On the Importance of Reading Modern Fiction

In my creative writing class, we've been workshopping everyone's final projects. One classmate's work in particular prompted me to write this post.

Pic by enchantedwhispersart.deviantart.com

He's a good poet. He's smart. He's my friend.

But his prose leaves much to be desired.

As a self-professed reader of only books from 100+ years ago, he writes in a stilted, overdone way. His sentences are long and cumbersome. He uses too many ... shall I say grandiose? ... words all together. It feels like he's trying so hard to sound like Dickens. Or Wilde. Or Proust. Or, god help us, Sir Walter Scott.

Basically, his writing is stunted.

As a writer, it's important to read everything. Classics. Contemporaries. Fiction. Nonfiction. You should read everything you can get your hands on. If you purposefully cut yourself off from a section of writings (especially one as large as the body of work produced in the last 100 years!) you are doing yourself a disservice. Your writing will suffer.

So I've decided to get him a few new(ish) books for his upcoming birthday. These are examples of fiction written within the last hundred years that I feel every writer (and reader) should experience.

1. Catch-22

"He was going to live forever or die in the attempt."

Catch-22, published in 1961, is a work of satirical genius by Joseph Heller. Taking place during WWII, Catch-22 captures the insanity, the desperation, the rage, the inevitability of war. Written in non-chronological 3rd person, it follows Air Force captain, Yossarian, who hates war. Yossarian's central conundrum is that if he is crazy, he'll be discharged. But he has to apply for said discharge and applying for said discharge demonstrates that he is not insane, thereby no longer qualifying for the discharge. For him, there is no way out of war. 

The narrative itself is circular and reflects the nature of the "Catch 22" conundrum. It's a great study in the devolution of a character into insanity. Heller's language is clear and powerful. His characters are unforgettable. It's hard to explain Catch-22 to someone who has not read it because it is so singular - so completely different from anything else that I've read.

2. Slaughterhouse-Five

"Nothing intelligent can be said about a massacre."

In keeping with my first suggestion, here is another experimental, WWII, and entirely singular book - Kurt Vonnegut's Slaughterhouse-Five, published 1969. I've reviewed this book before (you can read my review here). Like Catch-22, Slaugherhouse-Five is shockingly revolutionary and completely different from Heller's opus. Again, it's hard to explain Vonnegut's most famous work. Actually it's pretty hard to explain any of Vonnegut. He writes a little left of reality and Slaughterhouse-five is no different. Jumping between the fantastical and the devastating, Vonnegut captures the essence of surrealism without dissolving into the abstract or the detached. Billy Pilgrim is the quintessential unreliable narrator and the book forces the reader to question reality at every turn. What is real? What is delusion? Is there actually a difference? Vonnegut's writing is gorgeous - sometimes whimsical, sometimes bare and raw. Strange. Startling. Disturbing. This book is definitely worth the read. 

3. The Cider House Rules

"People only ask questions when they're ready to hear the answers."

John Irving is by far one of the most skilled writers working today. The Cider House Rules, published in 1985, is astounding. It follows Homer Wells, an orphan who never gets adopted. Instead he begins to learn the business of medicine as instructed by Dr. Wilbur Larch, head of the orphanage and the only doctor around who is willing to perform abortions. As my mother is fond of saying, all of Irving's books are about sex and perversion, and The Cider House Rules is no different. But instead of coming off as sensationalist or cheap, Irving writes about the difficulty of living. The difficulty of being human. It is the most honest look at one of the most controversial topics of our time. In the guise of empathetic characters and beautiful language, Irving forces you to examine your own beliefs - your own choices. An orphan or an abortion?

4. The Poisonwood Bible

"God doesn't need to punish us. He just grants us a long enough life to punish ourselves." 

The Poisonwood Bible is easily my favorite work of contemporary fiction (again, here's my full review). Published in 1998, The Poisonwood Bible by Barbara Kingsolver is the story of five women and the missionary husband/father/abuser they follow. Travelling half a world away, from Georgia to the Belgian Congo in the 1960s, the Price family women each get their own POV. All five parts are written in first person and all five are incredibly distinctive. There's never any confusion over who's who and the shear technical ability Kingsolver displays here is worth the read. The fact that Kingsolver's technical talent is alloyed with a spectacularly compelling story makes this a rare find and a necessary addition to any personal library. The Poisonwood Bible is an astounding work woven of technical ability, social consciousness, and the intimacy of a family struggling to survive the ravages of the Congo and of their father.

5. 1Q84

"But pure, unadulterated feelings are dangerous in their own way. It is no easy feat for a flesh-and-blood human being to go on living with such feelings."

Published as three separate novels in Japan over 2009 and 2010, 1Q84 by Haruki Murakami is an excellent example of where modern fiction can go. In a way, it follows in the surrealist footsteps of Vonnegut and presents a world that is just slightly left of reality. The book uses the term "1Q84" to show the slight difference of this new world the characters stumbled into from the one they left, back in the normal 1984. Again, even that is a nod to previous work - this time George Orwell's infamous dystopia. In my previous review, I introduced the book by calling it an asymmetrical fairy tale. Murakami successfully captures the juxtaposition of a pre-mobile phone world and post-modern philospophy in his unique poetic style. While the book is definitely complex (and crammed together into a gigantic volume when it was translated to English), it's definitely worth the read.

It's very very difficult to pick only five books from the last 100 years and there are so many more that are worth your time. 

The Color Purple (1982) by Alice Walker. The Lord of the Rings (1937-1949) by J.R.R. Tolkien. To Kill a Mockingbird (1960) by Harper Lee. The Handmaid's Tale (1985) by Margaret Atwood. Ender's Game (1985) by Orson Scott Card. Fahrenheit 451 (1953) by Ray Bradbury. The Phantom Tollbooth (1961) by Norman Juster.

And on and on an on and on, ad infinitum. As a writer, it's so important to read everything. Just read. Read every moment you can. 

Perhaps Stephen King said it best. If you don't have the time to read, you don't have the time nor tools to write.

Flight Behavior: A Book Review

So I think I'm in love.

I wrote a review a while back about Barbara Kingsolver's spectacular novel, The Poisonwood Bible, of a family of star-crossed missionaries in Africa. It blew me away, and, honestly, I was a little hesitant to read another of her books. How could it possibly be as good? But I finally gave one a shot.

Flight Behavior follows Dellarobia Turnbow, a young woman desperate for a change in the hills of Southern Appalachia. One day, she climbs the mountain behind her house, determined to throw away the life she's been living - two children, a nice if uninteresting husband, a family she never really belonged to - but something stops her. In what verges on religious transcendence, she discovers a miracle. No, a phenomenon. No, a catastrophe. I don't want to give away anything, but what she discovers surpasses her understanding and the understanding of the scientific community.

In one breath, her life is overturned. Her church suddenly views her as blessed by God. Scientists venture into this small backwoods town to study the phenomenon. And well-meaning tourists disrupt the stagnant balance that had previously been Dellarobia's existence.

At first, I was a bit reluctant to relate to this character. Not because of how she was written but because of my own prejudices. Dellarobia is basically what I've always heard called "poor, white trash." She married before she graduated high school because she got pregnant. She stayed with her husband even though that meant a life of diapers, and cleaning, and putting up with the matriarch of this sheep-farmer family. She traded the young, brilliant, enthusiastic woman that she was in for a dollar-store, made-in-china, washed-out version of herself. As someone who grew up poor, it wasn't her poverty that turned me off. It was her absolute hopelessness. But that changes pretty quickly.

At first she sees the phenomenon that landed in her backyard as a sign from God. A sign of beauty and hope. She's not sure what to make of it, but she believes with a child-like certainty that it portends of good things to come. Then the scientists come.

The head scientist - a graceful, brilliant, foreign man - makes such an impression on this sheltered young mother that she falls almost instantly in love. Not exactly love for who he is, himself, but for what he stands for. Education. Knowledge. Opportunity. She quickly offers her land for his use and he sets up a portable trailer house and a makeshift laboratory. The more she learns, the clearer it becomes that this wonder in her backyard is a tragedy of catastrophic proportions.

Flight Behavior skillfully portrays the small dramas of this Appalachia town, complete with the exciting new opening of a thrift store the next town over. It shows the humanity of those who live paycheck to paycheck and the casual apathy that is almost required to survive in the cloistered, claustrophobic atmosphere of a dying small town. It presents, addresses, and demolishes prejudices and assumptions held on all sides. The intensely conservative distrust of science, outsiders, and anything new. The highly educated's arrogant assumptions regarding the inferiority, inability, and lack of self-determination with regards to the uneducated. It's strikes all the universal chords of family, ambition, privilege, respect, and that quintessentially human thirst for something .... more.

It made me question my own prejudices. It forced me to consider a new point of view. It compelled me to recognize the fact that I cannot know all of someone else's circumstances. That each person is valid and contributes to the humanity of us all. The main character grows immensely throughout the book and takes the reader along for the ride. It shows us that something can be both beautiful and heartbreaking. That a person can be both tragic and strong. Victim and oppressor. Ignorant and brilliant. That for what it's worth, each individual matters. And that in the face of overwhelming odds, it's worth fighting.

The writing itself is beautifully crafted, and I must admit, Barbara Kingsolver may give my all-time favorite author, Margaret Atwood, a run for her money when it comes to beauty and lyricism in writing. It looks like I've got a new favorite author, so now comes the hard part. Which of her other books should I read next?

The Poisonwood Bible: A Review

The Poisonwood Bible by Barbara Kingsolver is the best book I've read in a while. I'd heard it mention before, but I didn't know much about it. I bought it because it follows a zealous missionary family as they journey into the heart of the Congo in 1960 and I thought it would give me a good insight into the type of people that dedicate their life so zealously to their religion. I got more than I ever could have expected.

Instead of following the missionary himself, the story focuses on the women around him - his wife and four daughters. This is their story.

As a writer, arguably the most fascinating aspect of this book was its structure. It has five point-of-view characters, the mother and daughters, and each is written in first person. As someone who loves first person for its intimacy, this book is exactly what I picture when I say first person can be done amazingly. I've read a lot of articles and op-eds that declare first person the realm of the beginner. That true "literary" works are not written as such. That's complete bunk. Of course first person can be done badly. So can any POV. And, yes, first person may actually be more difficult to do well, but when someone with the skill of Ms. Kingsolver does it, it transcends all expectations.

Each character had such a uinique voice that even without the character's name at the beginning of each chapter, I would have known who was speaking. From the physical immediateness of little five year old Ruth May to the shallow, almost illiterate complaints of sixteen year old Rachel, each character achieves individuality. I'm sure this took a lot of work on the writer's part, but it comes off as so easy, so organic, I never once questioned the author's choice of POV.

The story itself weaves a complex tapestry of what counts as "everyday" life in the Congo with the vast socio-economic history of the region. The questions it forces its characters (and readers) to confront are intriguing and uncomfortable. It questions religion's place in a world where one person or one group of people hold such dominating power over others. From the abusive relationship between the father and his family to the abusive relationship between the colonial powers and their victim Africa. The Poisonwood Bible is a spectacular work of technical ability, social consciousness, and the intimacy of a family.

It is by far one of the best books I have ever read and I met its end with the melancholic regret of finishing a good book. I'm sure I'll pick it up again in my lifetime if for no other reason then to study the masterful writing technique of Barbara Kingsolver and her other books have earned a place on my to-read list.

“Listen. To live is to be marked. To live is to change, to acquire the words of a story, and that is the only celebration we mortals really know. In perfect stillness, frankly, I've only found sorrow.” 

-The Poisonwood Bible by Barbara Kingsolver