Opinions
Knee-Jerk Notes on New Fiction
To properly find a new book to read takes a great deal of time and energy. Barring that, one might as well resort to scanning the shelves with gut instinct. And that’s exactly what Claire Miccio does with the current crop of fiction.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
- Better Baby Names Bureau (The Non-Expert)
- This Is Not a Eulogy (Profiles)
- The Vanishing Date (Spoofs & Satire)
Also by Claire Miccio
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- A Common Nomenclature for Lego Families (November 4, 2009)
- The Pleasures of Saudade (October 8, 2009)
- OK Genius (September 18, 2009)
Also in Opinions
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Keeping up with new fiction isn’t easy. There’s a lot of it out there and the landscape moves pretty fast. It helps to read reviews on a regular basis in order to figure out what’s good, what’s merely hype, and why.
But I haven’t been reading reviews lately—so if ever there were a time to judge books by their covers or jacket flaps, now is that moment. I recently scoped out the hardcover scene and made some shallow but necessary snap judgments about what I should read next.
What I’m thinking: I can’t make up my mind about Mr. Wallace. Sometimes he sounds like a 16-year-old with an overactive vocabulary and sky-high SATs and sometimes he sounds like an insightful adult with a sense of humor. He’s supposed to be really smart. It makes no sense! Can’t he tell that his prose is obnoxious? Didn’t it occur to him that his fiction is unreadable? Doesn’t he realize Andrew W.K. is his twin brother?!?
My conclusion: Hold out for essays.
What I’m thinking: My typography professor raves about Saramago, or as he calls him, “The Portuguese Master.” He’s assigned us to read Saramago’s The Cave entirely because “letters were invented to convey ideas like his.” But then again my professor asks that we call him “Bubba” and refers to himself in the third person.
My conclusion: I should probably finish The Cave first.
What I’m thinking: Albom’s earlier book, Tuesdays with Morrie, may have been hailed as “uplifting,” but it only made me want to die, alone and quickly. Then came the made-for-TV movie that showed a dying Jack Lemmon teaching Hank Azaria how to live. That only made me want to gag, also alone and quickly.
My conclusion: I’d prefer to meet five people in Hell.
What I’m thinking: According to Neil Gaiman, Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell is “unquestionably the finest English novel of the fantastic written in the last 70 years.” That’s quite a claim, and I wish I knew what it meant. “Of the fantastic?” The only image it conjures—yes, conjures—is a mystical tome with embossed gold lettering. Perhaps it’s kept in an enchanted cave by two magic dwarves. Perhaps their names are “Barnes” and “Noble.” Perhaps… I do not care.
My conclusion: Forgive me, but Jonathan Lethem is about as of the fantastic as I get.
What I’m thinking: Just right for me. The first few pages are promising, and I’ve gotta say I enjoy a novel of manners the way I enjoy sex in Spanish films: wholeheartedly and with multiple flashbacks.
My conclusion: It’s not every day you find something you want to curl up in bed with. Except for Gael García Bernal, but that’s a whole other story…
But I haven’t been reading reviews lately—so if ever there were a time to judge books by their covers or jacket flaps, now is that moment. I recently scoped out the hardcover scene and made some shallow but necessary snap judgments about what I should read next.
Oblivion, David Foster Wallace
What it sounds like: eight short stories by a guy obsessed with David Lynch and the word “weltschmertz”What I’m thinking: I can’t make up my mind about Mr. Wallace. Sometimes he sounds like a 16-year-old with an overactive vocabulary and sky-high SATs and sometimes he sounds like an insightful adult with a sense of humor. He’s supposed to be really smart. It makes no sense! Can’t he tell that his prose is obnoxious? Didn’t it occur to him that his fiction is unreadable? Doesn’t he realize Andrew W.K. is his twin brother?!?
My conclusion: Hold out for essays.
The Double, Josè Saramago (translated by Margaret Jull Costa)
What it sounds like: a grim story about identity—from a Nobel Prize in Literature winnerWhat I’m thinking: My typography professor raves about Saramago, or as he calls him, “The Portuguese Master.” He’s assigned us to read Saramago’s The Cave entirely because “letters were invented to convey ideas like his.” But then again my professor asks that we call him “Bubba” and refers to himself in the third person.
My conclusion: I should probably finish The Cave first.
The Five People You Meet in Heaven, Mitch Albom
What it sounds like: the life of a recently deceased man, as told by his loved onesWhat I’m thinking: Albom’s earlier book, Tuesdays with Morrie, may have been hailed as “uplifting,” but it only made me want to die, alone and quickly. Then came the made-for-TV movie that showed a dying Jack Lemmon teaching Hank Azaria how to live. That only made me want to gag, also alone and quickly.
My conclusion: I’d prefer to meet five people in Hell.
Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell, Susanna Clarke
What it sounds like: a thick book about magicians in early-19th century EnglandWhat I’m thinking: According to Neil Gaiman, Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell is “unquestionably the finest English novel of the fantastic written in the last 70 years.” That’s quite a claim, and I wish I knew what it meant. “Of the fantastic?” The only image it conjures—yes, conjures—is a mystical tome with embossed gold lettering. Perhaps it’s kept in an enchanted cave by two magic dwarves. Perhaps their names are “Barnes” and “Noble.” Perhaps… I do not care.
My conclusion: Forgive me, but Jonathan Lethem is about as of the fantastic as I get.
The Jane Austen Book Club by Karen Joy Fowler
What it sounds like: a story about six people who meet every week to discuss Jane Austen novelsWhat I’m thinking: Just right for me. The first few pages are promising, and I’ve gotta say I enjoy a novel of manners the way I enjoy sex in Spanish films: wholeheartedly and with multiple flashbacks.
My conclusion: It’s not every day you find something you want to curl up in bed with. Except for Gael García Bernal, but that’s a whole other story…
—Published September 30, 2004
