viewpoints.” That is to say, Rabelais is a scholastic in his 
mosaic procedures, consciously juxtaposing this ancient 
farrago with the new individual single-point-of-view technology 
of print. Like the poet John Skelton at the same time in 
England, of whom C. S. Lewis writes, “Skelton has ceased to be 
a man and become a mob,” (46) Rabelais is a collective rout of 
oral schoolmen and glossators suddenly debouched into a 
visual world newly set up on individualist and nationalist lines. It 
is just the incongruity of these two worlds as they mix and 
mingle in the very language of Rabelais that gives us a special 
feeling of his relevance for us, who also live ambivalently in 
divided and distinguished cultures. Two cultures or technologies 
can, like astronomical galaxies, pass through one another 
without collision; but not without change of configuration. In 
modern physics there is, similarly, the concept of “interface” or 
the meeting and metamorphosis of two structures. Such