I had another post planned for today, but it requires research and logic and thought, and as it happens I got horribly sick this weekend—just a gastric virus, nothing fatal (though for about twelve hours there death seemed preferable)—and, as this is the second weekend I've come down with a stomach bug, I just don't have the energy to pull that off. Instead I'm just going to write about a pleasant trend I've noticed lately ... but with a caveat.
The pleasant trend is that more and more serious literary writers are creating adults novels that read like childhood adventure stories. I really enjoy these romps, which bring with them that all-encompassing joy of nights spent under the covers with a flashlight, tearing through Joan Aiken's The Wolves of Willoughby Chase or Susan Cooper's The Dark is Rising series.
Three that come to mind most readily are Donna Tartt's The Goldfinch, Neil Gaiman's The Ocean at the End of the Lane, and Chang-Rae Lee's On Such a Full Sea. (That last book I just finished this afternoon, as I lay half-dead on the sofa, willing my mind to escape my body.) Not surprisingly, all three books follow the escapades of a young teenager, an ordinary kid who finds himself or herself in extraordinary circumstances. Adolescence feels so surreal and bizarre anyway, it's a natural landscape for this sort of story. All three novels infuse the confusion of pubescence with the atmosphere of an even earlier bit of youth: Lee's novel, for example, often reads like a Grimm Brothers fairy tale, in the best possible sense. One character stumbles from what feels like an idyllic reprieve scene into a field of human bones, turning to find a child "with a wide skewed smile, which was not for Fan but for the rest of her family, who were now out in the clearing and heading toward them in a pointed mass ... The biggest boys carried machetes." Some will shudder, of course, but I adore this sort of thing. The Juniper Tree, anyone?
The Goldfinch is the story of a teenage boy who loses his mother to a terrorist bombing and finds himself the possessor and protector of a prized painting that soon becomes his most beloved treasure ... and a terrible burden. What I loved about this story was the way Tartt just threw herself into making the boy's life utterly colorful, with no restraint. Restraint was quite popular for a long time in literary fiction. Reality was parceled out parsimoniously, always in shades of sombre grey. I can appreciate that mode of writing, but I am loving this meaty, full-fat version of fiction, bursting with fervid imagination.
Imagination is at its fullest with Gaiman's The Ocean At the End of the Lane. Perhaps because Gaiman doesn't wear the mantle of "literary star," (unlike Tartt and Lee) he can do whatever he wants. So this slim novel plunges us right into fantasyland. It could almost be classified as YA except that the beginning and end of the book anchor it as intended for adults. (Not to mention one discomfiting scene in the middle, involving the father and the wicked witch.)
And that brings us to the caveat: all three books are strongest in the middle, where they allow themselves to fully plunge into the adventure story. But because the authors want to be taken seriously as writers of adult literary fiction, they laden a bit too much exposition into the story. In Tartt's case it's really egregious, as she takes the last ten percent of her novel to do nothing but think deep thoughts via her protagonist. (It's not even plausible that the protag would think such thoughts—it's obviously Tartt speaking.) Lee sprinkles his deep thoughts throughout On Such a Full Sea, in aphorisms I'm sure were highlighted hundreds of times by Kindle users. The philosophy these authors share is explicit, heavy-handed, and not especially original. Authors of fiction who think they're doing philosophy should really let it come through in the story. "Show, don't tell" applies as much to philosophy as anything else. Authors who want to take part in the laudable trend of adventure stories for adults might want to look to Gaiman for guidance: he seems to understand, better than most, that just because you're writing for adults doesn't mean you have to be boring.
I've heard a lot of talk about The Goldfinch lately, but I had no idea the protagonist was a teenager. I've been a little discouraged by its size, though. :) Isn't it interesting how adults are still interested in the lives of teenagers? I think it's that whole nostalgia thing or what Christa talked about in my interview, all those possibilities, like coming-of-age films and TV shows (i just discovered Freaks and Geeks and I'm totally hooked!)
ReplyDelete"The philosophy these authors share is explicit, heavy-handed, and not especially original. Authors of fiction who think they're doing philosophy should really let it come through in the story."
This is interesting. Could you expand a little bit?
Ooo, I love Freaks and Geeks!
Delete"The philosophy these authors share is explicit, heavy-handed, and not especially original. Authors of fiction who think they're doing philosophy should really let it come through in the story."
DeleteExpanding on this: I think most literary books are inherently a bit philosophical. They're grounded in an ideological viewpoint, they intend to make the reader think. (As opposed to merely entertaining the reader.) The philosophy should be played out in the story, though, instead of spelled out explicitly by the narrator. In the Goldfinch, Tartt raises some ideas about free will and identity, which is most interesting when she puts it into play via the protagonist. As you follow his life and his choices, you start to see the philosophical picture Tartt is painting. But then at the end, she just spells it out. She turns into a professor lecturing on her own book. It's boring and redundant, and it's kind of patronizing as well—as if she doesn't trust us to get it without her help.
PS. Hope you're feeling better!
ReplyDeleteI am, thank you!
DeleteOkay, so I'm not sure I understand. These books, although they have adolescent or teenage protagonists, are not considered YA simply because the authors' other works are considered adult literary fiction? So, does that mean a YA author can't write a book a little more literary with the young protagonists and have it considered adult fiction instead? I find the line between YA and adult fiction to be fuzzier and fuzzier all the time. I mean, who makes the rules for these books? I've heard YA authors speak about how anything goes anymore with YA, so just because an author throws in some adult philosophy at the beginning or the end makes the book adult-oriented? I think I'm missing something. Funny how Grimm fairytales aren't really for young children until Disney gets a hold of them!
ReplyDeleteI've not read any of the books you listed, but you have intrigued me! I'm not a big fairytale fanatic, but I think I want to check out one or two of your suggestions.
Well, when you think about it, books about teenagers are not automatically YA—The Catcher in the Rye, To Kill a Mockingbird, Jane Eyre, Great Expectations, Huckleberry Finn ... those are all classic coming-of-age stories that are literary and intended for adults. These three novels I wrote about are in that tradition; it's an old tradition. What seems new to me is that meaty adventurism of these novels, although now that I think it through I guess that's not so new either. Huckleberry Finn is totally an adventure novel (with a firm philosophical point). Hmm. Maybe not such a new trend, then: maybe the resurrection of an old trend that had gone into hibernation. :)
Delete"Authors of fiction who think they're doing philosophy should really let it come through in the story. Show, don't tell applies as much to philosophy as anything else."
ReplyDeleteThere's a lot to that, but it's also true that a character's motives can and often should be explored directly by an author. If their motives are examined, then their philosophies accompany that. In a book with a young protagonist I can see how you might find it pretensious, but teenagers and even children usually have ideas and understanding that they simply can't verbalize. I wrote a book with a young girl as the hero. The nature of her struggle forces her to consider ideas that most children wouldn't. I handled that by using third person narration so that her point of view can be explained using adult vocabulary and clarity.
Hi Matthew, thanks for stopping by!
DeleteI'm sure it can be done, but I think it's a very tricky thing for an author to pull off. In the case of a third-person narrator exploring the motives of a child protagonist, you have something like an omniscient POV. To me, this is very distancing, but of course it's all a bit subjective. In the Goldfinch, the adult Theo tells young Theo's story, which allows adult vocabulary and perspective, but keeps the narrator and protagonist unified. This worked pretty well for me; the last bit of the book did not work so well because we seemed to leave Theo's POV altogether and go into Donna Tartt's POV. Way too intrusive, imho.