Or is there even any difference between hommage and pastiche?
The earliest example of literary pastiche I can think of is Ulysses by James Joyce, which contains huge globs of it. Why did Joyce do that anyway? Just to show that he could?
I’m starting to aspire to be a writer, and this is a question I have to confront. In defense of my last story, all I can say is the story told me it wanted to be written in pastiche. It insisted. I had doubts but went ahead. Was I a fool for listening to it?
I think sometimes there’s a compulsion to do things to please yourself. I don’t think Joyce was showing off, he was just working through an idea.
Ulysses is more than simple pastiche, it’s an attempt to show a sort of multiplicity of perception. You’ve got the same things viewed through different eyes, or viewed again through the same eyes in different circumstances, and everything is profoundly different. Each chapter is more than just an exercise in a different literary technique, it has layers of adjustable parameters.
Going from the dispassionate scientific catechism of Bloom and Stephen coming back to Bloom’s house and having their quiet conversation in “Ithaca” to Molly’s earthy stream-of-consciousness monologue in “Penelope” is a pleasant contrast. If he’d stuck with either mode for a whole novel it’d have gotten a bit tedious, though.
I think homage is totally different. There’s a big difference between a technique and a personal style. When Robert Anton Wilson does whole chapters of Joycean prose in his Illuminatus! books, that’s homage. When he does the Flann O’Brien thing and includes an entire subplot about the metaphysical life of a certain De Selby in the footnotes of one of his books, that’s homage.
Personally, I think it’s difficult to play around with multiple techniques and not come off as pretentious. Most times, I want to thump writers for just shifting between voices.
Hey, great example. Wilson does it so well. I liked the part where he replicated Molly Bloom’s interior monologue by a black woman coming down from an acid trip, and when she faces the reality of the system, she concludes with No’s replacing Molly’s Yeses.
Joyce’s layers of pastiche served as additional letters of metaphor besides; they were not hollow exercises.
In any case, I use the word *homage *to describe a nod to a particular artist; pastiche, to me, is imitation of a particular style or genre. I’m not sure they’re terribly different, but that’s how I use the words. I suppose *homage *carries a connotation of tribute, while *pastiche *not so much; more plain imitation, without the connotation of tribute. I think of *pastiche *as neutral as far as connotation, but I wouldn’t necessarily avoid it to describe imitation that carries a note of ridicule; I’d never use *homage *in that case.
Also, an homage can be something other than imitation; it can be an oblique reference.
Of course, there’s no hard and fast definition. A pastiche (which is fairly rare) is usually meant to be a long work that captures the essence of a particular story or type of story.
For instance, August Derleth’s “Solar Pons” short stories were written as pastiches of Sherlock Holmes, with pharagraps like this:
The words could very much have come from Holmes, and the Pons mysteries are much like Holmes.
In addition, a pastiche is the opposite of a parody: you are imitating the style/structure/story of a well-known work in order to show your admiration for the subject instead of showing how ridiculous it is (as in parody).
An homage is usually a short reference to the original. It really doesn’t apply to an entire story. Thus having a character put on a deerstalker cap or mentioning the Reichenbach Falls would be an homage to Holmes.
Usually, movies use homages as jokes. The Shrek films are full of them. For instance, when Fiona jumps and freezes in midair, it’s an homage to The Matrix. Or, more seriously, in Breathless, Jean-Paul Belmondo looks at a photo of Humprey Bogart and says “Bogie,” an hommage to the actor and the type of film that influenced the movie.
There are also in-jokes that refer to other films, like Cary Grant mentioning “Archie Leach” in several films, or the MAS*H poster in Brewster McCloud. The difference is that an in-joke usually refers to something about the actor and his roles (again, in Brewster McCloud, Margaret Hamilton is shown wearing ruby slippers) as opposed to an actual fictional work in an homage.