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.
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.
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 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!
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.
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
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.
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.
Here is my one criticism of your review/essay: "Prorgammatic" -> "Programmatic". Please do something nukular there while I'm returning some books to the Lie Berry. The sweet, sweet Lie Berry.
I liked this review because it told me I'm doing some things right, but at the same time warns me about what to watch out for in my own writing.
On "focalizing", one novelist who comes to mind is Thomas McGuane. He has a way of downshifting from close-third into a central character's mind, often exposing a lack of self-awareness. It's funny, but (at least for me) it's not just funny. The laughter is a little nervous, because the self-delusions are common enough that I'm likely to share them. If you can get past your own cognitive dissonance in your self-image, you'll recognize yourself as sharing in such beliefs, at least sometimes. I still remember how one of his paragraphs summarized a character in ever-shorter sentences, concluding with "He wanted to be a force for good." Well, uh, don't we all? But how far do most of us get with that thought? It seemed like the first hint that the character was going to leave a trail of wreckage in some lives, including his own. This is not necessarily a foregone conclusion just because you're reading Thomas McGuane, even if it's usually the way to bet. He can keep you in suspense that way.
"At least in the case of Glass Century, where there is no demonstrable evolution in the social process through the characters or their conflicts. Rather, history is a thing that happens to them with the strangeness and randomness of weather. The reader recognizes history solely through the recognition of certain brand names that pass over them. The novel feels rather more like a birding expedition than a true explication or exploration of the social forces at work in New York over this fifty-year span."
I find this fascinating for a number of reasons. Have we been so consumed by history--we have more access to the facts of it and perspectives on it than any other time--that it's now just another entertainment separate from us even as we experience it? Or do we even feel a part of history except for the big set pieces like 9/11, and can we really effect it (if we ever could)? For example, as one Substack put it, the protests the other day were futile performances that will cause no more change than any other protest against Trump, who could care less what anyone thinks so long as he's the center of attention. Or are the main characters of this novel so privileged that they are beyond history, eloi unaffected by it, while the grubbiness of history is left to the morlocks? Do most people just want to get on with their little soon-to-be-forgotten lives the way getting into a car makes a driver feel like they're in a subspace bubble of their own? And would the type of historical novels I think you're talking about even be taken seriously today as modern works, being so obvious (the poor millworker likes the rich girl whose father owns the mill, or the poor country mouse connives to get a rich city husband, in both wackiness ensuing), or just be seen as belabored satire (do not get me started on the vapid crap that is LEAVE THE WORLD BEHIND, which makes AMERICAN BEAUTY look deep) or juicy Trollopesque costume dramas such as THE GILDED AGE (which I do like) to be amused by? Did our forefathers see history differently, at least perhaps those not enduring world-spanning wars? Does history only happen to other people or is it made, as Karl Rove might say, by people like him, with the rest of left to study it?
I guess I'm asking, small question, what is history to us and you?
If you're asking the fiction-writing me, it's something to rhyme with, considering that it doesn't exactly repeat. Try as I might to be as grim as possible, something farcical (if only in a black-humor sense) always spills out as I write. After all, history is written mostly by the self-serious, so how much farce was cut from (or never even considered for) the original, compared to the sequel?
One way or another, history is happening to all of us, all the time.
If this is not a takedown, it's only because you're punching down.
Your grandpa! Undine Spragg as the bar for sociopathy! Your friend chat-- that was all very entertaining. I kept wanting to stop reading this because I find all the TMR discourse annoying and I suspected it was coming. But yes, you compelled us to go all the way there.
It’s kind of mean for amusement, and your literary stature is much higher. I’m not mad about it. Ross is not some poor loser with no other prospects. You’ve earned your prestige, you can do with it what you want. But you writing about his novel being bad could never be a takedown.
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.
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.
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.
“Like, grow up” as a closer is now second only to my favorite ever Brandon quote: “Use your human mind.”
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!
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.
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
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.
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.
I really enjoyed this. Thank you.
Here is my one criticism of your review/essay: "Prorgammatic" -> "Programmatic". Please do something nukular there while I'm returning some books to the Lie Berry. The sweet, sweet Lie Berry.
I liked this review because it told me I'm doing some things right, but at the same time warns me about what to watch out for in my own writing.
On "focalizing", one novelist who comes to mind is Thomas McGuane. He has a way of downshifting from close-third into a central character's mind, often exposing a lack of self-awareness. It's funny, but (at least for me) it's not just funny. The laughter is a little nervous, because the self-delusions are common enough that I'm likely to share them. If you can get past your own cognitive dissonance in your self-image, you'll recognize yourself as sharing in such beliefs, at least sometimes. I still remember how one of his paragraphs summarized a character in ever-shorter sentences, concluding with "He wanted to be a force for good." Well, uh, don't we all? But how far do most of us get with that thought? It seemed like the first hint that the character was going to leave a trail of wreckage in some lives, including his own. This is not necessarily a foregone conclusion just because you're reading Thomas McGuane, even if it's usually the way to bet. He can keep you in suspense that way.
"At least in the case of Glass Century, where there is no demonstrable evolution in the social process through the characters or their conflicts. Rather, history is a thing that happens to them with the strangeness and randomness of weather. The reader recognizes history solely through the recognition of certain brand names that pass over them. The novel feels rather more like a birding expedition than a true explication or exploration of the social forces at work in New York over this fifty-year span."
I find this fascinating for a number of reasons. Have we been so consumed by history--we have more access to the facts of it and perspectives on it than any other time--that it's now just another entertainment separate from us even as we experience it? Or do we even feel a part of history except for the big set pieces like 9/11, and can we really effect it (if we ever could)? For example, as one Substack put it, the protests the other day were futile performances that will cause no more change than any other protest against Trump, who could care less what anyone thinks so long as he's the center of attention. Or are the main characters of this novel so privileged that they are beyond history, eloi unaffected by it, while the grubbiness of history is left to the morlocks? Do most people just want to get on with their little soon-to-be-forgotten lives the way getting into a car makes a driver feel like they're in a subspace bubble of their own? And would the type of historical novels I think you're talking about even be taken seriously today as modern works, being so obvious (the poor millworker likes the rich girl whose father owns the mill, or the poor country mouse connives to get a rich city husband, in both wackiness ensuing), or just be seen as belabored satire (do not get me started on the vapid crap that is LEAVE THE WORLD BEHIND, which makes AMERICAN BEAUTY look deep) or juicy Trollopesque costume dramas such as THE GILDED AGE (which I do like) to be amused by? Did our forefathers see history differently, at least perhaps those not enduring world-spanning wars? Does history only happen to other people or is it made, as Karl Rove might say, by people like him, with the rest of left to study it?
I guess I'm asking, small question, what is history to us and you?
If you're asking the fiction-writing me, it's something to rhyme with, considering that it doesn't exactly repeat. Try as I might to be as grim as possible, something farcical (if only in a black-humor sense) always spills out as I write. After all, history is written mostly by the self-serious, so how much farce was cut from (or never even considered for) the original, compared to the sequel?
One way or another, history is happening to all of us, all the time.
If this is not a takedown, it's only because you're punching down.
Your grandpa! Undine Spragg as the bar for sociopathy! Your friend chat-- that was all very entertaining. I kept wanting to stop reading this because I find all the TMR discourse annoying and I suspected it was coming. But yes, you compelled us to go all the way there.
How on earth is this punching down?
It’s kind of mean for amusement, and your literary stature is much higher. I’m not mad about it. Ross is not some poor loser with no other prospects. You’ve earned your prestige, you can do with it what you want. But you writing about his novel being bad could never be a takedown.
I don't think it's punching "down" either.