A Story of Manners That Calls To Mind Graphic Novels

I'm going to stay with the Dec. 21 & 28 New Yorker for the moment and talk about Tim Parks' concise short story called "Bedtimes," which I like for two reasons: first it is essentially a story of manners -- that once popular genre that few writers seem to view as a suitable subject for contemporary fiction.

Novels of manners -- Jane Austin, of course, immediately comes to mind -- concern how people behave toward each other in conventional social situations, or, to put it another way, in ordinary life.

Second, I like this story because it is written in prose so straight forward it reads like an ever-so trendy graphic novel. All that is missing is the pictures, but the nature of the story is such that one can easily imagine them.

"There is a willful simplicity and a mechanical, monosyllabic repetition to the prose. Almost as if it were written for children, in places, as if everything were terribly simple and clear, when in reality none of the important or complicated things are being said," Parks explained in an author interview.

What important or complicated things? A marriage has stagnated, but perhaps not terminally, and neither spouse wants to take the issue on. Among other things, there are children in the picture.

To say more would give it away. It's only two pages. Read it and see what resonates.

Will Advanced Robots Recreate Us As Works of Art?

As I have previously noted, one of the purposes of fiction is to look into the future and try to imagine what the world might be like if, say, terrorism reigns supreme or climate change overwhelms us.

Then there is the much-discussed topic of artificial intelligence and whether it might get out of control. The Washington Post carried an op-ed piece on that topic last month and I've written about it in earlier blog posts that readers can find here and here.

All of which brings me to a short poem in the Dec. 21 & 28 New Yorker by former U.S. poet laureate Robert Pinsky entitled "The Robots."

In it, Pinsky, imagines a world in which exceptionally advanced robots ("Their judgement in its pure accuracy will resemble grace ...")  reign supreme. Man is gone, but the robots can comprehend the nature of humans through the dust that remains of them "and recreate the best and the worst of us, as though in art."

It's an arresting image. Picture yourself framed and hanging in a museum for the edification of a bunch of robots which "when they choose to take material form they will resemble dragonflies, not machines."

A Paperless Society? Not When Bill Gates Reads Books

I took a break from blogging during most of the month of December, passing up many interesting topics in the process, but instead, got a number of other things done. So I'm starting the New Year with more of a clean slate than usual.

Here's a very brief item to get back into harness.

The New York Times has a story today (Jan. 2, 2016) about Microsoft founder Bill Gates reviewing books on his blog Gates Notes.  No surprise, as a celebrity, when he recommends a book, a bounce in sales follows.

What would we, a nation of sheep, do without celebrities? How in the would would we know what to  eat, what to drink, what to wear and (think Oprah) what to read?

What struck me about the article was not what Gates has been reading -- non-fiction for the most part, it appears -- but how he reads. According to The Times, not in an electronic format.

"Mr. Gates says he reads about 50 books in a year, eschewing digital readers for old-fashioned books on paper. When he is busy with work, he reads about a book or two a week but will consume four or five in the same period while vacationing with family," the newspaper reported.

One advantage of paper is that one can scribble in the margins.

"He (Gates) rarely posts negative reviews of books, explaining that he sees no need to waste anyone’s time telling them why they shouldn’t bother reading something. He doesn’t spare himself, though. 'I have a habit, which I don’t recommend, of finishing essentially every book I start,' he said. 'And if I disagree with a book I spend lots of time writing notes in the margins. Perversely, this means that the more I dislike a book, the longer I spend reading it.'" the article said.

I like to scribble notes in the margins of books that I read, too, but generally not to argue with the authors. It's a way to more easily get back to material I like or think is interesting or important.

Fortunately, Gates isn't the only one who finds books in print more satisfying that a stream of text on some electronic device. We are fortunate to have a bookstore a block and a half away and it is doing exceptionally well -- right under the nose of Amazon, which, by the way, recently opened its own bricks-and-mortar store selling books in print at our local high-end shopping mall.

Test Driving Novels, In This Case “Purity”

I enjoy reading short stories in The New Yorker and then commenting on them – if and when I think I have anything to say. But some New Yorker stories are not really stand-alone fiction. Rather, they are excerpts from forthcoming novels.

For instance, back in March, I wrote about “Sweetness,” a story by Toni Morrison that was taken from her novel “God Help the Child,”  published soon thereafter. In that case, I wasn’t focused on sampling the book, but rather on the story's take on racial prejudice. 

 

Jonathan Fanzen, often hailed as the latest Great American Novelist, recently published “Purity,” a sweeping, 563-page tale of personal angst, inter-personal strife and great events. Reviews have been generally positive, but clearly, this isn’t a book for everyone.

About a Teen: Life is Gross, Nothing New About Sexting

Justin Taylor is an adult male. His story “So You’re Just What, Gone?” – published in the May 18, 2015, New Yorker -- is about a 16-year old girl, told from her perspective. It’s written in a style known as “close third person,” which preserves the intimacy of the first person while giving the author more observational and descriptive freedom than would otherwise be the case.

The challenge, of course, is credibility. Charity is depicted as attractive and bright (Advanced Placement English), but immersed in the seamier aspects of life. Knowing them well, she copes with them competently. Do you recognize this person? Is this present day, middle class America presented akin to the manner in which  Dickens presented the seamier aspects of Victorian England through one of his characters?

How Lucky Was Harper Lee?

Thanks to a very high-profile controversy over the recent publication of "Go Set a Watchman," most fans of fiction have been well-reminded of the story of Harper Lee.

In 1957, she brought to the publishing house J. B. Lippincott a problematic manuscript that was read by an editor named Therese von Hohoff Torrey ( known as Tay Hohoff) who saw potential in Harper's writing and worked closely with the author over the next couple of years. The end result was "To Kill a Mockingbird," which won a Pulitzer Prize and has been for decades one of the best-known and most loved works of American literature.

Embrace My Brand, Get Hooked on a Feeling

Writing in the program notes, Seattle Opera General Director Aidan Lang said Georges Bizet’s The Pearl Fishers espouses the idea that honor and friendship should be held in the highest esteem, even to the extent of suppressing one’s own sexual fulfillment.

"But in an era of the gradual erosion of communal values, of the focus on the individual, of the ‘selfie,’ is it such a bad idea to be reminded of these redeeming human characteristics?” Lang asked.

I cite that because this blog has episodically taken a look at the impact electronic social media appears to be having on individuals and what that might mean for the future of fiction. Most recently, I addressed the topic in a post entitled “Literary Hand-Wringers,” which, among other things, noted a new book by MIT professor Sherry Turkle in which she argued that digital technology is eroding the ability of humans to feel empathy for others.

In that vein, the Oct. 25, 2015 edition of T, the New York Times style magazine carried an article called “Hooked on a Feeling,” with the subtitle “Thanks to social broadcasting networks, everyone and everything is its own brand. Now we want the one thing the Internet can’t buy: human emotion.”

“The empathy economy is booming. Facts are out, feelings are in,” the author, Michael Rock, declared. But not, it appears, on the basis of a return to direct, person-to-person interaction among humans. In fact, far from it.

“Branding is supposedly not about what something says, or what it means, but how it makes us feel. A brand is a promise. It’s the emotional payoff on an investment in a particular product, place or individual. … When we talk about a strong brand, it consistently delivers the emotion it promises,” Rock said.

The article then goes on to discuss the “mood board,” a tool long used by designers to help them come up with a certain look for, say, the interior of a room or a line of women's wear. A mood board usually consists of a collection of images that, taken together, supposedly conjures up feelings that are often hard to directly express in words alone – feelings clients will then supposedly experience when they live in the rooms in question or wear the clothes.  

How is this related to social media and human emotion?

Well, here’s one possibility. “Instagram,” Rock said, “turns every individual life into a social network mood board.”

I show you my feelings, and you show me yours, coded and subject to interpretation, of course, and not in a manner that might be uncomfortably intrusive.

“When everything is available all the time and we’re inundated with information in every way, shape and form, we are left with no choice but to favor what makes us feel,” Rock  concluded.

So here’s the new plot line:  will she or won’t she – hit the thumbs-up button and “like” the latest posting on her favorite social network so as to satisfy her emotional cravings? (As opposed to, say, enter into an in-the-flesh relationship with another person.) Sounds like a compelling read.

But wait a minute: wasn't that T Magazine article entitled "Hooked on a Feeling?" You know the song: "When you hold me in your arms so tight, you let me know everything's all right." Alas, that notion was written in 1968 and as for The Pearl Fishers, 1863. How can one relate to either of those when "it's all about me?" You want emotional contact with me? Embrace my brand, soak up the feelings.

 Communal values? How quaint.