… that we haven’t had time to write about:
- At the Observer, someone wonders, “Why Do Young Male Writers Love Icky Tough Guy Deadbeats?“ (His examples: Chuck Palahniuk, Benjamin Kunkel, Charles Bock.) I’ll venture some answers. Because young male writers idolize old male writers, generally, and those old male writers have always been fascinated by icky tough guy deadbeats. Because there is a vast sense among a certain type of Sad Young Literary Dude that this is social criticism, this solipsistic devotion to young male loserdom. Because our society congratulates men whenever they write exclusively about themselves, and it gets called literature; when women write exclusively about themselves, it’s a frickin’ subgenre (chick lit, Southern Ontario women’s soft-core porn, etc.). Yeah, I’m kind of angry about the dudely state of contemporary lit in New York, can ya tell?
- SLB at Racialicious highlights Sundance hit “Push,” based on Sapphire’s novel about a black teenager who leads a bleak existence as a victim of incest and teenage mom of two, and talks about her concerns about the bleakness of it all.
- The NYTimes covers women’s roller derby, a subculture a guy I once dated wanted me to know was “very feminist” because the “girls are awesome.” He reminded me of this at least thirty times in the 2 months we dated. It does seem like they might be, but I have never been to see it. I did enjoy this line from the article: “It may surprise some that the idea for women-only derby was a man’s.”
- Anybody want to come with me to the “True Women ’09” conference? I do so long for my femininity to bear fruit.
oh I’m angry about it too. It’s not a new development though – look at Fante, Bukowski and my personal bugbear Kerouac. One of the things I most loathe about them is that the young men who worship at their altars insist that they and only they wrote about the pain of drink well, to which I want to say really, have you actually read Jean Rhys? Not only did she say it better, she managed to say it in a quarter of the space and without the self-indulgent ‘I must be a writer’ subtext. (Although I’ll give Fante a bit more of a break here by dint as he’s the best writer of the three)
Do I sound bitter? It’s because there was a period in my life when every man I went out with either wanted me to worship Bukowski or listen solely to Steely Dan. It was a very depressing time. Oddly enough I didn’t feel compelled to comply but it’s why I have struggled to find much worth in any of the three writers you mentioned – although I quite like the second Palahniuk novel, the one with the religious cult and the plane crash.
fuckin, Bukowski man. I had a nemesis in high school who hated me from afar and then later from up close. When I was young and stupid I felt the need to try and charm her even though each attempt only brought more disapproval and patronization. She was a skater, friends with all the punk boys and looooved Bukowski. She was also libertarian and admired Ayn Rand unironically!!! She totally excoriated my AP English paper on misogyny in DH Lawrence, and the teacher ate it up. I think that should tell us all something! That something being, I basically haven’t progressed past high school. And neither have Bukowski fans. OR libertarians. I think I need coffee.
Ooh, I’ll go to the conference! My femininity is totally bearing fruit! But it did so through living in sin. Will they whisk my baby away from my godless arms?
Yeah, emilyanne, I totally hate all those guys too, and they have no idea who any of these female writers are, or if they do, they think of them as lesser. “I just don’t understand her!” But as soon as you say you find it hard to relate to Bukowski, they’re on your ass about how not all literature has to be about you, and it’s like, yeah, motherfucker, I know BECAUSE BARELY ANY OF IT IS.
Ahem.
@emilyanne: “Do I sound bitter? It’s because there was a period in my life when every man I went out with either wanted me to worship Bukowski or listen solely to Steely Dan.”
This made me laugh.
The Observer article is interesting to me as a former creative writing student and someone who will maybe write things for real one day. Writing angry, as some guy notes in the article, is indeed fun. But it doesn’t come naturally to me. Speaking only for myself, of course, I think I feel more pressure for my protagonists (particularly those speaking in the first-person, who readers will most likely assume to be me) to be liked. And angry women, on average, are not well-liked.
@emilyanne: Gawd do I hate Jack Kerouac. In fact, his was the first name that came to mind when I was writing my comments in last week’s thread about literature except I don’t really like his work, only a few lines I appreciated in excerpts from his stuff. I won’t even attempt to read any of them in their entirety. Life is too short.
Yeah, who is the last misanthropic female narrator you can think of in contemporary lit? The teacher in Zoe Heller’s Notes on a Scandal I guess.
I take it this is a safe space to say I’ve never gotten William Burroughs appeal either?
@robot ninja spy: I’m hoping this is a safe space to say I hate Holden Motherfucking Caulfield. Talk about Young Male Loserdom.
@sarah.of.a.lesser.god: I hated Holden when I first read the book, but I’ve reread it since then and he’s sort of grown on me. But in a “You poor, deluded little boy” sort of a way.
I really hated Notes on a Scandal too though. Many I am part of the problem.
and by many I mean maybe. Harpyness.com just told me I am posting comments too quickly and need to slow down! If only all websites had such a face saving function.
@sarah.of.a.lesser.god: I’m sooo glad I never had to read Catcher in the Rye. I periodically take a break from reading random things that interest me to flip through Great Literary Masterpieces that I was never assigned in school and I flipped through a few pages of that and was just like, NO. I don’t give a shit if I look stupid and poorly read for not taking valuable time from reading my usual bios and history books for boring dreck. Sorry.
Not.
@robot ninja spy: Marry me? We can read pages from my Catherine de Medici bio to one another.
YAY! I love biographies. I cannot read them fast enough. So I’m comparing my thoughts on this post to my thoughts on last week’s post and I’m thinking… I read Jan Kerouac’s Trainsong– in totally the wrong order; I found a copy of that in a used bookstore and I was going to hold out until I found a copy of Babydriver, but whatever. I didn’t. I read it and I loved it!
Now you could argue that Jan was a slacker, too, at least during the period of her life she wrote about there. If she was a friend of mine, there probably would’ve been a lot of shoulder-grabbing and shaking, like, “Dude, WTF are you doing with your life???” But she’s enjoyable to read. So I’m trying to articulate why that is– because I’m not sure “she just is!” will cut it.
I insist that you not slow down, Ms. Regent! Though we do like to go that extra mile here at Harpyness, we encourage smart wimmenz (and menz) to post early and often.
Notes on a Scandal was interesting, but I had several thoughts on how it could have been better – the author was caught between the fun of having such a bitchy old woman as a protagonist and giving real context to how she arrived at such a personality, the latter of which would have distracted her from her bitchery. Margaret Laurence, in The Stone Angel, understood that a bit better.
sarah.of.a.lesser.god – is it the Leonie Frieda biography of Catherine that you’re reading?
jdregent, I found Notes on a Scandal interesting but not amazing.
I didn’t actually mind Catcher in the Rye, I think the book itself is fine, I just don’t like the hagiography surrounding the character as I don’t believe it’s what Salinger intended.
@emilyanne: Yup, that’s the one. I think it’s pretty good. And it makes me want to go to Paris!
sarah.of.a.lesser.god, I really enjoyed it. Catherine de Medici was my childhood heroine, don’t ask why. ps everyone should go to Paris.
i will go to the “true women 09″ conference with you… to cause as much trouble as possible.
I felt like it was lesbo-phobic. No?
I love Catcher in the Rye and everything Salinger wrote. At its root I think Catcher is about a longing for authenticity and connection with other people. I haven’t read it in a long time, though. But Franny and Zooey is one of my favorite books. And even though Salinger is actually misanthropic (the whole hermit lifestyle), I think his books are about wanting to love but not being sure how.
All I know is that I’m soooooooooo sick of how all contemporary literature (esp. by men) seems to have rape and/or incest. Please. No more.
Random theory: Most people cope with depression and whatnot through, you know, trying to improve at least their own life or someone else’s, even if it’s some random kid in Africa.
This artistic type of male, of which I likely am one, rather than deal with the horrid world, prefer instead to romanticize pain and depression. Making wallowing in it somehow representative of great art. In turn, it’s a simple jump to create characters we imagine to be realistic, because we likely haven’t actually talked to a stranger in a decade. So, the masochistic nature takes great pleasure in having a so-called badass who is a completely depressed alcoholic asshole being the hero/anti-hero of whatever story we create. Thus, we think we’re making a scathing remark upon society as a whole, and quite likely, critics only go into that profession because they love work such as I described in a rampantly useless generalization.
So yes, the patriarchal modern fiction might be completely useless to the betterment of humanity, but then again, it’s quite likely that you could say the same of me.
John, never of you, I loved your comment, not only did it make me laugh but it’s also very probably true. ps I don’t hate all such literature, just the badly written stuff (which is why I gave Fante a break, self-indulgent yes, well written absolutely).
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