literarydiscussions.myfreeforum.org

Sitaram · Site Admin Joined: 14 Sep 2005 Posts: 1079

At ennisjack.com I noticed, some while ago, a link to fan lit for BBM. Apparently there is a genre of literature written by fans of certain novels and movies, where they use their imagination to speculate about sequels to their favorite stories.

I have been attempting to study the works of Annie Proulx and her biography for a short while now, and I have tentatively arrived at certain conclusions.

I do not see Annie Proulx as a person who pursues wealth or fame or power. Were she that kind of person, she would have milked the lecture circuit for all it is worth in high fees for speaking engagements. Instead, she refuses all further interviews and engagements so she may get on with her work. I see her as a genuine artist who is striving to produce her opus in the unique style and voice which she has created for herself. I have now examined Accordian Crimes, The Shipping News, The Old Ace in the Hole and Postcards as well as the short story BBM, and what I observe is her striving for diversity and continually fresh innovation, yet remaining within the boundaries of the unique genre that she has devised.

Were she to capitalize on the popularity of Brokeback Mountain and write many sequels, then she would be side tracked from her higher artistic goals.

I am reminded of Jean-Paul Sartre who abandoned his brand of Existentialism, his Being and Nothingness at a time when he might have traveled and lectured for several years, because he had become convinced that Marxism and Communism were more important philosophies to pursue. Some years later, Sartre became disillusioned with the Socialist position, and abandoned that as well. We see in such a person tremendous courage and intellectual honesty, to be willing to abandon something popular and lucrative, and to be willing to admit error, and seek an alternative. I am reminded of the fact that Sartre refused a prize (perhaps Nobel? I could google for certainty), on the grounds that were he to accept such a public honor, he could not maintain his unbiased independence as a philosopher.

When I consider the meticulous painstaking care which Proulx takes to craft each story and novel, I realize that she is not writing for the general consumer public, but for herself as a creative artist. For the general public does not care for the fineness and careful crafting of each sentence and phrase, or the uniqueness and brilliance of a new genre, or the profound social and moral issues explored. The world at large is looking for a pastime. They are not looking for Michaelangelo's Pieta, but for some plastic simulacrum to affix to the dashboard of their vehicle (and if it wobbles and glows in the dark, well, so much the better).

Last summer, I was strolling by a sidewalk cafe, and I noticed a well-dressed, middle-aged woman, reading a novel. I struck up a conversation, and mentioned that I had been reading Milan Kundera's The Unbearable Lightness of Being. She said, "Oh, no. Such books are too deep for me. I want to relax when I read, and be distracted, not engaged.

Time is the ultimate test of important literature. I am sure that the Reverend Laurence Sterne never imagined what fame and popularity his "Tristram Shanty" would achieve as he scribbled away in his study, nor that posterity would reckon it as possibly the first Postmodernist work.

I noticed some idiot of a critic commenting that one of Proulx' novels was journalism thinly disguised as faction. I think it is profound when an artist can weave some deep message of philosophy or religion or politics into their work. Dostoevsky’s "Confessions from the Underground" (not certain of the exact title), is acclaimed as one of the finest introductions to Nihilism and Existentialism. Stephan Crane wrote "The Red Badge of Courage" long after the Civil War, and had never himself experienced combat, and furthermore, wrote the novel in ten days flat. Yet generation after generation of students are required to read it: my father in the 1930s, myself in the 1960s, and my step-son in the 1990s. Sinclair Lewis influenced a President to enact the pure food laws with his novel The Jungle. And Uncle Tom's Cabin by Harriet Beecher Stowe helped awaken a nation to the ugliness of slavery.

Perhaps, a hundred years from now, if we have not destroyed ourselves, students will be required to read or view Brokeback Mountain, along with Red Badge of Courage, Animal Farm, 1984, and Viktor Frankl's Man's Search for Meaning in order to teach them how not to be.

Last year, I mentioned something to my 90 year old father about Best Seller novels. He reminisced about the first novel he remembers as a best seller: Anthony Adverse. I had never hear of that title, and yet, in the 1930s it was all the rage. How quickly a work can ride the wave of popularity and then sink into obscurity.

The first best selling American novel, in mid 1800's was Wide, Wide World written by a young woman, Susan Witherell, under the pen name of Elizabeth (something, cant remember, have to google). She took it to many publishers who rejected it. Finally, the mother of a publisher, who was about to reject it, chanced to read it and insisted that her son publish it (which he did). It lay dormant for a few months, but then took off like wildfire, both in America and in Europe, selling over a million copies. It was the story of a young girl, separated from her parents, who must fend for herself, and surmounts many obstacles through her Christian faith. The book has a happy ending. Of course, nowadays, it is popular in Women's Studies for obvious reasons. But the reading public at large is unaware of that title and author.

There are various arguments about which book, historically, should be considered the very first novel. Many say it is "Tales of Gengie" by Lady Murasaki (hooray for women's lib) in the year 1000 C.E. (Christian Era, now more politically correct than A.D. Anno Domini, Year of the Lord, with BCE as "Before Chrisian Era'). Others say that the first novel is something more ancient, and Roman (Latin), called the Satyricon.

I am writing all of this from memory, as I sip my coffee on this Saturday morning, so please forgive me any errors or inaccuracies. I will try to come back after I google, with some links, and possible corrections.

Get your own free IRC Chat room