuals would undoubtedly be regarded as unethical?
As readers and viewers, we engage with fictional narratives in nonreciprocal relationships, critiquing similar dynamics through inherently nonreciprocal forms (Hawthorn, 2014). In certain texts, the boundary between the fictional and nonfictional worlds is sharply defined, positioning us to observe and judge without being observed in return, much like a detective watching a suspect through one-way glass. Although both spies and voyeurs employ similar techniques of observation, they differ conceptually. A spy gathers information for external purposes, seeking data that can be commodified, while a voyeur seeks personal satisfaction, deriving value from the experience itself. The distinction between “secret” and “private” is crucial: the spy uncovers secrets through invasion, while the voyeur observes private moments to create a false sense of intimacy, often revealing secrets in the process (Hawthorn, 2014). In literary texts, the voyeuristic dynamic is reinforced by the deep access they provide to the characters’ inner lives, fostering a “compassionate intimacy” (translation of the author) (Jouve, 1992: 157) between the reader and the characters. This intimacy is further deepened by a physical closeness that reflects the origins of the voyeuristic drive, as described by Freudian psychoanalysis. Much like the primal scene, the literary text invites the reader to witness bodies that are both present and indifferent to our gaze (Jouve, 1992). While the reader's libido sciendi is most strongly engaged by erotic scenes, it is equally activated by criminal scenes. Since voyeurism is often linked to sexual or morbid themes—representing the two foundational forms of desire—it aligns with Jouve's definition of voyeurism as “the desire to know what happens behind closed doors” (translation of the author) (Jouve, 1992: 156). This voyeuristic drive is described by Jouve (1992) as the canonical form of libido sciendi and is inherent to the act of reading.
However, while the voyeuristic dynamic in literary texts places the reader in the role of an observer of characters’ most private moments, this role differs fundamentally from that of the characters within the narrative. As previously noted, characters who engage in voyeurism are typically depicted as transgressive, driven by desires or a quest for power, and their actions often constitute violations of privacy and ethical norms. These characters intrude into others’ lives without consent or awareness (Gough, 2004), frequently causing harm or discomfort to those they observe. In many literary works, such voyeuristic behavior crosses moral boundaries, such as invading private spaces or exploiting others’ vulnerabilities. In contrast, the reader's position as an observer is considered as legitimate, occurring within the consensual and ethical confines of fiction. The author deliberately constructs the narrative to invite the reader into the characters’ inner lives through narrative techniques like free indirect discourse or interior monolog (Cohn, 1978). This unique structure makes the act of reading fundamentally different from real-world voyeurism. As Cohn (1999) observes, exploring the consciousness of others is a hallmark of fiction; in reality, we can only infer mental states through outward behavior, while fiction allows us direct access to thoughts and perceptions. This access is granted without violating ethical boundaries, as the narrative is designed to engage the reader in a way that respects the fictional framework. While characters within the story may engage in morally questionable acts, the reader's observation is mediated by the conventions of storytelling, which are free from the self-serving motives of the characters (Hawthorn, 2013). Hawthorn notes, “When we enter the consciousness of a fictional character, we often do not feel that we are observing their private thoughts and feelings. Instead, we feel that we have become the observed person. […] Because we cannot invade our own privacy, we feel no guilt experiencing ‘being another person’ from the inside” (Hawthorn, 2013: 80). Moreover, in some instances, there is no guilt because the characters themselves are portrayed as deliberately revealing their thoughts to the reader (Hawthorn, 2013). Thus, the reader's engagement remains within the ethical framework established by the narrative, differentiating his/her role from the transgressions of the characters he/she observes.
The distinction between legitimate and illegitimate voyeurism is further emphasized by the contrasting power dynamics between the character and the reader. A character's voyeurism often arises from a power imbalance, where the observer exploits their position to control or manipulate the observed (Lacan, 1977). In contrast, the reader's voyeurism involves no such power over the characters. Instead, it represents an act of empathetic engagement, rooted in the reader's desire to understand and connect with the characters. This form of voyeurism is inherently nonexploitative, as it stems from intellectual and emotional curiosity rather than a wish to exert control or dominance (Gough, 2004). Additionally, the reader's voyeurism can be understood as a process of intellectual and emotional identification. By observing the private lives of the characters, the reader is invited to explore the hidden or suppressed dimensions of human experience. This act of identification enables the reader to gain insights into the complexities of human nature, often leading to introspection about their own values, desires, and ethical boundaries (Nussbaum, 1990). Consequently, the reader's voyeurism transcends simple observation; it becomes a pathway for self-exploration. Unlike the transgressive voyeurism of characters within the story, the reader's role is uniquely legitimate because it fosters growth and understanding rather than harm or exploitation, as is often the case with voyeuristic actions in real life (Hawthorn, 2014). Furthermore, the ethical distinction between the reader's and the character's voyeurism is grounded in the nature of fiction itself. In literary narratives, the characters’ experiences and private lives are intentionally created to serve the purpose of storytelling. The reader, therefore, is not intruding into the lives of real individuals but engaging with a fictional construct designed for observation, analysis, and interpretation (Jouve, 1992). As Hawthorn (2013) explains, readers do not feel guilt when accessing the private lives of literary characters because these characters, as fictional constructs, cannot be harmed. They exist in an ontologically separate domain, distinct from the real world, where ethical considerations typically focus on the impact of actions on living beings. There is no ethical breach when engaging with the private lives of literary characters, as they do not possess real existence or genuine privacy to be violated. This fictional context provides a safeguard, ensuring that the voyeurism inherent in reading is not only permissible but also an integral aspect of engaging with the text. As such, the reader's voyeurism is legitimized as a vital and enriching part of the literary experience, offering a unique opportunity for exploration and understanding (Hawthorn, 2013). To explore further the legitimacy and illegitimacy of literary voyeurism, we discuss, in the following section, the dual voyeurism in Marguerite Duras's The Ravishing of Lol V. Stein, focusing on the contrasting perspectives of the reader, the narrator, and Lol V. Stein herself.
The case of Lol V. Stein
The Ravishing of Lol V. Stein, published in 1964, opens with a ball scene at Town Beach, near South Tahla. Lola Valerie Stein, 19 years old, attends the ball accompanied by her fiancé, Michael Richardson. During the evening, he leaves her for another woman, Anne-Marie Stretter, a much older woman who has come to the ball with her daughter, the same age as Lol. Following this episode, Lol seems to temporarily lose her sanity, then appears to fully recover from her romantic disappointment. The reader meets her again ten years later when she returns to settle in South Tahla, now married and the mother of three children. She seems happy and appears to have—on the surface—forgotten the incident at Town Beach. However, she reconnects with Tatiana Karl, a childhood friend who stayed by her side throughout the ball (Duras, 1966). Lol's story is told in the third person by a narrator whose identity is initially unknown to the reader but is later revealed to be Jack Hold, Tatiana Karl's lover. The theme of the gaze is central to The Ravishing of Lol V. Stein: Jack Hold's constant gaze on Lol, Lol's gaze on the narrator, the relationship of gazes between the various characters, Lol's voyeurism, and the voyeur/viewed dialectic. It is through the gaze that the novel combines themes of desire, femininity, and madness. In this section, we discuss the layers of voyeurism in the novel: first, the voyeurism between the characters, and second, the reader's voyeurism. The latter shows the distinction between illegitimacy (as it occurs among the characters within the narrative) and legitimacy (as it applies to the reader engaging with the text).
As Ségeral (2024) argues, Duras uses voyeurism not simply as a theme, but as a structural principle of The Ravishing of Lol V. Stein, in which “the theme of the gaze is central” (translation of the author) (Ségeral, 2024: 142) and the layered dynamic of watching—between Jack Hold, Lol V. Stein, and the reader—generates a narrative of desire, detachment, and complicity. Notably, the reversal of this dynamic, when Lol V. Stein becomes the voyeur of Jack Hold and Tatiana Karl, signals Duras's subversion of the phallocentric gaze, where “Jac[k] Hold thus, in turn, becomes the object of Lol's gaze” (translation of the author) (Ségeral, 2024: 149). Meeting Tatiana Karl serves as an important trigger for Lol V. Stein. Tatiana Karl represents a connection to the traumatic event that profoundly shaped Lol's life—the night at the ball when Michael Richardson left her for Anne-Marie Stretter. Reconnecting with Tatiana Karl is not simply the revival of a childhood friendship but a reawakening of the narrative tied to Lol's past trauma. Tatiana Karl's presence acts as a powerful reminder of that defining moment and plays a central role in Lol's voyeuristic tendencies. Through her relationship with Tatiana Karl, Lol finds a pathway to reengage with her fragmented identity and long-repressed desires. Tatiana Karl's involvement with Jack Hold, who becomes the object of Lol's fixation, further intensifies this dynamic, deepening Lol's exploration of the gaze and her compulsive observation of others. What recurs for Lol as the focal point of her desire is not “a static triangle, with its unchanging repertoire of male and female participants” (Hill, 1993: 77)—as Lacan's reading would suggest—but rather “a dynamic, flickering scenario” (Hill, 1993: 77) in which roles are fluid and relationships continually shift. Her desire is oriented toward “an image, a scene” (Hill, 1993: 77) tied to the unfolding narrative of the ball, yet one that “refuses to be contained by it” (Hill, 1993: 77) and remains open to infinite repetition. This scene also comes to symbolize the limits of language in expressing “Lol's moment of happiness” (Hill, 1993: 77); yet paradoxically, it is precisely this “failure of speech” (Hill, 1993: 77) that enables Lol to reimagine her experience through what Duras evocatively names “le cinéma de Lol V. Stein” (Hill, 1993: 77). The allusion to cinema here captures a visual dimension that, by staging “the phenomenon of the apocalyptic half-light and the spectacle of the two lovers” (Hill, 1993: 77), preserves “the undecidable moment of fusion and separation” (Hill, 1993: 77–78) in a suspended, timeless way. Within this spectacle, Lol is not fixed in a specific role; rather, the ballroom scene dramatizes a broader theme of vision in the novel, where seeing is not about “voyeuristic control” (Hill, 1993: 78) but about an “erotic participation or identification” (Hill, 1993: 78), a fluctuating “interplay of proximity and distance” (Hill, 1993: 78) grounded in the ever-shifting “merging and coming apart of bodies.” Hill adds: This theme of looking is crucial in all Duras's work, where it is closely linked, as in the story of Lol, to questions both of fantasy and of sexual difference. In the scenario of the ball at T. Beach, there are many elements, for instance, which recall what in Freud is described as characteristic of the primal scene, those traumatic memories or fantasies of a child's first sight of adult sexual intercourse. Like a primal scene, the moment of T. Beach enacts or re-enacts in the form of a visual image what certainly functions for Lol like her first access to knowledge of sexual difference; it encrypts a fascinating secret, therefore, that has to do with fusion and separation, but the origins of that enigma are lost in a cycle of events in which each prior point is already a repetition of something else, just as the ball itself repeats Lol's dance in the school playground with Tatiana in the opening pages of the book. It operates, too, as a scenario of desire that is capable of perpetual repetition and constant expansion and is motivated less and less by the pursuit of sense, and increasingly by the condensations, displacements, and metamorphoses of desire itself. (Hill, 1993: 78)
Lol's voyeurism is not the only instance of voyeurism in the novel, as Jack Hold also engages in a form of voyeurism. However, Jack Hold asserts his power as the narrator of the novel through a combination of creation and a suffocating, voyeuristic gaze. In this context, Jack Hold's act of creation equates to possession. He admits to inventing his narrative about Lol, making it clear that he is the creator of their romance. We note the recurrence of the expression “I invent” (Duras, 1966: 31, 89, 90) five times in the novel. He also states by the end of the novel that he refuses to admit the end which is probably going to come and separate him and Lol, how easy it will be, how distressingly simple, and that for the moment he refuses to accept it, to accept this end, he accepts the other, which is “the end which has still to be invented, the end he does not yet know, that no one has invented: the endless end, the endless beginning of Lol Stein” (Duras, 1966: 108). What makes his creation so insidious is his voyeuristic gaze on Lol. His gaze places him physically close to her, which would be acceptable if he were only fantasizing about a fictional woman. However, his actions go beyond fantasy into voyeurism. His act of seeing is not only how he claims intimacy with Lol, but the very proximity he must maintain to observe her turns him into her oppressor. Through his gaze, Lol is never allowed to transcend her status as an object from Jack Hold's grandiose perspective. He attempts to imply that Lol reciprocates his feelings, claiming that they both engage in the gaze, thereby suggesting that she may, in fact, return his affection. The fact that Jack Hold speaks of himself in the third person reveals a fracture in his psyche, suggesting a narrative dislocation that mirrors his obsessive relationship with Lol (Ségeral, 2024). Lacan (1965) observes that Jack Hold becomes ravished by reinventing the ravishment of Lol, underscoring the extent to which possession in the novel resides not with Lol, but with Hold himself. His narrative is not about Lol as a subject but about his fixation on her, beginning with his attempt to reconstruct her past. In this context, Lol is reduced to a figure around which Hold builds his own fantasy. This narrative dislocation becomes particularly evident in the structural shifts of voice that occur as the novel progresses. Leslie Hill (1993) notes that as the narrative unfolds and the narrator is revealed to be Jack Hold, it may appear that he begins to assert greater control over the story. Yet this renewed authority proves unstable, as disruptions in the narrative structure persist into the latter half of the novel. Rather than resolving the ambiguity of the earlier sections, these disturbances deepen it. Even after his identification, Jack frequently slips from the position of narrator to that of a third-person character within the text. For example, during one of his usual meetings with Tatiana at the Forest Hotel, Jack notices—through the fading light of dusk—that Lol is silently watching them from outside. In that moment, the narrative abruptly shifts from first person to third, reflecting Jack's waning control and the increasing dominance of the “despotic” Lol. “Some pages later, a similar dissociation occurs, also under the influence of Lol's gaze, with Jack being referred to in the third person, while a first-person voice, that of the book's narrator—but somehow not the Jack of before—carries on narrating the text” (Hill, 1993: 69). Lacan further argues that Duras depicts Lol “as a non-gaze”; she is not the one who looks, “if only because she sees nothing” (translation of the author) (Lacan, 1965: 6–7).
Moreover, in Lol's earlier voyeuristic scene, Jack Hold has not yet been fully introduced to the reader. He narrates in the third person as he describes how Lol is following “a man” (him) to a hotel, where he is about to meet his lover. As Lol approaches the Forest Hotel, the location of the rendezvous, she spots Tatiana Karl (Duras, 1966). Jack Hold describes the scene with voyeuristic detail, focusing on how Lol watches as Tatiana Karl and her lover interact through the hotel window: In turn, Tatiana Karl, naked in her black hair, crosses the stage of light, slowly. It is perhaps in Lol's rectangle of vision that she pauses. She turns back to the room where the man presumably is. The window is small, and no doubt Lol can see only the upper part of the lovers’ bodies, from the waist up. Thus it is that she cannot see the full length of Tatiana's tresses. From this distance she cannot hear them when they talk. All she can see is their facial expressions—coinciding with the movements of parts of their bodies—which bespeak disenchantment. (Duras, 1966: 36) There is a choice seat waiting to be taken, a seat which she failed to have ten years before in Town Beach. But where? It can’t be compared to that opera seat in Town Beach. But what seat is it then? She will have to be content with this one so that, at last, she can make her way, move a step or two toward that distant bank upon which they, the others, dwell. Toward what? What is that bank? (Duras, 1966: 34)
Furthermore, Jack Hold's voyeurism extends beyond Lol and includes his gaze upon both Lol and Tatiana Karl. At a dinner party, he describes the event as if it were carefully staged. He strategically positions himself in the room, ensuring that he can observe Lol and Tatiana Karl's movements with ease. By doing so, he not only controls the narrative from a distance but also exerts his voyeuristic power over both women. His physical proximity allows him to monitor them, asserting his dominance over the situation as he watches, yet remains unseen himself: Lol is still stroking Tatiana's hair. At first she gazes at her intently, but then she is staring vacantly into space, she is stroking the way some blind person in search of her bearings might. Then it's Tatiana's turn to step back. Lol raises her eyes, and I can see her lips forming the name: Tatiana Karl. Her expression is tender, opaque. Her look, which was meant for Tatiana, falls upon me: she notices me outside the bay window. She shows no sign of emotion. Tatiana fails to notice anything. Lol moves forward, toward Tatiana, she comes back, puts her arm around her lightly and, without seeming to, leads her toward the French doors which open onto the grounds. She opens it. I see what she wants. I move forward, keeping to the wall. There. I’m at the corner of the house. From this point I can hear what they are saying. Suddenly, here are their voices, interwoven, tender, diluted by the night, similarly feminine voices which seem but one voice when they reach me. I can hear both of them. (Duras, 1966: 52–53)
Therefore, Jack Hold creates a voyeuristic world that he alone controls, one in which he and the reader are complicit. By crafting his narrative, he effectively strips Lol of her activity, rendering her a passive object for his observation and manipulation: The idea of what she is doing never crosses her mind. I still maintain that this is the first time, that she is there without the faintest idea of being there, that, if she were asked, she would simply say that she was resting. From the fatigue of getting there. From the fatigue that will follow. From the necessity of returning. Living, dying, she breathes deeply, tonight the air is like honey, cloyingly sweet. She does not even question the source of the wonderful weakness which has brought her to lie in this field. She lets it act upon her, fill her until she thinks she will suffocate, lets it lull her roughly, pitilessly, until Lol Stein is fast asleep. (Duras, 1966: 35) The act of seeing thus conflates the image of the scene of desire with the metaphor of an originary loss. In other words, the moment of ravishment is reached through a movement of renunciation of all first-person will, in order to embrace another will—a narcissistic will—intimately tied to the quest for the self as an Other within oneself, for the Other as the Same—which rejects the law of the object and tends toward a fundamental tendency of being to remain within its own being. (Translation of the author) (Léopold, 2008: 164)
Additionally, the portrayal of Lol as a passive subject, caught in the web of Jack Hold's gaze, not only highlights her objectification within the narrative but also serves to position the reader within this voyeuristic framework. As Lol surrenders to the forces acting upon her, her activity is taken away, aligning her with the passive role that Jack Hold imposes on her. In turn, this dynamic establishes a world in which we, the readers, share in his gaze, aligning us with his voyeurism. However, the reader's position in the narrative goes beyond pure complicity; it involves a multilayered voyeuristic experience. The first act of voyeurism arises with Lol herself, as she becomes an observer of Jack Hold and Tatiana Karl, fixating on their intimate moments. The second act of voyeurism is Jack Hold's gaze upon Lol, which further objectifies her and perpetuates the narrative's power dynamics. Finally, the reader is drawn into a third act of voyeurism, not only observing the characters’ interactions but also engaging in the act of observing the observers—Lol and Jack Hold. This complex layering positions the reader as a legitimate voyeur of illegitimate voyeurs, a unique duality that emphasizes the ethical and psychological complexity of the narrative. By engaging with this structure, the reader witnesses not only the characters’ actions but also the mechanisms of power, observation, and control at play within the text. This layered voyeurism challenges the boundary between the observer and the observed, implicating the reader in the same cycles of domination and power. Lacan's homage to The Ravishing of Lol V. Stein asserts that “Marguerite Duras turns out to know what I teach without me” (translation of the author) (Lacan, 1965: 10), a formulation which, as Lydon (1988) points out, emphasizes that Duras reveals a knowledge of psychoanalytic truth unconsciously, without explicit theoretical instruction. This idea resonates with the structure of the novel, in which Lol's identity is shaped less by action or agency than by her inscription within a symbolic order that precedes her. Lydon (1988) notes that both Lacan and Duras privilege “the practice of the letter” (Lydon, 1988: 355) as the site where the unconscious reveals itself—suggesting that Lol's passivity and fragmentation emerge not from psychological deficiency but from the structuring effects of language and the symbolic. As such, Duras's writing enacts what Lacan calls “the convergence of literary practice with the modus operandi of the unconscious” (Lydon, 1988: 356), reinforcing the idea that voyeurism in the novel operates not only thematically but also structurally, constituting the very condition of subjectivity. As for the reader, he/she occupies a liminal space, simultaneously external to and complicit in the text's exploration of voyeuristic dynamics. This complex framing raises pressing legal and ethical questions, compelling readers to reflect on the implications of engaging with voyeuristic themes in literature. In the following section, we explore the legal and ethical implications of engaging in voyeurism in literature, considering how these concerns extend to broader debates on the relationship between literature and reality.
Legal and ethical implications of voyeurism in literature
Building on our previous analysis of the layered voyeurism in The Ravishing of Lol V. Stein, we conclude that the gaze in the novel—both the characters’ and the reader's—is symbolic of a voyeur who does not only look but rather recognizes and invents the world (Bauchau, 2012). Marguerite Duras evokes guilt and complicity in her readers, drawing them into the narrative's voyeuristic dynamic. Unlike traditional voyeuristic practices, where the voyeur does not interact with the subject, who is often unaware of being observed, The Ravishing of Lol V. Stein deviates from this paradigm by establishing itself as a fiction within a fiction. Lol is not simply a character in the novel but becomes a character within Jack Hold's narrative, mediated through his perspective. The reader, therefore, is doubly removed, observing Lol through Jack Hold's voyeuristic gaze, which adds another layer of complexity to the act of reading. This structure implicates the reader not only as a voyeur of the narrative but also as a witness to a fiction constructed within the fiction itself.
Additionally, Jack Hold's narration includes Lol's voyeuristic observation of his lovemaking with Tatiana Karl, making the reader complicit in multiple layers of observation. Moreover, Lol, who observes the lovemaking scene, is unaware that Jack Hold is conscious of her act of voyeurism. This dynamic suggests that Jack Hold is not simply a voyeur but also an exhibitionist, as he is aware of Lol's presence during this intimate act, noting that “[e]very active perversion is thus accompanied by its passive counterpart: anyone who is an exhibitionist in his unconscious is at the same time a voyeur” (Freud, 1962: 167). Consequently, Jack Hold emerges as a psychologically disturbed character, exhibiting a combination of narcissistic, voyeuristic, and exhibitionist tendencies. The reader, in turn, becomes an observer of Jack Hold's construction of Lol, engaging with a representation of a subject whose identity is mediated and transformed within his gaze.
As Freud (1962) notes, voyeurism dehumanizes its subject, reducing it to an artificially constructed image in the voyeur's consciousness. Lol, for instance, appears to have lost her identity, as no one recognizes her in South Tahla, and her walks must have gone unnoticed (Duras, 1966). She exists in a state of depersonalization and “incognito,” embodying otherness and becoming a character in the fiction created by the spectator-narrator, Jack Hold. This depersonalization forms a representation that is elusive, disconcerting, and sustained by the voyeur's projections. A visual hallucination ultimately integrates other sensory experiences (auditory, tactile, etc.), disrupting a typically calm symbolic framework and manifesting the subject's desire. To the absent object, a sign; to the desire for this absence, a visual hallucination (Kristeva, 1982). As Julia Kristeva (1982) observes, voyeurism serves as a structural necessity in the formation of relationships. At its core, voyeurism is rooted in a profound sense of lack that destabilizes identity. This destabilization can lead to perverse behaviors. According to Kristeva (1982), voyeurism accompanies the writing of abjection. It materializes when the object of desire fluctuates toward the abject and becomes true perversion only when the subject fails to symbolize the instability of the subject-object dynamic. In Jack Hold's case, his voyeuristic and exhibitionist tendencies represent this failure, revealing the paradoxical transformation of voyeurism into perversion as an unsuccessful attempt to reassure against the object's (Lol's) potential destruction.
Moreover, the relationship between fetishism and voyeurism highlights their shared psychological roots. Voyeurism often seeks to mend the “wound” inflicted upon primary narcissism, using a specular double as a stabilizing mechanism for narcissistic organization (Bouchet-Kervella and Janin-Oudinot, 2012), as in the case of Jack Hold. Freud (1962) highlights the role of the eye as the erogenous zone most distanced from the sexual object, rendering it both a fetishized object and a voyeuristic operator. This duality is further reflected in the concept of Schaulust—scopophilic pleasure—which includes the enjoyment derived from both looking and being observed. The etymology of Schaulust (where schauen means “to look” and die Schau means “to show”) condenses this duality, perfectly exemplified by Jack Hold's exhibitionistic awareness during his acts of voyeurism. Thus, the involvement of both the characters and the reader in this human obsession with the boundaries of perception compels us to question the legitimacy of voyeurism for the reader. If the reader is deemed a legitimate voyeur of the characters’ actions in a literary work, does this legitimacy persist when the reader becomes complicit in the characters’ voyeuristic acts? This question becomes particularly significant in The Ravishing of Lol V. Stein, where the reader is drawn into the layered voyeurism of the narrative, observing not only the characters but also the fiction constructed by Jack Hold.
According to Jean Bellemin-Noel (2003), reading a literary work must itself be a literary reading. In other words, active reading does not just receive information or meaning passively. To read in this productive and almost creative way is to inscribe within oneself and claim as one's own—almost as if one had invented it oneself—that which the writer has expressed. It is, in a sense, to rewrite the work in question within oneself. Put another way, it is to cowrite the work. Thus, reading a piece conceived and written by an author, the reader cooperates in the birth of that piece. The object and result of this collaboration is precisely what we call a text. The latter is a living discourse, but one that has two important characteristics: the first is that it is shared by the author and the reader (who brings it to life through the act of reading); the second is that while there is only one work, there are as many texts as there are readings. Therefore, the reader becomes a collaborator of the author in writing the text, and the characters become his/her own characters, not just as entities created by the author but as figures shaped by the reader's gaze and interpretation. This collaborative act inherently involves an observational dynamic where the reader engages with the narrative and its characters as a form of legitimate voyeurism. In this sense, the reader's active and creative participation mirrors the act of watching, where their gaze breathes life into the text and renders its unfolding meaningful. Through this process, as seen in The Ravishing of Lol V. Stein, the reader is drawn into the layered structure of the narrative, observing Lol through the perspective of Jack Hold while simultaneously rewriting the text. The reader's voyeurism, therefore, is legitimized by his/her cocreative role, even as he/she becomes complicit in the voyeuristic acts depicted within the narrative, revealing a complex connection between observation, interpretation, and creation.
However, the literary text has an unconscious, that of the author who contributed to its genesis and that of the reader who transforms it through reading and re-reading (Bellemin-Noël, 1996). Following this thought, the text is conceived as a fragment of desire, whose materiality is finite and whose meaning is never complete (El Hajj, 2020). The text acquires its unconscious functioning only through and for someone. At this level, we speak of pretext and text. The former consists of repressed desires in the unconscious state and at the stage of prewriting, while the latter involves concretizing and fantasizing these desires, as well as their representation to another—the reader. At the moment of writing, the writer “performs laboriously to the extent that he struggles with language to express himself, to pull out something that ‘matters to him’, to find the form capable of taking on what seemed impossible to express and what cannot be expressed in any other way” (Bellemin-Noël, 2002: 69). The text requires unconscious movements from both the author and the reader and becomes imbued with an unspoken element that is colored by esthetic processes and the musical rhythms of the words. In front of a text, the reader seems to find him/herself face to face with a dream, even a daydream that the author has entrusted to him/her (El Hajj, 2020). Therefore, the reader, as a coauthor of the text, is not just invited by the author to watch the characters’ actions, but also to actively shape those actions through his/her own interpretation. The text then becomes a shared creation, combining the fantasies and desires of both the author and the reader. This collaboration makes the reader's voyeurism legitimate, as he/she plays an essential role in developing the narrative. In this relationship, the reader's voyeurism is not simply about passively observing; it is an active involvement in the unfolding of the story. The reader does not just watch the characters—he/she helps “write” them by interpreting their actions. So, while the reader's voyeurism is legitimate, it becomes part of a bigger, shared voyeuristic experience of all the readers who contribute their own interpretations. This interaction of observing, creating, and desiring places the reader not only as a spectator but as a cowriter, rewriting the story within him/herself and blending his/her desires with those of the author. In this way, the voyeurism of the reader creates a deeper, more complex engagement with the text, turning observation into a creative, interpretive act. Moreover, what makes the reader's voyeurism legitimate is that the invasion of the characters’ private lives can never be exposed to them or anyone else in the story's world. Unlike most instances of spying or voyeurism in the real world, readers are shielded from any backlash or indignation from those they observe (Hawthorn, 2013).
Conclusion
The Ravishing of Lol V. Stein explores the dynamics of voyeurism, framing it as a multifaceted act that transcends the boundaries of the characters’ experiences and extends to the reader's engagement with the text. Through the layered perspectives of Lol, Jack Hold, and the reader, Marguerite Duras complicates the traditional voyeuristic dynamic by inviting the reader into a world where gazes are not only exchanged but also constructed and controlled. Lol's voyeurism emerges as both a response to her trauma and a mechanism through which she attempts to reclaim action in the face of her own disempowerment. Simultaneously, Jack Hold's role as both the narrator and participant in this voyeuristic cycle establishes him as a figure of control, manipulating the narrative to objectify Lol while also projecting his own desires onto her. His actions echo a profound psychological complexity, combining narcissism, voyeurism, and exhibitionism. The novel's structure, which places the reader in a position of complicity, forces an ethical reckoning. By positioning the reader as a participant in this voyeuristic act, Duras raises important questions about the role of literature in the construction of desire, power, and identity. The reader, while external to the narrative, is complicit in its unfolding, implicated not only in the voyeuristic gazes of the characters but also in the ethical dilemma of engaging in such dynamics. The novel thus questions the ethical and psychological implications of voyeurism in literature, challenging the reader to confront the complexities of observation, power, and objectification, and to reflect on the boundaries between fiction and reality. The relationship between the reader's and characters’ voyeurism creates a rich, unsettling space that invites introspection into the nature of desire and the human need for control over the other. Ultimately, The Ravishing of Lol V. Stein highlights the unsettling effects of voyeurism as both a narrative tool and a psychological phenomenon, leaving readers to seize the implications of their own complicity in the text's voyeuristic gaze.
Based on the current analysis of dual voyeurism in literary texts, it is noteworthy to recommend that future research explores the intersection of literary voyeurism with digital media and contemporary virtual spaces. As digital literature, web-based storytelling, and interactive narratives gain prominence, the role of the reader as a voyeur is likely to evolve. Future studies could investigate how the boundaries between the reader and the text become increasingly blurred in digital environments, particularly in interactive or immersive media, where the act of observation may take on new dimensions. This research could further explore how these shifts challenge or reinforce traditional ethical and legal perspectives on voyeurism, especially in relation to privacy, consent, and the responsibility of the reader. Moreover, scholars could examine how the consumption of voyeuristic content on online platforms—such as social media, streaming services, or virtual reality—mirrors or distorts real-world legal frameworks, offering new insights into the ethical implications of modern forms of observation and engagement in virtual contexts.
Footnotes
Declaration of conflicting interest
The author has no conflicts of interest to declare that are relevant to the content of this article.
Funding
The author disclosed receipt of the following financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article: The OA publication of the article has been funded by Qatar Foundation.
