The Nonlinear Library LW - Excerpts from "A Reader's Manifesto" by Arjun Panickssery
Sep 7, 2024
21:01
Welcome to The Nonlinear Library, where we use Text-to-Speech software to convert the best writing from the Rationalist and EA communities into audio. This is: Excerpts from "A Reader's Manifesto", published by Arjun Panickssery on September 7, 2024 on LessWrong.
"A Reader's Manifesto" is a July 2001 Atlantic piece by B.R. Myers that I've returned to many times. He complains about the inaccessible pretension of the highbrow literary fiction of his day. The article is mostly a long list of critiques of various quotes/passages from well-reviewed books by famous authors. It's hard to accuse him of cherry-picking since he only targets passages that reviewers singled out as unusually good.
Some of his complaints are dumb but the general idea is useful: authors try to be "literary" by (1) avoiding a tightly-paced plot that could evoke "genre fiction" and (2) trying to shoot for individual standout sentences that reviewers can praise, using a shotgun approach where many of the sentences are banal or just don't make sense.
Here are some excerpts of his complaints. Bolding is always mine.
The "Writerly" Style
He complains that critics now dismiss too much good literature as "genre" fiction.
More than half a century ago popular storytellers like Christopher Isherwood and Somerset Maugham were ranked among the finest novelists of their time, and were considered no less literary, in their own way, than Virginia Woolf and James Joyce. Today any accessible, fast-moving story written in unaffected prose is deemed to be "genre fiction" - at best an excellent "read" or a "page turner," but never literature with a capital L.
An author with a track record of blockbusters may find the publication of a new work treated like a pop-culture event, but most "genre" novels are lucky to get an inch in the back pages of The New York Times Book Review.
The dualism of literary versus genre has all but routed the old trinity of highbrow, middlebrow, and lowbrow, which was always invoked tongue-in-cheek anyway. Writers who would once have been called middlebrow are now assigned, depending solely on their degree of verbal affectation, to either the literary or the genre camp.
David Guterson is thus granted Serious Writer status for having buried a murder mystery under sonorous tautologies (Snow Falling on Cedars, 1994), while Stephen King, whose Bag of Bones (1998) is a more intellectual but less pretentious novel, is still considered to be just a very talented genre storyteller.
Further, he complains that fiction is regarded as "literary" the more slow-paced, self-conscious, obscure, and "writerly" its style.
The "literary" writer need not be an intellectual one. Jeering at status-conscious consumers, bandying about words like "ontological" and "nominalism," chanting Red River hokum as if it were from a lost book of the Old Testament: this is what passes for profundity in novels these days. Even the most obvious triteness is acceptable, provided it comes with a postmodern wink.
What is not tolerated is a strong element of action - unless, of course, the idiom is obtrusive enough to keep suspense to a minimum. Conversely, a natural prose style can be pardoned if a novel's pace is slow enough, as was the case with Ha Jin's aptly titled Waiting, which won the National Book Award (1999) and the PEN/Faulkner Award (2000).
If the new dispensation were to revive good "Mandarin" writing - to use the term coined by the British critic Cyril Connolly for the prose of writers like Virginia Woolf and James Joyce - then I would be the last to complain. But what we are getting today is a remarkably crude form of affectation: a prose so repetitive, so elementary in its syntax, and so numbing in its overuse of wordplay that it often demands less concentration than the average "genre" novel.
4 Types of Bad Prose
Then he has five sections complaining about 4 different types of prose he doesn't like (in addition to the generic "literary" prose): "evocative" prose, "muscular"...
"A Reader's Manifesto" is a July 2001 Atlantic piece by B.R. Myers that I've returned to many times. He complains about the inaccessible pretension of the highbrow literary fiction of his day. The article is mostly a long list of critiques of various quotes/passages from well-reviewed books by famous authors. It's hard to accuse him of cherry-picking since he only targets passages that reviewers singled out as unusually good.
Some of his complaints are dumb but the general idea is useful: authors try to be "literary" by (1) avoiding a tightly-paced plot that could evoke "genre fiction" and (2) trying to shoot for individual standout sentences that reviewers can praise, using a shotgun approach where many of the sentences are banal or just don't make sense.
Here are some excerpts of his complaints. Bolding is always mine.
The "Writerly" Style
He complains that critics now dismiss too much good literature as "genre" fiction.
More than half a century ago popular storytellers like Christopher Isherwood and Somerset Maugham were ranked among the finest novelists of their time, and were considered no less literary, in their own way, than Virginia Woolf and James Joyce. Today any accessible, fast-moving story written in unaffected prose is deemed to be "genre fiction" - at best an excellent "read" or a "page turner," but never literature with a capital L.
An author with a track record of blockbusters may find the publication of a new work treated like a pop-culture event, but most "genre" novels are lucky to get an inch in the back pages of The New York Times Book Review.
The dualism of literary versus genre has all but routed the old trinity of highbrow, middlebrow, and lowbrow, which was always invoked tongue-in-cheek anyway. Writers who would once have been called middlebrow are now assigned, depending solely on their degree of verbal affectation, to either the literary or the genre camp.
David Guterson is thus granted Serious Writer status for having buried a murder mystery under sonorous tautologies (Snow Falling on Cedars, 1994), while Stephen King, whose Bag of Bones (1998) is a more intellectual but less pretentious novel, is still considered to be just a very talented genre storyteller.
Further, he complains that fiction is regarded as "literary" the more slow-paced, self-conscious, obscure, and "writerly" its style.
The "literary" writer need not be an intellectual one. Jeering at status-conscious consumers, bandying about words like "ontological" and "nominalism," chanting Red River hokum as if it were from a lost book of the Old Testament: this is what passes for profundity in novels these days. Even the most obvious triteness is acceptable, provided it comes with a postmodern wink.
What is not tolerated is a strong element of action - unless, of course, the idiom is obtrusive enough to keep suspense to a minimum. Conversely, a natural prose style can be pardoned if a novel's pace is slow enough, as was the case with Ha Jin's aptly titled Waiting, which won the National Book Award (1999) and the PEN/Faulkner Award (2000).
If the new dispensation were to revive good "Mandarin" writing - to use the term coined by the British critic Cyril Connolly for the prose of writers like Virginia Woolf and James Joyce - then I would be the last to complain. But what we are getting today is a remarkably crude form of affectation: a prose so repetitive, so elementary in its syntax, and so numbing in its overuse of wordplay that it often demands less concentration than the average "genre" novel.
4 Types of Bad Prose
Then he has five sections complaining about 4 different types of prose he doesn't like (in addition to the generic "literary" prose): "evocative" prose, "muscular"...