Just wanted to say how much I both enjoyed and appreciated this piece. I honestly don't know how I got subscribed in the first place (something got forwarded and I liked it enough to subscribe, I'm guessing). but feel like I just got a mini-course in the historical novel just from the critique, through writing that's itself incredibly readable.
Am I in the midst of revising my own historical novel? Of course I am, that's why I read instead of skimmed this issue. I feel like I just got excellent input to layer into my own work, my own writing, and also my own thinking on a larger scale. I believe this post just made me a better reader, and a better writer, and did it with style.
Heck yeah! I am in exactly the same place as Kaile, and felt your critique was so visceral, that I'm hanging on to it, to revisit and remind myself what good story telling actually is (and is not).
Thank you. It’s important to acknowledge that even work we are examining closely and skeptically can have great things in it. Criticism is not about “thumbs up, or “thumbs down” but about weighing and evaluating the work itself. Wayne Booth is smiling wherever he might be.
Can you recommend any contemporary novelist (in the last decade or so) who did "non-literary/artistic narrator who speaks in a figurative and poetic voice" in a convincing and realistic manner?
I got totally sucked into this piece after deciding to save it for later. As a fiction writer I find your reviews so meaningful and entertaining, the way you dig deep down into the nitty-gritty. Sounds like Barkan should stick to reporting. I don’t read novels so some fancy-pants, cooler-than-thou New Yorker can clue me in to how insightful he is. And I take your point about MFAs. Never been near one, but common sense tells you that writing teachers are all quite different. Substack is many, many things to all kinds of different people—silly to claim that’s it’s one thing or another.
Considering Barkan’s freakouts when the program of TMR is explicitly noted I don’t know if he would agree with you.
On this we are in agreement: the Substack manly men are very much trying very hard to promote as radically necessary and new the most institutionally entrenched and well-supported literary aesthetic program of the 20th Century, again. There is nothing “new” to what they like or insist that everyone should like, and they are explicitly mad because men writing mimetic fiction supposedly don’t get published as much as women writing twee (they really really want to say “gay”) autofiction.
But your critical apparatus. What even is it? You talk about a capital letters Historical Novel with rules for what it does and you talk about “rules” for narration and sir I am sorry but you sound like an undergrad who read Terry Eagleton and is now excited to have the chance to try out some critical language you’ve not previously had before because our culture is determinedly anti-intellectual and so until college the idea of literary criticism had no meaning.
Without backing up to define and situate your terms these claims are literally meaningless. I have an actual degree in literature and I have no idea what “Historical Novel” tradition and program you are setting out. I can guess but I shouldn’t have to because a critic should be spelling out where they draw from so their work can be checked, so to speak. I don’t even know what “Historical Novels” you count as part of the canon and which fail at your self-identified program. For that matter the kind of novel you situate Barkan’s in and describe in programmatic terms (it’s not clear to me if you are talking about “Historical Novels” or a broader type that somewhat corresponds with your later reference to the programmatic European Realists) has “rules” for how it’s supposed to treat the characters and the circumstances that similarly are basically you wanting a different book than is being reviewed so your expectations are unmet.
All in all a grab bag of confusion. You’re clear enough on what you dislike or find problematic in Barkan’s book but not in how or why you’ve formulated the expectations it disappoints
Also, I've never read Eagleton. It sounds to me like you have a very...strict program for how you like criticism to be done, and if that is the case, I suggest you go write it on your own blog, lol.
I don't have an actual degree in literature, but I do have an IQ of 145. It's been tested.[*] My background is software engineering, where it's imperative to define your terms precisely. This practice doesn't get enough respect. Surely, the term "Historical Novel" must have a tradition and program that passes the sniff test in academia, with publications to match, otherwise we can't possibly have any sense of what it means.
What even IS an Historical Novel -- and especially a social-historical novel? OK, seriously: I remember starting into A Journal of the Plague Year thinking it must be a real diary. In fact, DeFoe was far too young in that year to offer the observations of that novel's narrator. The distance in years for him was comparable to the number of years between 9/11 and today. I sometimes need to remind myself that there are kids graduating from college right now who weren't even born yet when planes hit the Twin Towers and the Pentagon. It's already history, and needs to be taught as such. And written about as such. The question is how.
[*] Reference to The Sopranos, ICYMI. I've never been tested.
I'm sorry you two are confused. Maybe read "The Historical Novel" or "Realism in Our Time" or idk "Studies in European Realism" or maybe the prefaces of the New York Editions of Henry James's novels if you are so confused about the basic conventions and norms of fiction.
I'll admit to having a fuzzy sense of "Historical Novel", and especially after you cite some work as "The Historical Novel" without naming the author, which tells me you are working with a more precise definition--one that maybe I need to know, though not necessarily agree with 100%.
But it never even occurred to me that you were using "Historical Novel" in some unacceptably fuzzy sense (not to speak of an unacceptably undefined sense.) Because it certainly has a vernacular sense, at least. Maybe I should have paid more attention to how you capitalized it.
And that is what I found most strange about Moravagine's comment. I mean, if I asked some friend reading a book what genre it was in, and the answer was "historical novel", my response wouldn't be "what exactly do you mean by that?" My next question would more likely be about period and place. To me, it means invented characters in a real past, and/or real personages but with fictionalized dialogue and action, paralleling accepted history. So, for example, Gore Vidal's Burr. Aaron Burr definitely existed. And much that happened in that novel either really happened or is at least accepted history that falls short of the truth. But it's still a novel.
Maybe if I read Glass Tower before reading any of this discussion here, I wouldn't have called it historical fiction. I might actually have groped for a genre term and come up empty-handed.
But here's why: I'm old. I mean, I was in third grade when I cowered under my desk in duck-and-cover drills during the Cuban Missile Crisis.
When talking with people in their twenties, I sometimes need to remind myself that references to Nixon are historical for them, and that I might need to add year-brackets to any mention of the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan or the Iranian revolution. The world is still reverberating from 9/11, which was truly a turning point in history, and I guess that makes stopping just short of it in the Glass Tower a Big Period at the end of a long string of words concerned with a (temporal) period in American history. Maybe the starting bracket for Glass Tower is similar in its relation to U.S. foreign policy and war-making--about when Vietnam was drifting out of the headlines, with the phased withdrawal.
Sure, there was support for the mujahideen in Afghanistan, the invasion of Grenada, then Panama, the Gulf War pushing Saddam's forces out of Kuwait, bombing in the disintegrating Yugoslavia. But to the extent that American history is punctuated or even dominated by major conflicts involving lots of troops and/or lots of time fighting, or by enormous economic convulsions, Glass Tower seems like a treatment of an American culture (or a thin slice of it, rather) in a period of relative peace and prosperity. If the background seems thin to the point of irrelevance, you could almost say it was about an anomalous stretch of American history, decades long. Not only did I not experience such times until ca 1973, my parents never experienced them at all. Maybe this means I would read it in some unrelatably Boomerish way compared to others.
What I am confused about is why in the year of someone’s imaginary lord 2025 someone is still convinced that we need to follow prescriptive rules about how to write fiction that come exclusively from 100-odd years ago, when not even the fiction that was then contemporary was still being written that way.
Certainly looking to the past for models is a respectable tradition but the other part of that tradition is adapting for the present age not outlining the genre rules for literary fiction from the turn of the 20th century and leaving it there.
"Prescriptive rules"? I only follow nonprescriptive rules. That way, when I break them, I'm not breaking them. Oh, except for "omit needless words." I've thrown out entire stories based on that one. Also, comments I've drafted but not posted because they suddenly seemed ridiculous. Speaking of such--
"adapting for the present age not outlining the genre rules for literary fiction from the turn of the 20th century and leaving it there."
I thought this review was very much about adapting historical fiction to the present day--in particular, it suggested how, in the case of Glass Century, the adaptation might have been done better, stylistically.
The idea of sticking to a narrative voice more aligned with the character observed in third/close-third has at least helped some writers to wild commercial success, in case anybody here cares. E.g., Elmore Leonard, who takes it to the hilt. "I never use a word that my characters wouldn't use," and "if it sounds like writing, I cut it out." I can't go that far myself. (I even wrote "sacerdotally" in a recent story, a word my characters definitely wouldn't use, one I've never used before, and that maybe I even made up.) But as "prescriptive rules" go--if I may take half-seriously your surly-pouty redundancy, just this once--I do sort of admire Elmore Leonard for that. He's not my writing dad. He's not my writing doctor. He's just a good act to follow sometimes.
This review seemed much more about how the novel under review failed to follow the old rules Brandon wants, and thus failed within the genre he was relating it to. Which was the source of my confusion. I can’t even tell if you are being deliberately obtuse but I throw up my hands.
There's plenty in the passages quoted that is definitely written in ways that weren't following rules from 100 years ago but not called out by Brandon as no-no modernizations. To not see that is what seems "obtuse" to me. (Ooh, "deliberately obtuse"? Oxymorons too, not just redundancy? Can I have fries with that?)
You had me at "emergency stop at Muji" and oh my wow, the analysis. I don't have context for the author as I'm more a Substack grazer than denizen - but you articulate something about a certain type of writing and literature "these days" that has been bothering me. It's not so much what's happening in a novel form, but a shift in the way people seem to be in the world.
It's yesterday in the news - a politician and a Secretary of Defense in separate interviews stating that the one book they trust is the Bible. It's this conflation of fame and power that has given us a leadership that's always on-brand while morally and intellectually vacuous.
Thank you for reminding us that critique, critical thinking - and yes, MFA programs - matter.
HA I'm a loyal customer for at least 15 years who's never lived less than two hours driving from a physical shop.... give me a major European city and I will find you their Muji!
Was sucked into reading the entirety of this review almost against my will as I have to get on with my morning. I’ve read novels like this and you so clearly articulate the myriad issues, it’s amazing quite frankly. In the midst of the criticism I always appreciate how you write about tennis, and also enjoyed the Patchett comparison (I’m reading her latest, Tom Lake, right now). Yes, why read this when Commonwealth exists??
Perhaps it’s telling that, as I read this, I became impatient with the passages quoted from the novel. I felt like, let me get back to the critique of it. And I couldn’t help but put my own work through the prism you use here to look at the components of the novel. And I’m okay.
The novel sounds like a version of hell - the incredibly, painfully boring, tedious, contrived kind. I'm not sure why you bothered reading it all the way through - surely dumping it after the first chapter would have been a less stressful choice than slogging your way through it under the intense sun of Florence. Do hope you ditch boring fiction in the future as it's a waste of your time and critical talent* to subject yourself to reading and reviewing an entire novel of artless, insipid prose. (* I read your essay on Zola in the LRB and loved it.)
"slogging your way through it under the intense sun of Florence."
I didn't get a sense of any such onus--not when he says he felt like he was living in the novel. I haven't read it but even if this review is damning with faint praise in describing it as so immersive, the faint praise (if that's what it is) is still high praise. How many novels achieve such immersion? It's not a don't-read-this review. It seems more like a read-this review, with cautionary notes telling us how it could have been better.
I won't say it made me want to read the novel more. At worst, it's telling us to read it more carefully, stylistic warts and all, with questions about the characters and/or narrator that are worth asking. ARE the characters somewhat sociopathic? Then, as an historical novel, we might look at how our time may be increasingly and insidiously amplifying such tendencies, which makes the social background more relevant than it might seem at first. If the narrator is also somewhat sociopathic (by author's intent), what's the subtext implied by that stance? There is more than one way to look through the glass, but also how it can be a looking glass, a way to see our own almost-washed-out reflections, and reflect on them.
I'll let you know what I think once I've read it but re MFA-isation. It's a short form way of saying everyone sounds the same these days. I was actually going to write a piece for Ross on this. The thing is it's true-- for any literature that comes out of America, sadly. You're right, it may not be poor MFA's fault but the MFA has created an eco system where a certain kind of writing and 'structuring' is encouraged. And then England being England, pursues what America does and I truly think the MFA ruiined English language literature. I do not feel this is the case for literature that comes out of non English writing and also English novels by non native speaking writers. It seems to be very specific to US and UK for now. It is mostly evident in the short story. I actually stopped reading contemporary literature in English because it all sounds the same-- when written by anyone under the age of sixty. And I'm a product of this too, Brandon, so I am not passing judgement. I do think this structured two year program of sticking around others, workshops creates a weird eco system that isn't healthy for the writer-- albeit it buys him/her time from life, like a sabbatical, which is what an MFA really was meant to be. And now of course, if one has an MFA, one can teach MFA-- so it has created its own industry, which is also not bad. But the fact that all fiction (fiction only-- I do not think what I'm saying pertains to non fiction) written in English by people under a certain age sounds over structured, over tidy, over ambitious (as in trying to be the 'big book'). I mean just read a french writer and you feel like you're breathing air for a change. I can look at a book written in English and tell you if the writer has taken workshops or not. I'm reading a lot of Indian literature at the moment and this is not the case. So I have to then think why is this happening in the US (and UK) and to me what makes most sense is that it comes from this kind of 'workshopped' writing. That's what the person meant (the person you were referring to, I read it too but I forgot who it is). And look, I'm equally, and sadly, in that club myself. I hate it but it's true. When people ask me what Indians to read, I say, don't read the privileged English speaking MFA-ed people like me. We are not representative of what is really happening in Indian literature (some truly wonderful things which sadly the world doesn't get to read because translation of Indian literature is very very new-- less than ten years). I am representative of a 'kind' of Indian-- closer to a Jhumpa Lahiri (although she is American and I'm really raised in India first) kind of Indian. It annoys the hell out of me but c'est vrai. what to do.
I don't think I've enjoyed (maybe appreciated is more accurate) a review this much in years. Your considerations of how specific things could be done differently, in particular, is illuminating: not just saying, "This isn't done well" but explaining why. The problem with "Go home to your wife," e.g.: yes! Characters who exist in generalities aren't really characters. Anyway: thank you!
Absolutely, Kaile. I always find Brandon's posts mini-courses -- actually masterclasses. And -- I hope he doesn't get ideas ;) -- his Substack is still free. Given the currency exchange rate in developing countries like India and my limited resources, I am grateful to Brandon. He is generous. From India, I get MFA-quality instruction as I write my first novel (in progress). Thank you, Brandon.
"Theodore Dreiser doing a Jonathan Franzen impression" sounds great, though I think it was derogatory. I've never heard of this guy or his substack, time to go down a rabbit hole...
Maybe I don't get out much, but are there critical appraisals like this on the fingertips of writers these days? Since everything is debated in the town square, and none of us can agree on one truth or right and wrong, I'm sure there are examples. How can a novel of this magnitude go unnoticed? It's absolutely lovely and amazing to see this forensic analysis put so plainly.
I'm about 200 pages into Glass Century. The writing is clear and crisp, less ironic and more "it is what it is" style which is impressive to me, (are novels all about style and voice? Probably, and I never heard Barkan's voice in Glass Century, just the simmering rage of Mona and the lazy good life of Saul) My main concern here is that Mr. Taylor misses the number one comparison, John Updike. Although, after listening to Ross Barkan on the Bret Easton Ellis podcast I don't think he gets it either (he really likes Underworld). Franzen changed the literary world with The Corrections, and social novels will never be the same (Glass Century is a novel that takes place in time, it's not a historical novel, if anyone asks me). How can anyone read Glass Century and not see Freedom? It's shocking. Updike wrote his "historical" novels in a time when novelists were king, (we can debate that), but what part of the cell phone generation will sit down to give Glass Century a try? Ross Barkan is a millennial, no shade, but this book feels like it was written by a much older writer. Just read the dialogue. It's deer guts slippery.
Patty Berglund is Rabbit Angstrom as is Mona Glass. The difference is Mona falls prey to Saul, and Patty falls prey to a predator. Sports is the unifying theme in America, and in one way or another was can all relate. The only critic that I've read who sees the Updike/Franzen comparison is Michiko Kakutani.
Will outlets like The New York Times cover Glass Century? I was in the bookstore Three Lives last week talking about Glass Century to the owner and someone had special ordered the book which made me feel like I'm not alone, which is always nice.
Just wanted to say how much I both enjoyed and appreciated this piece. I honestly don't know how I got subscribed in the first place (something got forwarded and I liked it enough to subscribe, I'm guessing). but feel like I just got a mini-course in the historical novel just from the critique, through writing that's itself incredibly readable.
Am I in the midst of revising my own historical novel? Of course I am, that's why I read instead of skimmed this issue. I feel like I just got excellent input to layer into my own work, my own writing, and also my own thinking on a larger scale. I believe this post just made me a better reader, and a better writer, and did it with style.
Thank you.
Heck yeah! I am in exactly the same place as Kaile, and felt your critique was so visceral, that I'm hanging on to it, to revisit and remind myself what good story telling actually is (and is not).
Thank you. It’s important to acknowledge that even work we are examining closely and skeptically can have great things in it. Criticism is not about “thumbs up, or “thumbs down” but about weighing and evaluating the work itself. Wayne Booth is smiling wherever he might be.
Can you recommend any contemporary novelist (in the last decade or so) who did "non-literary/artistic narrator who speaks in a figurative and poetic voice" in a convincing and realistic manner?
I struggled with it for other reasons, but Lila by Marilynne Robinson?
Knockemstiff by Don Pollack!!
I got totally sucked into this piece after deciding to save it for later. As a fiction writer I find your reviews so meaningful and entertaining, the way you dig deep down into the nitty-gritty. Sounds like Barkan should stick to reporting. I don’t read novels so some fancy-pants, cooler-than-thou New Yorker can clue me in to how insightful he is. And I take your point about MFAs. Never been near one, but common sense tells you that writing teachers are all quite different. Substack is many, many things to all kinds of different people—silly to claim that’s it’s one thing or another.
Considering Barkan’s freakouts when the program of TMR is explicitly noted I don’t know if he would agree with you.
On this we are in agreement: the Substack manly men are very much trying very hard to promote as radically necessary and new the most institutionally entrenched and well-supported literary aesthetic program of the 20th Century, again. There is nothing “new” to what they like or insist that everyone should like, and they are explicitly mad because men writing mimetic fiction supposedly don’t get published as much as women writing twee (they really really want to say “gay”) autofiction.
But your critical apparatus. What even is it? You talk about a capital letters Historical Novel with rules for what it does and you talk about “rules” for narration and sir I am sorry but you sound like an undergrad who read Terry Eagleton and is now excited to have the chance to try out some critical language you’ve not previously had before because our culture is determinedly anti-intellectual and so until college the idea of literary criticism had no meaning.
Without backing up to define and situate your terms these claims are literally meaningless. I have an actual degree in literature and I have no idea what “Historical Novel” tradition and program you are setting out. I can guess but I shouldn’t have to because a critic should be spelling out where they draw from so their work can be checked, so to speak. I don’t even know what “Historical Novels” you count as part of the canon and which fail at your self-identified program. For that matter the kind of novel you situate Barkan’s in and describe in programmatic terms (it’s not clear to me if you are talking about “Historical Novels” or a broader type that somewhat corresponds with your later reference to the programmatic European Realists) has “rules” for how it’s supposed to treat the characters and the circumstances that similarly are basically you wanting a different book than is being reviewed so your expectations are unmet.
All in all a grab bag of confusion. You’re clear enough on what you dislike or find problematic in Barkan’s book but not in how or why you’ve formulated the expectations it disappoints
You have a degree in literature and you have never heard of Georg Lukács?
As to rules about point of view and narration--these are well settled norms that go back at least to George Eliot's criticism if not further back.
Sorry I didn't define really basic ideas, lol.
Also, I've never read Eagleton. It sounds to me like you have a very...strict program for how you like criticism to be done, and if that is the case, I suggest you go write it on your own blog, lol.
You know what, lol, sure. Okay. I'm not going to argue with you. Go in peace.
I'm similarity irritated! So glad to meet ya!
I don't have an actual degree in literature, but I do have an IQ of 145. It's been tested.[*] My background is software engineering, where it's imperative to define your terms precisely. This practice doesn't get enough respect. Surely, the term "Historical Novel" must have a tradition and program that passes the sniff test in academia, with publications to match, otherwise we can't possibly have any sense of what it means.
What even IS an Historical Novel -- and especially a social-historical novel? OK, seriously: I remember starting into A Journal of the Plague Year thinking it must be a real diary. In fact, DeFoe was far too young in that year to offer the observations of that novel's narrator. The distance in years for him was comparable to the number of years between 9/11 and today. I sometimes need to remind myself that there are kids graduating from college right now who weren't even born yet when planes hit the Twin Towers and the Pentagon. It's already history, and needs to be taught as such. And written about as such. The question is how.
[*] Reference to The Sopranos, ICYMI. I've never been tested.
I'm sorry you two are confused. Maybe read "The Historical Novel" or "Realism in Our Time" or idk "Studies in European Realism" or maybe the prefaces of the New York Editions of Henry James's novels if you are so confused about the basic conventions and norms of fiction.
I'll admit to having a fuzzy sense of "Historical Novel", and especially after you cite some work as "The Historical Novel" without naming the author, which tells me you are working with a more precise definition--one that maybe I need to know, though not necessarily agree with 100%.
But it never even occurred to me that you were using "Historical Novel" in some unacceptably fuzzy sense (not to speak of an unacceptably undefined sense.) Because it certainly has a vernacular sense, at least. Maybe I should have paid more attention to how you capitalized it.
And that is what I found most strange about Moravagine's comment. I mean, if I asked some friend reading a book what genre it was in, and the answer was "historical novel", my response wouldn't be "what exactly do you mean by that?" My next question would more likely be about period and place. To me, it means invented characters in a real past, and/or real personages but with fictionalized dialogue and action, paralleling accepted history. So, for example, Gore Vidal's Burr. Aaron Burr definitely existed. And much that happened in that novel either really happened or is at least accepted history that falls short of the truth. But it's still a novel.
Maybe if I read Glass Tower before reading any of this discussion here, I wouldn't have called it historical fiction. I might actually have groped for a genre term and come up empty-handed.
But here's why: I'm old. I mean, I was in third grade when I cowered under my desk in duck-and-cover drills during the Cuban Missile Crisis.
When talking with people in their twenties, I sometimes need to remind myself that references to Nixon are historical for them, and that I might need to add year-brackets to any mention of the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan or the Iranian revolution. The world is still reverberating from 9/11, which was truly a turning point in history, and I guess that makes stopping just short of it in the Glass Tower a Big Period at the end of a long string of words concerned with a (temporal) period in American history. Maybe the starting bracket for Glass Tower is similar in its relation to U.S. foreign policy and war-making--about when Vietnam was drifting out of the headlines, with the phased withdrawal.
Sure, there was support for the mujahideen in Afghanistan, the invasion of Grenada, then Panama, the Gulf War pushing Saddam's forces out of Kuwait, bombing in the disintegrating Yugoslavia. But to the extent that American history is punctuated or even dominated by major conflicts involving lots of troops and/or lots of time fighting, or by enormous economic convulsions, Glass Tower seems like a treatment of an American culture (or a thin slice of it, rather) in a period of relative peace and prosperity. If the background seems thin to the point of irrelevance, you could almost say it was about an anomalous stretch of American history, decades long. Not only did I not experience such times until ca 1973, my parents never experienced them at all. Maybe this means I would read it in some unrelatably Boomerish way compared to others.
What I am confused about is why in the year of someone’s imaginary lord 2025 someone is still convinced that we need to follow prescriptive rules about how to write fiction that come exclusively from 100-odd years ago, when not even the fiction that was then contemporary was still being written that way.
Certainly looking to the past for models is a respectable tradition but the other part of that tradition is adapting for the present age not outlining the genre rules for literary fiction from the turn of the 20th century and leaving it there.
"Prescriptive rules"? I only follow nonprescriptive rules. That way, when I break them, I'm not breaking them. Oh, except for "omit needless words." I've thrown out entire stories based on that one. Also, comments I've drafted but not posted because they suddenly seemed ridiculous. Speaking of such--
"adapting for the present age not outlining the genre rules for literary fiction from the turn of the 20th century and leaving it there."
I thought this review was very much about adapting historical fiction to the present day--in particular, it suggested how, in the case of Glass Century, the adaptation might have been done better, stylistically.
The idea of sticking to a narrative voice more aligned with the character observed in third/close-third has at least helped some writers to wild commercial success, in case anybody here cares. E.g., Elmore Leonard, who takes it to the hilt. "I never use a word that my characters wouldn't use," and "if it sounds like writing, I cut it out." I can't go that far myself. (I even wrote "sacerdotally" in a recent story, a word my characters definitely wouldn't use, one I've never used before, and that maybe I even made up.) But as "prescriptive rules" go--if I may take half-seriously your surly-pouty redundancy, just this once--I do sort of admire Elmore Leonard for that. He's not my writing dad. He's not my writing doctor. He's just a good act to follow sometimes.
This review seemed much more about how the novel under review failed to follow the old rules Brandon wants, and thus failed within the genre he was relating it to. Which was the source of my confusion. I can’t even tell if you are being deliberately obtuse but I throw up my hands.
There's plenty in the passages quoted that is definitely written in ways that weren't following rules from 100 years ago but not called out by Brandon as no-no modernizations. To not see that is what seems "obtuse" to me. (Ooh, "deliberately obtuse"? Oxymorons too, not just redundancy? Can I have fries with that?)
“Like, grow up” as a closer is now second only to my favorite ever Brandon quote: “Use your human mind.”
You had me at "emergency stop at Muji" and oh my wow, the analysis. I don't have context for the author as I'm more a Substack grazer than denizen - but you articulate something about a certain type of writing and literature "these days" that has been bothering me. It's not so much what's happening in a novel form, but a shift in the way people seem to be in the world.
It's yesterday in the news - a politician and a Secretary of Defense in separate interviews stating that the one book they trust is the Bible. It's this conflation of fame and power that has given us a leadership that's always on-brand while morally and intellectually vacuous.
Thank you for reminding us that critique, critical thinking - and yes, MFA programs - matter.
Thank you for understanding the importance of an Emergency Muji Stop, lol.
HA I'm a loyal customer for at least 15 years who's never lived less than two hours driving from a physical shop.... give me a major European city and I will find you their Muji!
Was sucked into reading the entirety of this review almost against my will as I have to get on with my morning. I’ve read novels like this and you so clearly articulate the myriad issues, it’s amazing quite frankly. In the midst of the criticism I always appreciate how you write about tennis, and also enjoyed the Patchett comparison (I’m reading her latest, Tom Lake, right now). Yes, why read this when Commonwealth exists??
Perhaps it’s telling that, as I read this, I became impatient with the passages quoted from the novel. I felt like, let me get back to the critique of it. And I couldn’t help but put my own work through the prism you use here to look at the components of the novel. And I’m okay.
The novel sounds like a version of hell - the incredibly, painfully boring, tedious, contrived kind. I'm not sure why you bothered reading it all the way through - surely dumping it after the first chapter would have been a less stressful choice than slogging your way through it under the intense sun of Florence. Do hope you ditch boring fiction in the future as it's a waste of your time and critical talent* to subject yourself to reading and reviewing an entire novel of artless, insipid prose. (* I read your essay on Zola in the LRB and loved it.)
Nah, my novel isn't boring at all ;-)
"slogging your way through it under the intense sun of Florence."
I didn't get a sense of any such onus--not when he says he felt like he was living in the novel. I haven't read it but even if this review is damning with faint praise in describing it as so immersive, the faint praise (if that's what it is) is still high praise. How many novels achieve such immersion? It's not a don't-read-this review. It seems more like a read-this review, with cautionary notes telling us how it could have been better.
I won't say it made me want to read the novel more. At worst, it's telling us to read it more carefully, stylistic warts and all, with questions about the characters and/or narrator that are worth asking. ARE the characters somewhat sociopathic? Then, as an historical novel, we might look at how our time may be increasingly and insidiously amplifying such tendencies, which makes the social background more relevant than it might seem at first. If the narrator is also somewhat sociopathic (by author's intent), what's the subtext implied by that stance? There is more than one way to look through the glass, but also how it can be a looking glass, a way to see our own almost-washed-out reflections, and reflect on them.
I'll let you know what I think once I've read it but re MFA-isation. It's a short form way of saying everyone sounds the same these days. I was actually going to write a piece for Ross on this. The thing is it's true-- for any literature that comes out of America, sadly. You're right, it may not be poor MFA's fault but the MFA has created an eco system where a certain kind of writing and 'structuring' is encouraged. And then England being England, pursues what America does and I truly think the MFA ruiined English language literature. I do not feel this is the case for literature that comes out of non English writing and also English novels by non native speaking writers. It seems to be very specific to US and UK for now. It is mostly evident in the short story. I actually stopped reading contemporary literature in English because it all sounds the same-- when written by anyone under the age of sixty. And I'm a product of this too, Brandon, so I am not passing judgement. I do think this structured two year program of sticking around others, workshops creates a weird eco system that isn't healthy for the writer-- albeit it buys him/her time from life, like a sabbatical, which is what an MFA really was meant to be. And now of course, if one has an MFA, one can teach MFA-- so it has created its own industry, which is also not bad. But the fact that all fiction (fiction only-- I do not think what I'm saying pertains to non fiction) written in English by people under a certain age sounds over structured, over tidy, over ambitious (as in trying to be the 'big book'). I mean just read a french writer and you feel like you're breathing air for a change. I can look at a book written in English and tell you if the writer has taken workshops or not. I'm reading a lot of Indian literature at the moment and this is not the case. So I have to then think why is this happening in the US (and UK) and to me what makes most sense is that it comes from this kind of 'workshopped' writing. That's what the person meant (the person you were referring to, I read it too but I forgot who it is). And look, I'm equally, and sadly, in that club myself. I hate it but it's true. When people ask me what Indians to read, I say, don't read the privileged English speaking MFA-ed people like me. We are not representative of what is really happening in Indian literature (some truly wonderful things which sadly the world doesn't get to read because translation of Indian literature is very very new-- less than ten years). I am representative of a 'kind' of Indian-- closer to a Jhumpa Lahiri (although she is American and I'm really raised in India first) kind of Indian. It annoys the hell out of me but c'est vrai. what to do.
I don't think I've enjoyed (maybe appreciated is more accurate) a review this much in years. Your considerations of how specific things could be done differently, in particular, is illuminating: not just saying, "This isn't done well" but explaining why. The problem with "Go home to your wife," e.g.: yes! Characters who exist in generalities aren't really characters. Anyway: thank you!
Absolutely, Kaile. I always find Brandon's posts mini-courses -- actually masterclasses. And -- I hope he doesn't get ideas ;) -- his Substack is still free. Given the currency exchange rate in developing countries like India and my limited resources, I am grateful to Brandon. He is generous. From India, I get MFA-quality instruction as I write my first novel (in progress). Thank you, Brandon.
It’s like a craft lecture tucked inside criticism tucked inside a craft lecture… thank you for writing.
"Theodore Dreiser doing a Jonathan Franzen impression" sounds great, though I think it was derogatory. I've never heard of this guy or his substack, time to go down a rabbit hole...
Maybe I don't get out much, but are there critical appraisals like this on the fingertips of writers these days? Since everything is debated in the town square, and none of us can agree on one truth or right and wrong, I'm sure there are examples. How can a novel of this magnitude go unnoticed? It's absolutely lovely and amazing to see this forensic analysis put so plainly.
I'm about 200 pages into Glass Century. The writing is clear and crisp, less ironic and more "it is what it is" style which is impressive to me, (are novels all about style and voice? Probably, and I never heard Barkan's voice in Glass Century, just the simmering rage of Mona and the lazy good life of Saul) My main concern here is that Mr. Taylor misses the number one comparison, John Updike. Although, after listening to Ross Barkan on the Bret Easton Ellis podcast I don't think he gets it either (he really likes Underworld). Franzen changed the literary world with The Corrections, and social novels will never be the same (Glass Century is a novel that takes place in time, it's not a historical novel, if anyone asks me). How can anyone read Glass Century and not see Freedom? It's shocking. Updike wrote his "historical" novels in a time when novelists were king, (we can debate that), but what part of the cell phone generation will sit down to give Glass Century a try? Ross Barkan is a millennial, no shade, but this book feels like it was written by a much older writer. Just read the dialogue. It's deer guts slippery.
Patty Berglund is Rabbit Angstrom as is Mona Glass. The difference is Mona falls prey to Saul, and Patty falls prey to a predator. Sports is the unifying theme in America, and in one way or another was can all relate. The only critic that I've read who sees the Updike/Franzen comparison is Michiko Kakutani.
Will outlets like The New York Times cover Glass Century? I was in the bookstore Three Lives last week talking about Glass Century to the owner and someone had special ordered the book which made me feel like I'm not alone, which is always nice.