A substantial work in every sense of the word, Goulven Oiry’s nearly 800-page study of the relationship between the city and French comic theater between 1550 and 1650 represents a significant contribution to early modern scholarship—not only for its focus on an otherwise overlooked corpus, but also for the author’s illuminating, interdisciplinary approach. Drawing on anthropological concepts of the city, which he adeptly integrates into more traditional styles of literary criticism and historicism, Oiry demonstrates how an emerging urban culture influenced theatrical comedy in the period and how that comedy depicted, questioned, and affirmed societal power structures.

Oiry’s argument is complex—at times unnecessarily so—though the thesis may be simply stated: there was a fundamental and formative relationship between a certain concept of the city and theatrical comedy produced in the late sixteenth century and first half of the seventeenth century, which, as the author emphasizes, includes both the end of the Renaissance and the Wars of Religion. What makes this a particularly intriguing argument is not the manner in which the city is portrayed in the comedies of the time or how authorities gradually restricted potentially subversive theatrical representations to the designated and therefore controllable spaces of newly built theaters, though Oiry competently treats both of those subjects and many others relating to the evolution of theater. Rather, it is the analogy that Oiry draws between the concentric protected spaces of the city, the home, and the female body—specifically that of the maiden daughter—that forms the most compelling premise of the larger argument. This permits the author to draw a further analogy between the siege of a city, a common event in the religious wars, and the efforts of a young lover trying to penetrate the protective boundaries of a family’s home and seduce the young woman living there: the common trope of comic theater. This latter analogy produces the subtitle of the book: “Iliade” parodique (Parodic Iliad). Unfortunately, the reader is left to wonder about this significant reference until page 423.

A first look at the table of contents is sufficient to realize that the work came out of a French doctoral dissertation. The research is uncommonly thorough and the theoretical apparatus exceptionally well developed, both natural consequences of the long, deliberative dissertation process. It should also be noted that Oiry’s 2012 dissertation was supervised by the respected scholar of Renaissance satire Pascal Debailly, whose influence is discernible throughout. Alongside these positive characteristics of an adapted dissertation are some negative ones. For example, Oiry alternates between appearing overly deferential to established scholars and overly dismissive of them; it sometimes seems as though the author does not recognize the strength of his own argument and thus opts for such extremes. Related to this, the profuse citation of comparable, substantiating examples from the admittedly impressive corpus that he has assembled—fifty-two plays—is at times tedious; where one or two detailed references might suffice, the author frequently uses four or more. The greatest weakness of the work, however, results directly from the French dissertation style: the work reads as three separate, albeit related, books. The first part, or “act,” as Oiry playfully titles them, focuses on the city as portrayed in and influencing the evolution of comic theater in the period; the second part explores the theatricality of city life. It is not until the third part that these ideas are brought together under the overarching thesis—which is only revealed at that point, some two-thirds of the way through—and the insightful analogy between experiences of war and theatrical depictions of seduction is laid out. That being said, each part is, in its own right, an impressive work of scholarship.

In spite of these weaknesses, I unreservedly recommend Oiry’s excellent work to anyone studying the comedy of the period, the history of theater, or early modern urban culture—though I might suggest reading the epilogue first, so as to begin with an idea of where the argument will lead.