Books, Tastes, and Economic Realities...

I can't hide the fact that I am a "list" person. What I mean by that is the fact that I depend on lists to organize my life in more ways than one. Having said that, I suppose that I am not all that completely nuts about categorized literature lists in general, only those that help to educate and edificate. Perhaps technology has made us dependent on lists rather than liberate us from them. My reading lists are based on what I want to read, not what I need to read or what I consider "good." In that sense, it is important to have a clear idea of what these so-called "reading lists" or "bestsellers" really advocate.

Yesterday, I described my great distaste of B.K. Myers' "A Reader's Manifesto," and today I must point out another one of the many debates going on (albeit somewhat silently) on the topic of literature nowadays. On May 23rd, "The New York Times" ran a review by one William Grimes entitled "Volumes to Go Before You Die." The column was an open critique of Prof. Peter Boxall's effort to put together the list of 1,001 books to read before you die. Grimes' problem with the 1,001 book list is the fact that 1) it is a British effort, 2) that the British love lists and the fights they provoke, and 3) that most of the academic sources which supported the inclusion of some of the books were "mostly obscure." Going by what I wrote yesterday, I must continue to ask--and ask earnestly--what is going on with literature nowadays?

This past winter I was part of a committee of academics that was to decide upon the selections our students were to read in the coming summer. I quit the committee after the first day. The sessions were mostly bickering about the merits of this author and the lacking of an other. In a room full of seemingly intelligent people, dialogue was put to rest and what ensued was a gripe session, a verbal war that surrendered to nothing and yielded far less. I had decided to join the committee with the interest of playing a "role" of sorts. I wanted to be the one (I assumed correctly beforehand that I would be the only one) advocating the inclusion of the "Great Books" in the list for summer reading. This fact I made clear on the first day, when, in the only sign of politeness, we introduced ourselves and gave the reason as to why we wanted to be part of the committee. I said openly that I was there to advocate the "Classics," books despite the fact that the liberal-oriented/politically-correct interpretation might consider them racist, colonialist, imperialist, anti-semetic, sexist, oppressive, etc. There's merit to these books, I continued, because they fulfilled a part of society and stood the test of time. We all could recognize that and read them for what they mean today--not as support for unpopular policies, politics, philosophies and/or beliefs. The argument didn't go far. This is the reason why even the American political process has become a hard to endure joke: we are offending each other to absolute silence in the name of "political-correctness."

At any rate, Grimes main argument (much like my own in the committee) is that why the list included so many books from recent and contemporary writers but failed to include writers from what he calls "the age of Balzac, Dickens, Dostoyevsky and Tolstoy." I agree with him (to a certain extent), but I have to recognize that ALL literature, regardless of what its aim is, should be included in the list. Therefore, we wouldn't have a list of 1,001, but rather a numberless list from which to read the rest of our lives. Wouldn't that be a better option? Wouldn't that be a better learning experience, not limited by choices or narrow paths? Isn't the effort to read in order to experience things that are beyond our own lives enough? Wouldn't it be better not to categorize books in lists of "best to read," "must reads," etc.? Grimes makes (in my biased personal opinion) a fatal mistake. He states: "Something is wrong here. Paul Auster gets six novels. Don DeLillo [gets] seven. Thackeray gets one: 'Vanity Fair.'" Of course, my guard went up. In two days I have read two unreasonable critiques of Paul Auster, my favorite writer. Of course I am going to go on the defensive. But what I don't have to do is defend Auster. His works speak for themselves, and if you know Paul Auster's work, you would know what I am talking about. He is not, like Shakespeare, beyond criticism, but the fact that he draws so much unfair and unwarranted critiques perhaps means that he is so good those who cannot compete then criticize. Then the old adage must be revised: "Criticism is the most sincere form of flattery." I am advocating both Thackeray and Auster, Garcia Marquez and Hesse.... I am advocating both Shelley and Rushdie, Wharton and Murakami. Grimes goes on to state that if you "[d]rop a couple of Austers, and there would have been room" for titles like Dreiser's "An American Tragedy." The question then becomes: Should we do away with these blasted lists? What about the so-called "bestsellers' lists?" Are they really bestsellers, or is this type of list another capitalist/corporate effort to promote one book over another? As I pointed out earlier, why take the opinion of a talk show hostess over that of professor emeritus Harold Bloom? I suppose he would know more about what "good" literature is, wouldn't he? A further complication can be seen when one examines (closely) the list of bestseller in the U.S. throughout the years. It can be considered a deterioration of "taste," or intellectualism, etc. It can be correlated to the rise of television, etc. It could be read from different angles and make it justify about any argument put forth. What are these lists for? Really?

I make no sense, really, and I'll be the first to state it. There's, however, a great discrepancy between the bestselling volumes of today, and the same category for, say, the year of Our Lord 1946. It is clearly a shift in economics, taste, education and lifestyles... and Grimes should take that into account, as should the rest of us...

Classics... round 2

I am presently reading "Wuthering Heights," a novel I neglected to read in my college and post-graduate degree days. While I have had a great number of opportunities to hear and read some literary analysis which made reference to characters such as Heathcliff, the novel itself remained a mystery to me until now. I am in the first few chapters so I have little to say other than I find the overwhelming rudeness of the Heathcliff gang absolutely unrealistic when paralleled versus the long-standing idea of British hospitality and manners. Of course, that is not to say that there aren't people like that in other cultures. Heathcliff makes me think of those absolutely arrogant bastards one wishes not to cross but one ends up doing anyways. Of course, that is central to the plot (from what I have read about it) so I am expecting someone to collect the brunt of his anger.

I won a $20 gift card to Borders Books this week when I took a health screening provided by the Academy. I turned out to be one of the "fittest" people here. Mainly I know this is due to my running, but also to the fact that I eliminated some bad habits from my eating in the last year or so. Weight, blood pressure and other vitals were right on target, and I found out my body "thinks" it is 37 years old. At any rate, I stopped by Borders "Outlet" (a discount division of Borders) and had some great finds, ALL of them under $3. I found Don DeLillo's "Underground," and "Making the Corps" by Thomas E. Ricks (this one is attractive to me for obvious reasons). I also got an anthology of contemporary authors "best works," on the strength that it had sections of "Timbuktu" by Paul Auster. All these riches for under $10.

In order to save my Pre-Made in China "Moleskines," (it is nearly impossible to find the "made in Italy" ones now) I began to use "Moleskines Cahiers" last year instead. I find them easier to handle. What ever is it that I am saving my "original" Moleskines for, I have no idea.... but it is certain that they are now valuable, and even if I don't use them, I might leave them behind for my children to use (I don't have any children, but when I do, I'll make them aware of it). The fact that the cahiers only have 80 pages also helps to feel the sense of accomplishment without having to wait 190 pages for it. It's been a wild ride the second half of "The Silence of This Wall," and I continue to plug away now at a slower pace, looking at small details and carrying on research as the need for it appears. Hot cocoa on a snowy day never tasted better!

Commentary

Today in my British literature class, a group of actors from the Great Lakes Theater Company came to do some exercises on Macbeth. Two weeks before, I had a difficult time getting 28 teenage girls to consider Macbeth a masterpiece. After the actors left class this morning I thought how much more difficult it might be for them to begin anew with these very same teenagers. Moreover, these actors really go into what they were doing. I suppose you would have to, I mean, play the part to the utmost of your ability. Somehow it all seemed surreal to me. I don't think I could've been so enthusiastic if placed in the same position. I do have a passion for teaching, and I do the best I can to make all of this material relevant, but it is hard to compete with popular culture; a culture that is only driven by the given pleasure and immediate gratification and entertainment. Frankly, as I watched this morning proceedings I felt a bit of panic. Some of the girls made faces as if to say, "how uncool," while others just stood there with a fake blase of interest. And imagine, these actors will be here all week! Hope it gets better.

So I read more from "The Letters of James Wright." Marvelous how some people have such an incredible gift to be so communicative using letters. I wonder if he worked off drafts. I used to write regular letters to a friend in NYC and I remember jotting little things on margins of books, things I wanted to mention to my friend, which is kind of a draft for a letter, no? At any rate, Wright mentions something about his love for books and how little money he had to indulge in the luxury of purchasing books (especially a collection of poems by Swift). Reminded me of my old college days. I enjoy reading these letters, little by little. I am learning a great deal about poetry from this book.