September 9th, 2009 / 10:49 pm
Snippets

Apologies if it’s been a week of too much shop talk, but here goes: Isn’t a human being more complex than any fantasy, literary theory, metaphysic, fictive conceit, etc., we can dream up? And, if so, what do you take away from that, if anything?

23 Comments

  1. Ben Boykevich

      Well, William Gass once wrote that–damn it, I can’t talk about this shit right now! A more pertinent question to ask would be: Amy or my secret “friend” from Italy? One is my first true love, and the other puts out (and calls me “the sausage king” in bed). What to do, what to do…

  2. Ben Boykevich

      Well, William Gass once wrote that–damn it, I can’t talk about this shit right now! A more pertinent question to ask would be: Amy or my secret “friend” from Italy? One is my first true love, and the other puts out (and calls me “the sausage king” in bed). What to do, what to do…

  3. Shya

      This is a great question, especially in the context of the language-heavy writing that’s normally championed–and written–by GIANT contributors. There’s an analogy I’ve been thinking about recently: that of “classical” music vs. other sorts of popular and/or traditional music. Classical music is often rewarded/cursed with the descriptor “difficult”, and is often judged accordingly. Seen from one perspective, it is indeed difficult: it can have complicated melodies, for instance. But the time signature of most classical music is 4/4, so from a rhythmic perspective, it’s extremely basic. So music and/or cultures that value rhythm over melody would call classical music relatively simplistic, or at least uninteresting.

      An analogy can be made about writing that errs on the side of dense language over character and/or plot development. Often times, these texts basically avoid the question of “character”, opting instead to address issues of meaning, syntax, sound, etc.

      This in of itself wouldn’t be noteworthy, I don’t think, were it not for the fact that some of the people who post/comment here hold such dramatic preferences for/against certain approaches to narrative/prose. I guess what your question, Ken, leads me to wonder is: are certain considerations more worthy than others, with regard to important/significant/literary fiction? Is it more important that I turn a good phrase, for instance, than it is that I construct a memorable character? Because memorable/profound characters are certainly not always the result of “interesting” language.

  4. Shya

      This is a great question, especially in the context of the language-heavy writing that’s normally championed–and written–by GIANT contributors. There’s an analogy I’ve been thinking about recently: that of “classical” music vs. other sorts of popular and/or traditional music. Classical music is often rewarded/cursed with the descriptor “difficult”, and is often judged accordingly. Seen from one perspective, it is indeed difficult: it can have complicated melodies, for instance. But the time signature of most classical music is 4/4, so from a rhythmic perspective, it’s extremely basic. So music and/or cultures that value rhythm over melody would call classical music relatively simplistic, or at least uninteresting.

      An analogy can be made about writing that errs on the side of dense language over character and/or plot development. Often times, these texts basically avoid the question of “character”, opting instead to address issues of meaning, syntax, sound, etc.

      This in of itself wouldn’t be noteworthy, I don’t think, were it not for the fact that some of the people who post/comment here hold such dramatic preferences for/against certain approaches to narrative/prose. I guess what your question, Ken, leads me to wonder is: are certain considerations more worthy than others, with regard to important/significant/literary fiction? Is it more important that I turn a good phrase, for instance, than it is that I construct a memorable character? Because memorable/profound characters are certainly not always the result of “interesting” language.

  5. gene

      but if all you’re doing is trying to tell a story, why write? why traffic in language specifically? why not go into television or movies? i write to work in those interstices that only language, as a medium, can broach.

      being a human being is damn interesting, but to assume that someone who works toward sonorous qualities over creating a mimetic distillation of phoenix arizona and its inhabitants is avoiding the complexities of humanity seems off. we created language. and so the guttural appreciation of sound is no less of a connective tissue between reader and writer than the one created by a nice, tidy story of two human beings who bond over the fact that they both had mothers who survived cancer. it’s a different part of our brains that reacts, but it’s a human reaction all the same. think phonoaesthetics and the weird feelings you get from the words “cellar door” or “sluice.”

      i want to go into ideas and barthelme and dfw but i’m tired now and will continue this later.

  6. gene

      but if all you’re doing is trying to tell a story, why write? why traffic in language specifically? why not go into television or movies? i write to work in those interstices that only language, as a medium, can broach.

      being a human being is damn interesting, but to assume that someone who works toward sonorous qualities over creating a mimetic distillation of phoenix arizona and its inhabitants is avoiding the complexities of humanity seems off. we created language. and so the guttural appreciation of sound is no less of a connective tissue between reader and writer than the one created by a nice, tidy story of two human beings who bond over the fact that they both had mothers who survived cancer. it’s a different part of our brains that reacts, but it’s a human reaction all the same. think phonoaesthetics and the weird feelings you get from the words “cellar door” or “sluice.”

      i want to go into ideas and barthelme and dfw but i’m tired now and will continue this later.

  7. Catherine Lacey

      So should we all stop writing and get our shit together so we can make some babies?

      No, seriously. I think about this (maybe too) often. Wouldn’t making another human being have a far greater impact on the world than making a book some people think is neat?

      As the resident female I feel like I may be living up to some kind of stereotype, but I will overlook that for now. I think this is just as relevant a question to any halfway intelligent male.

      Also, this is not to say that you have to chose writing or children. Of course you can do both. Heidi Julavitz and Ben Marcus have two kids and I get plenty done. Sam Lipsyte has a kid or two. There are others; these are just the first I thought of.

      Maybe this is too personal a reaction to Ken’s prompt. Having kids is obviously a much more complicated decision than just writing.

      But still! It seems related somehow. It seems like people who make time to write stories everyday, to work and work and work and only rarely get rewarded have something in common with parents. It seems that parenting and writing are cousins on a neurological level, though I have no clue if they are.

      Someone back me up on this?

  8. Catherine Lacey

      So should we all stop writing and get our shit together so we can make some babies?

      No, seriously. I think about this (maybe too) often. Wouldn’t making another human being have a far greater impact on the world than making a book some people think is neat?

      As the resident female I feel like I may be living up to some kind of stereotype, but I will overlook that for now. I think this is just as relevant a question to any halfway intelligent male.

      Also, this is not to say that you have to chose writing or children. Of course you can do both. Heidi Julavitz and Ben Marcus have two kids and I get plenty done. Sam Lipsyte has a kid or two. There are others; these are just the first I thought of.

      Maybe this is too personal a reaction to Ken’s prompt. Having kids is obviously a much more complicated decision than just writing.

      But still! It seems related somehow. It seems like people who make time to write stories everyday, to work and work and work and only rarely get rewarded have something in common with parents. It seems that parenting and writing are cousins on a neurological level, though I have no clue if they are.

      Someone back me up on this?

  9. Ani

      Sure, any endeavor in which you ‘create’ can be compared to parenting on some level. Except that babies, unlike stories, grow up and years later shout at you about how much they hate you and how they wish to god you’d never birthed them and shit.

      Interesting and disparate reactions to Ken’s question, though. My reaction was that of course those things aren’t as complex by themselves, seeing as they are just parts of the whole experience of being human. How much value you assign to each part is up to you and whatever wacko ideas your parents instilled in you.

  10. Ani

      Sure, any endeavor in which you ‘create’ can be compared to parenting on some level. Except that babies, unlike stories, grow up and years later shout at you about how much they hate you and how they wish to god you’d never birthed them and shit.

      Interesting and disparate reactions to Ken’s question, though. My reaction was that of course those things aren’t as complex by themselves, seeing as they are just parts of the whole experience of being human. How much value you assign to each part is up to you and whatever wacko ideas your parents instilled in you.

  11. Shya

      There are many things writing can do that can’t (elegantly) be done in film. Interiors, for instance. Emotion and thought. You don’t have to use the word “sluice” to take advantage of the medium.

  12. Shya

      There are many things writing can do that can’t (elegantly) be done in film. Interiors, for instance. Emotion and thought. You don’t have to use the word “sluice” to take advantage of the medium.

  13. Ken Baumann

      ‘So … cultures that value rhythm over melody would call classical music relatively simplistic, or at least uninteresting.’ But do they?

      And I don’t understand calling any music ‘difficult.’ All you have to do is sit and listen. Odd world.

      ‘Often times, these texts basically avoid the question of “character…”‘ In defense of these texts with dense language, I often find that fully realized characters emerge out of the language; in the best of these texts, at least; in the texts that are constantly referenced (Wittgenstein’s Mistress, Ulysses, Blood Meridian, Blake Butler’s Ever, etc.). I’ll challenge you to name one book that is loved by the ‘language camp’ (I wouldn’t call them that/it that, but for ease of conversation…) and is frequently talked about on HTMLGiant that doesn’t have a strong aura of character.

      All I can re: importance is this: I tend to remember more vividly characters and narrative and distinct scenes than I do a musical sentence. But I remember most vividly those stories that contain it all, e.g. Log of the S.S. The Mrs Unguentine — which is the greatest synthesis of musical language and unforgettable character/mythological & lyrical story that I’ve read.

  14. Ken Baumann

      ‘So … cultures that value rhythm over melody would call classical music relatively simplistic, or at least uninteresting.’ But do they?

      And I don’t understand calling any music ‘difficult.’ All you have to do is sit and listen. Odd world.

      ‘Often times, these texts basically avoid the question of “character…”‘ In defense of these texts with dense language, I often find that fully realized characters emerge out of the language; in the best of these texts, at least; in the texts that are constantly referenced (Wittgenstein’s Mistress, Ulysses, Blood Meridian, Blake Butler’s Ever, etc.). I’ll challenge you to name one book that is loved by the ‘language camp’ (I wouldn’t call them that/it that, but for ease of conversation…) and is frequently talked about on HTMLGiant that doesn’t have a strong aura of character.

      All I can re: importance is this: I tend to remember more vividly characters and narrative and distinct scenes than I do a musical sentence. But I remember most vividly those stories that contain it all, e.g. Log of the S.S. The Mrs Unguentine — which is the greatest synthesis of musical language and unforgettable character/mythological & lyrical story that I’ve read.

  15. Ken Baumann

      ‘and so the guttural appreciation of sound is no less of a connective tissue between reader and writer than the one created by a nice, tidy story of two human beings who bond over the fact that they both had mothers who survived cancer.’

      I actually disagree, if I can strike out the cancer example. :) Look at the rise of film & television and the (relative) decline of literature, and look at the best sellers list. Monomythical story and/or entertainment works on a subconscious level on the masses much more powerfully than pretty/musical language.

  16. Ken Baumann

      ‘and so the guttural appreciation of sound is no less of a connective tissue between reader and writer than the one created by a nice, tidy story of two human beings who bond over the fact that they both had mothers who survived cancer.’

      I actually disagree, if I can strike out the cancer example. :) Look at the rise of film & television and the (relative) decline of literature, and look at the best sellers list. Monomythical story and/or entertainment works on a subconscious level on the masses much more powerfully than pretty/musical language.

  17. Ken Baumann

      I sort of agree with Shya, but there are great examples of interiors being done well in film: 8 1/2, for example. Many more.

      It’s the provocation & activation of the imagination that film can’t replicate. You’re supplied the image. Although some filmmakers are tactically overcoming this, too: Michael Haneke, for example (Benny’s Video).

  18. Ken Baumann

      I sort of agree with Shya, but there are great examples of interiors being done well in film: 8 1/2, for example. Many more.

      It’s the provocation & activation of the imagination that film can’t replicate. You’re supplied the image. Although some filmmakers are tactically overcoming this, too: Michael Haneke, for example (Benny’s Video).

  19. Ken Baumann

      ‘So should we all stop writing and get our shit together so we can make some babies?’ Yikes. I dunno. :)

      My question up top was more in the concern of character/language within fictive realms, but I dig this reaction!

      ‘It seems that parenting and writing are cousins on a neurological level, though I have no clue if they are.’ Maybe. We’d have to ask the brain doctors. But I think there is a certain feeling of attachment that is very similar (see: the DFW essay about a novel being like a deformed child you have to drag around).

  20. Ken Baumann

      ‘So should we all stop writing and get our shit together so we can make some babies?’ Yikes. I dunno. :)

      My question up top was more in the concern of character/language within fictive realms, but I dig this reaction!

      ‘It seems that parenting and writing are cousins on a neurological level, though I have no clue if they are.’ Maybe. We’d have to ask the brain doctors. But I think there is a certain feeling of attachment that is very similar (see: the DFW essay about a novel being like a deformed child you have to drag around).

  21. ryan

      not to mention there’s so much more control over what we create when we write, versus making a baby! but of course, being a part in creating a child was far greater than anything my brain can come up with to create.

  22. ryan

      not to mention there’s so much more control over what we create when we write, versus making a baby! but of course, being a part in creating a child was far greater than anything my brain can come up with to create.

  23. Andrea

      that fiction is IMPOSSIBLE, basically