In my recent review of Redeeming Love, I was pummeled for pointing out what I considered poor craft and patchy execution. The conversation took a turn when the “subjective nature of reading and reviewing” was introduced. And rather than discuss the merits and demerits of the book, the comments devolved into defenses for and against individual opinions.
After all, if good writing is subjective, the only thing we have is “individual opinions.” Which pretty much nullifies every opinion.
Okay. This is a discussion that has kept academics and artists squabbling for decades. Which means there’s definitely something elusive and abstruse about art and it’s appreciation that I won’t resolve here. Nevertheless, when I see someone — especially an artist, writer, performer, or reviewer — play the “art is subjective” card, I tend to see it as a defense of two things:
- Poor craft, and
- Personal tastes
Of course, it might be neither. I don’t think anyone disagrees that subjectivity is a part of reading and reviewing. My issue is when we use the argument to downplay poor craft or to justify lame opinions. For instance, last year I finally read Peace Like a River and thoroughly enjoyed it. Does everyone share my enthusiasm for the book? I don’t expect them to. However, many of the one-star reviews on Amazon are just unfounded. Now, I don’t expect professional-grade reviews on Amazon. That’s the downside of democratization. However, some of those reviews prove my point. Like this one-star review of Peace Like a River that dismisses the book on the grounds of… animal cruelty.
I struggled through shooting and wounding a snow goose and skipped many pages to try and avoid the awful details. Started reading again and they were out hunting Canadian geese. That was enough for me. I have no intention of continuing this book and would advise anyone who does not like to read about suffering animals to not even try it.
Everyone’s entitled to their opinion, you say. Amen. Then I’m entitled to mine: That is the STUPIDEST reason to give a book a one-star review. Just plain moronic. What about the story? The level of craft? The prose? Character development? Predictability? Suspense? Plot? Use of the language? Okay, so the characters hunted geese and you’re an animal lover. Go ahead and say that. But please don’t pan the book because you object to roasted goose.
And whatever you do, do not defend this review on the basis that art is subjective. Because this review has NOTHING to do with literature.
As one who is striving to become a better writer, I must believe there is a way to do so. Or is there? I mean, if a newbie approaches you and asks, “How do I become a better writer?” you’d probably say something like this:
- Read good books
- Study the craft
- Attend a workshop
- Listen to more experienced writers
- Seek out wise critique
However, the writer or reviewer who believes writing is totally subjective, has no ground whatsoever to give another writer advice. Why? Because the moment that you say “Good writing looks like this” you establish a standard by which to judge written things. And that’s what the subjectivist fears.
Andrew O’Hehir recently used the movie Soul Surfer as a springboard to ask Why are Christian movies so awful?
…it’s a trite, sentimental puddle of sub-Hollywood mush, with mediocre photography, weak special effects and an utterly formulaic script that somehow required seven (!) credited writers. Believe me, I have learned, over and over again, that ordinary moviegoers, a lot of the time, want to see a story that’s positive, predictable and not all that challenging, but even measured on that yardstick this one is pretty awful.
Christians will object to this review on numerous grounds. Some of those grounds might be valid. But the fact that O’Hehir gives reason for his argument, a “yardstick,” makes it more sustainable.
- Mediocre photography
- Weak special effects
- Formulaic script
Photography, special effects, and script are, dare I say, measurable. Sure, the author might hate Christians. Yes, he might be part of the grand conspiracy against faith-based product. Nevertheless, good photography, special effects, and scripts are not entirely subjective. And if you believe this, please watch some of these worst movies of all time and get back to me.
I spoke to an artist friend of mine who recently visited a show and was rather appalled by what he found. Evan’s gallery is in Laguna Beach. He paints what he calls “abscapes,” impressionistic landscapes using a particular acrylic. He is very conscientious. Anyway, during the show, Evan and his wife came upon a painting that stopped them in their tracks. It was a large blank canvas with a single hole in the center, slightly shaded, and puckered.
It was a sphincter.
Call me a Philistine, an uncultured dimwit. Yet someone who finds something profound in a rendition of a sphincter — much less, pays hundreds of dollars for it — is STUPID. Yes, that’s just MY subjective opinion. But dude, any way you look at it, it’s an asshole.
So go ahead, talk about taste, preference, and individual opinion. But all I see is a smokescreen.
I’m just so relieved to see that there is another Christian in the world that didn’t love Redeeming Love. I’m going to go read your review now, but all I can say is I just simply don’t talk about it when people bring it up anymore. I’ve gotten pummeled myself one too many times for not singing the praises of the book that “changed the way they thought of fiction.”
Uh, yeah. PLEASE let me recommend some other books . . . please. (One of which would probably be Peace Like A River. Love that book.)
And also I just feel the need to point out, “of COURSE you like the story. It’s based on a book of the Bible. How about the writing which isn’t quite as inspired?”
I’m usually surprised to find out how many readers don’t pay attention to craft. Maybe that’s the curse of being a reader/writer. Or in my case, wannabe writer 🙂
First, I would say what you’re talking about specifically is correct. That is, there are standards of what constitutes good writing. Maybe not hard and fast all the time, some writers break the rules and people praise their genius, but by and large the “rules” of writing are wisdom that’s been distilled from generations of writers about what, generally speaking, works and doesn’t work. And if you break them, you’d better learn what they are and break them on purpose to achieve a specific effect rather than out of ignorance.
In that sense, no writer should be lazy and avoid learning the craft, honing their skills, improving on the finer points of how to achieve certain ebbs and flows in one’s writing that produce the desired emotional attachment with the characters and the story.
But I think some are confusing that with reading a book, and what any one particular person, or even a host of people, likes and enjoys. Some books like Dan Brown’s, even though written poorly, captured a lot of people’s imagination and as we all know, despite its faults, became a best seller. Other examples could be found.
And it goes back to what your own agent said on her blog this week, that writing a good book, with all the I’s dotted and T’s crossed, doesn’t mean it will be a success. Likewise, books far inferior are likely to “make it” while your masterpiece can’t seem to break out of obscurity.
It is the reading and enjoyment of a story that is subjective. Not the writing of it. The most critical thing is whether the story connects with enough readers on an emotional level, and whether it gets out to enough people to generate some momentum. If it doesn’t do that, no amount of perfect craft is going to make it a “success.”
That said, because good writing doesn’t guarantee success is no excuse not to learn it, practice it, and use it. While it doesn’t guarantee success, it increases the odds substantially. And bad writing, despite the handful of examples one can cite of poorly written bestsellers, will more often than not sink any chances of the book becoming successful.
We can’t control whether someone out there will like and enjoy our book. We can control how well it is written. People who focus exclusively on the first as a reason not to do the latter are in most cases going to be shooting themselves in the foot. Yes, the whims of the crowds as to what is “good” and what is not is impossible to predict or control. So focus on what you can control that improves the odds that such success can happen, and leave the first in God’s hands.
Rick, I’m not so much speaking to what makes a book a success, although individual tastes and impressions are surely a part of that, but whether or not we use our “individual tastes” to gloss over, ignore, or justify bad craft or plain junk. You noted that Dan Brown’s books are “written poorly.” That’s all I’m talking about. We can wrangle about what makes his books work, but let’s be objective enough to admit it’s not his level of craft. Thanks for commenting!
Yep, I think I got that. 🙂 My thinking was more why when you are speaking about the objective side, some are coming at the subjective side, and trying to lay out where I think you and they are talking past each other, as best I can discern. I think some are thinking of the subjective “what does the reader like” criteria, and applying it wrongly to your point, that there is a level of objectivity in writing that makes a good book.
But that all depends on what any one particular person’s definition of “good” writing is. Some focus on the craft, as you are. Some focus on if it “works” for them. Some focus on pet peeves like killing animals. Some people as you mention they should, can take all those into a balanced review, others focus on one or the other to the exclusion of the rest, which is where I think you are headed in saying this is not a good thing, but something Christian writers are prone to do and the Christian market promotes because they just want anything with the Christian label on it to succeed, no matter whether it is worthy to do so or not.
Thanks for the article. 🙂
Hoo-boy. Just read the comment thread. Wowza.
Good review though. Thoughtful and critical. Not a problem in the world with that. Just the kind of review I’D want from someone who DIDN’T enjoy my book: the reasons without rudeness.
Ah….okay. First, I have to say that I find nothing wrong with reviewing a book and warning readers that it contains objectionable content and saying honestly that you hated it because of that. The problem is the “star rating” system. For example, Philip Pullman’s Dark Materials Trilogy. The man’s writing is quite good. As far as craft, etc, I’d have to rate him maybe a four. But the message of his books is abominable. It’s anti-Christian and offensive to me because of that. So how do I rate that? It’s not like someone rating a romance novel as a one-star when they simply hate romance as a genre. Pullman’s books are the genre I love–but I could never give them a good review based on the content, no matter how well-written.
Second, most readers are not writers and don’t know the first thing about “craft.” They know what they like, and not always why. You can’t expect the general public to review based on things that can be measured. Look at how many “poorly written” books are out there getting rave reviews. You mentioned Redeeming Love as one. Regardless of the craft, the book elicits strong emotions in readers. That is what they review based on–their reaction to the book. Not the details of craft. I actually find some writer’s reviews annoying because they focus too much on craft/rules and not enough on what non-writers care about.
Third, a perfectly crafted book or piece of art can be completely useless. I once saw a display of pencil sketches….of piles of trash. Literally, mounds of garbage. The technical skill was wonderful–the detail and shading, etc.–but who would want drawings of that? Hm, apparently someone :P.
Fourth, I agree wholeheartedly when it comes to art like you mention here (the sphincter)–talentless, ridiculous, obscene, done only for shock value or whatever. That kind of stuff has no value in either content or craft.
I guess my thoughts on the topic can be summed up like this: Truly great writing/art has both exceptional content and craft. Widely popular writing/art may need only one of those aspects to be strong. In either case, subjectivity plays a role–especially in content. But when you have neither good content nor good craft….I think that is the instance where the argument of subjectivity is simply no longer valid.
Great points, Kat. A couple of responses.
Parsing your thoughts on Pullman is a sign of a good reader and reviewer. You can distinguish between story elements, what worked and what turned you off. If you were to rate Pullman’s books, you would probably factor those things in (unlike the reviewer of Peace Like a River who gave it one star simply because of animal cruelty). That’s what I want in a reader and a reviewer, and is where I’m going with this post.
Second, though “most readers are not writers and don’t know the first thing about ‘craft,’ ” craft still plays a part in their experience. For instance, most film-goers don’t know much about cinematography. Nevertheless, cinematography can have a great influence upon the feel or mood of the movie. Then you have film students, aficionados, industry folks, and directors who bring their knowledge and expertise to every movie they watch. Which is why the Academy Awards has a category for Best Cinematography. So while a reader might not be able to articulate why a book did or didn’t work, elements of craft, unbeknown to them, still might influence their opinion.
In this regard, you mentioned Redeeming Love. I attempted to review the book on two fronts: craft and story. The craft, as I suggested was weak, inconsistent at best. This is what got me in trouble in that review. As far as story goes, I made a point to emphasize how I thought the “message” transcended the craft. While I agree with you that overemphasis upon dissecting craft can be annoying, I think the opposite — disregard for craft — can be equally true.
Kat, I appreciate your thoughts. Have a great week!
Mike, I do agree with your statement: “So while a reader might not be able to articulate why a book did or didn’t work, elements of craft, unbeknown to them, still might influence their opinion.”
I simply think it may not transfer over to the average reader being able to articulate it. I also think it’s a bit different with films and books–films tend to be poorly done when they are “low budget” and it’s a bit different that “poor craft”–although, those differences can be subjective :P.
I’m also NOT saying that craft should be ignored. I actually agree with you about Redeeming Love–not my favorite book and I thought your review of it was quite fair. I definitely believe Christian fiction should never be published simply because there’s a “message” without the writing itself being up to snuff. I’ve blogged about the same thing quite often!
Anyway, the review thing does bring to mind something else–the reader’s responsibility to evaluate reviews. We shouldn’t allow ourselves to be influenced by poorly balanced reviews. We need to learn to recognize a “stupid” reason for hating–or liking!–a book and be able to use that in our decision to read that book or not.
Okay, enough from me on that ;). You have a great week, too!
You just said what has been on my mind for quite some time now. I’ve been getting so discouraged about the future of (Christian) fiction because this idea is becoming disturbingly popular. I think it’s particularly bad among Christians (or maybe it’s only because I hang in Christian circles) because Christian art is frequently so bad, that we’ve built up this defense mechanism. Which, of course, hurts more than it helps.
But I agree. If it’s all subjective, there’s no way to improve. No advice to give. Nothing. And that thought is too frightening to even consider. The day talent becomes subjective is the day that worthwhile fiction dies. And the day I stop reading and writing.
Fortunately, I don’t think that day will ever come.
This reminds of one of Socrates’ dialogues with Hippias about what is “fine” — replace the word “fine” or “fineness” in that dialogue with “good art” and you’d get some interesting insights.
If it helps at all, I think that there’s has to be some objectivity when it comes to a medium involving language (even though language is, uh, subjective). As the saying goes, “words mean things”, and a sentence will may have an objective meaning because I intend it so. I’m not a linguist so I could be just pulling this out of thin air.
But there’s my piece…if it involves language there’s some kind of objectivity, though it might not necessarily be the objectivity of art.
I agree with this, Jay. There must be ” some objectivity when it comes to a medium involving language.” Which is why abstraction applies to visual arts easier than to literature. If not, then I might as well respond with this: Mhgyjh jhet m iu xaz ikuh j-fvj klh poj g dhgdf yg jkhkj!
“Mhgyjh jhet m iu xaz ikuh j-fvj klh poj g dhgdf yg jkhkj!”
I was just going to say that!
Speaking of Socrates – didn’t he say “Opinions without knowledge are ugly things.” ? And isn’t language one of the central pieces of evidence for objective reality?
***
Art has a huge subjective or visceral element to it, but there’s a rational one as well, so one of the questions I ask myself when approaching reading/writing (any art, really) is “Does it work?”
Clarity in communication means the artist has mastered enough technical skill to get their point across. I might not like the message, but I recognize their ability. I can gauge the piece “in toto” and discern its relative and various merits.
To answer your question, Mike, the answer is Yes. It’s a vicious smokescreen and sincerity has become an overrated virtue. There are objective standards and there are ways to improve on skills.
Obligatory Gene Siskel quote: “There is a point when a personal opinion shades off into an error of fact. When you say ‘The Valachi Papers’ is a better film than ‘The Godfather,’ you are wrong.”
That’s so funny you say that, Eric. In this post, I was going to compare “The Godfather” with “Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure.” But I didn’t want to be mauled by stoners, so I refrained.
Delurking to wander in random circles . . . The idea of objectivity in art of whatever type sounds good but leaves me puzzled. For example, sometimes I see a highly praised work of modern art or read a multiple prize winning literary book and my gut response is “????” no connection, no understanding, I just don’t “get” whatever amazing something is supposed to be there. Then I start wondering, 1) if I were better educated about “x” would I “get” it? 2) but if “x” is really all that special and amazing shouldn’t it also be accessible to those who lack that education? 3) is it really all one big shell game where a self-referential group decides worthy and what’s not? (thinking about events like the Oscars and Pulitzer prize) 4) who exactly is deciding and defining what “good”, “mediocre”, etc. is? and doesn’t that make it all subjective on some level anyway? 5) so where exactly does this much praised “objective” and “standard” come from?
Normally I don’t wander down this type of rabbit trail, but I haven’t finished my morning coffee yet. Sorry.
About the reviews. As a reader with no desire, ability, or inclination to be a writer, I appreciated both the reviews you gave as examples. The first review while highly personal and with no regard for plot, character, etc. did provide information that other who hold to similar views on animal crulety would find helpful in determining if the book was for them. For example, as a general rule I avoid fiction books that involve adultery. I just don’t want to read about adultery in my fiction no matter how well written, a totally subjective pet peeve I admit, but one I share with many others and a review that alerts me to that element in a book I’m considering is helpful to me. YMMV. The second review I found useful for the same reasons you did. To me both reviews filled specific but very different purposes.
KayS, thanks for “delurking.” As to your question about “who exactly is deciding and defining what ‘good’, ‘mediocre’, etc. is?” I think it’s a collective effort.
I remember hearing a man talk about a tour of some postmodern architecture. Stairs that went nowhere. Walls that jutted sideways. Doorways on the ceiling. The tour guide gushed about the innovation of the structure. To which the man replied, “I hope the foundation is sound.” Point being: even postmodern architecture demands a “modern” foundation. The same is true of language. We can’t stray too far from plain English without babbling. So in one sense, elementary grammar and composition, clarity and concision, are “foundations” to judging literature. Most educated adults can tell the difference between a poorly written statement and well-written one.
Secondly, even though academics do disagree, for the most part we have a large canon of “consensus” on elements of good craft. Stephen Koch in his Writer’s Workshop describes it as ” a vast, largely untapped literature on technique.” Most good craft books cover the same ground in different ways, but I think raise a reasonable bar for what should be considered good writing. There will always be certain elites who try to elevate abstraction to sublimity. But, for the most part, I think there’s a middle ground that most writers and readers would agree on.
Hey, thanks so much for your comments!
For example, sometimes I see a highly praised work of modern art or read a multiple prize winning literary book and my gut response is “????” no connection, no understanding, I just don’t “get” whatever amazing something is supposed to be there.
This is a conversation we often have in the circles I live in. Circles where Neal Stephenson writes some of the best work in the world…work that actually sells too.
I’m a genre fiction fan, and have little love for “literary fiction”–stuff a la Franzen and Foster Wallace.
What I and others have started noticing over the last 15 years or so is that most literary fiction is written by and for a specific segment of people. Just like Genre fiction. As it happens, however, those who run literary review columns and magazines are also the specific segment for whom those books are written. So you get the NYT Review Of Books praising this or that book that really only speaks to that circle of people with those specific values and experiences.
This is another reason to bless the internet. As it has become more widely established, the internet has done a much better job of connecting readers with well-crafted works to match their tastes and experiences.
Great post, Mike. I love the one star review of Peace Like A River. I noticed how bizarre some of the reviews are on Amazon after my book was published. One guy gave my book one star because he loved it and was angry that there wasn’t a sequel.
But my favorite one star review I’ve read has to be for Steinbeck’s East of Eden in which the reviewer says he gave it one star because all of the characters live on farms “except for the whores and the others.” Here’s a link to his full review. http://bit.ly/f3JzVz
Matt, I love your series on one-star reviews! Really great idea. Thanks for visiting.
Art must have craft, and it must appeal to a universal human experience. By universal, I mean a theme or image that resonates w/ a lot of people throughout time. In Redeeming Love, I assume the universal would be the one encased in the title. This theme appeals to a wide audience. I know this subject isn’t as black and white as I’m attempting to make it–because there are so many levels of craft. And then there’s that indefinable x factor that gives art transcendence into great art. Because the x factor is difficult to define, a good review of art usually will examine the craft and the universal. And sometimes the universal is enough. Think of Vincent van Gogh, for example. Some of his craft was simply awful, but his themes and his x-factor have transcended the poor craft. Thankfully, there are people out there who can restore his paintings (though we may never know exactly what they looked like to begin with), as well as archive them. Francine Rivers may lack the x factor, and her craft may not be enough to carry the theme for many readers. Except that she’s a bestselling author–so? I have no idea.
Maybe I need to factor in emotional manipulation by means of trauma. I’m joking–a little. The author of The Shack used this method–traumatized his audience at the beginning so that he effectively masked the incredulity of the story along w/ the poor writing that came after.
Okay, that’s enough. Sometimes I’m just full of sh*t.
Agreed. If there is ultimately no objective standard by which we must base our judgment we have no basis on which to make that judgment. Opinions vary and tastes change but there has to be some measure of craftsmanship in any artistic piece whether it be writing, painting, photography etc. A photograph may have great subject matter but if the image is blurry ( and not intentionally so ) the subject will be lost upon the viewer.
Well several here have finally nailed what I apparently missed the mark on when trying to explain myself in earlier threads about this same topic. R.L. comes closest to my sentiments. Of course I believe every writer should hone their craft and give their best possible effort to write well. Otherwise I wouldn’t have done four drafts of my novel, submitted to a varied group of readers to pick apart as they please and given a well noted author permission to break my writer’s heart one painful layer at a time.
The subjectivity is not in the writer but in the reader. Samuel Johnson said, “A writer only begins a book. A reader finishes it.” And yes, I do think the term is often used as a crutch by many writers who are unwilling to submit themselves to the rigors of the editorial process.
With all that said, it is possible to come across as unwittingly pretentious when I began to point out to others how they should see the obvious failures in any from of art. We may not like it but sometimes beauty really is in the eye of the beholder – at least for the beholder
Oh, and I agree about your Stupid comment. 😀
I don’t read Christian fiction any more (or haven’t, in a long time), and I don’t say that with any arrogance.
It’s just that I have never read any Christian fiction that even approaches the level of writing that I find in The Best American Short Stories series, and that’s the level I enjoy now. (Granted – there is a WHOLE lot of secular fiction that doesn’t approach that level…and I don’t read THOSE, either.)
I’ve been thinking about this and it frustrates me. I don’t know if it’s possible for Christian fiction to even get to that level, because CF requires a resolution, a tidy wrap-up. Also, those other stories (the incredibly-written ones) often contain a lot of cynicism and despondency, I guess; and CF can’t have that!
I hate that I live in a world where Stephenie Meyer sells a zillion copies, but most people (Christian or non) have never heard of Alice Munro.
Good post. But the writing in CF frustrates me. Some of it’s “not bad,” but none of it’s “amazing.”
It just occurred to me…I wonder if part of the reason CF never “rises above,” is that Christian writers mostly READ Christian fiction. So they would have no idea to what heights writing can rise. I’ve met few people who read the BASS series (although Billy Coffey is one.)
Tell you what Cathy, I just ordered the Best American Short Stories 2010 from Amazon, now you order Lost Mission by Athol Dickson. When we finish reading we can compare notes.
I interview and converse with a number of noted Christian fiction authors and the one thing that has always struck me is how little Christian fiction most of them read.
Really? That’s very interesting. I wonder why it all sounds the same, then…at least the stuff I’ve read!
I don’t know many Christian authors. I was basing my statement off of what I’ve observed on Twitter, and from the few writers I know IRL.
It’s entirely possible that (what I consider to be) exquisite fiction writing is just really, really, really hard to do…and only a tiny percentage of the world’s population can do it.
I will say that Christian writers are writing some terrific blogs…they seem to do much better at the NF stuff.
Who are some secular fiction writers you like? (That info tells me where people are coming from.) 🙂
Thanks for engaging.
Secular fiction? I’m so eclectic you’ll find me wandering all over my local used book store. For kicks I picked up The Unvanquished by William Faulkner to see if I was just brain dead in my college days. I was, but Faulkner is still an acquired taste (Noble Laureate not withstanding). Been on a Dean Koontz jag of late simply because I like what he does with prose and description.
“At least the stuff I’ve read” is a good disclaimer. I’ve mentioned before that one of the problems is the pool of works to draw from in Christian fiction is more limited that general fiction. My firm belief is the percentage of great writing to crap is about the same in both markets. It would just take so much longer to read all the general market has to prove that and frankly I don’t have the time or stomach for it.
So are you up to the challenge?
I have pretty strict reading limitations these days, since I am a full-time Mom to two toddler boys! I have SO little time to read that my to-be-read stack now fills a shelf and a half. I get up really early in the morning to read, but it’s never enough. And I read at least half NF, so…
Anyway, since you’ve already ordered the BASS 2010, do this: after you’ve read it, if you think there is any Christian fiction that remotely resembles the stuff in BASS, then shoot me a tweet or a blog comment and give me a name. Then I will check that person’s work out from the library and give it a shot.
🙂
Art has an objective and subjective component, as well as multiple objective components that color the subjective experience.
Take, for example, a certain wildly popular melodramatic teen series. It’s objectively melodramatic, but objecting to melodrama in itself is a subjective call unless you pull in the objective aspects that are wrong with that melodrama, like the over-the-top prose that was intended to be taken seriously. (I found the book silly, myself, and enjoyed it for laughs. But then, I also read it before it was wildly popular.)
Evidently, though, the story did something objectively right, to resonate with so many teenagers and their mothers, despite the numerous objective issues with it. In this particular case, I think the author did do a good job of connecting with the emotions of her target audience: those with more sensibility than sense, to use the terms like Jane Austen did. She didn’t try to connect with readers with more sense than sensibility, who want to clock Mopeward or Jerkob in the nose.
I’m really leery about getting into a conversation that tries to distill the main component of Postmodernism, especially since my rudeness is once again an issue…
But I’ll call upon that characteristic rudeness to say this:
As others have said before me, READING is subjective. What each reader brings to the work is how she integrates with the story.
The issue then becomes an awareness on the writer’s part of _what current readers HAVE to bring to the story_. Charles Dickens wrote in an age without television or movies. He knew that readers brought their entire raw imaginations to his pieces and therefore packed them full of lengthy, detailed and often captivating descriptions and imagry. Readers with imaginations now made lazy by special effects and drunkenly spoiled by having dragons come into their home on small boxes often have no patience for Dickens’ style. That includes me. I have to have a bad cold and a specific mood to tolerate much of his stuff, with the exception of _Tale of Two Cities_. There are other classic books I have no patience with: Jane Austen bothers me because even though I see the craft at work in her stories the people central to them are grating. And so on. My dislike of those works doesn’t negate the quality of craftsmanship, it merely says that what I brought to the story didn’t make a successful marriage. I would still rate most of those books a higher level for their execution.
There is value in postmodernism because it keeps us safe from the dangers of oligarchy and dictatorship. By emphasising the merits of individuality postmodernism underscores the truth that all are created equal. As a political philosopher I will always love postmodernism for that alone. But in weighing the merits of craft it has become an idiots’ symphony. Everyone plays the song he likes and the cacophany is jarring.
The other day one of my favourite writers mentioned (jokingly?) wanting to put a gun in his mouth after reading all of the one-star reviews of his book on Amazon. I’d read those reviews earlier and knew that most of them were complaining about the book being too long. Very little discussion of craft in all but a handful. I told him what I tell every author I know when they start quavering over reviews.
1. Go to Amazon.
2. Pick your favourite classic book.
3. Read the 1-star reviews for that.
Somebody always hates something. Heck, I’d give Moby Dick a one-star review if I cared to spend any more of my time talking about that dreadful slog of a tedious nightmare of a book. (<—-look! Rudeness! As promised.)
That is the other wonderful thing about postmodernism. It allows us to see individual opinions for what they are and to discount those opinions on merit.
I’m more skeptical of postmodern theory as it relates to literature, particularly when it veers into deconstruction. Personally, I have no problem with someone giving Moby Dick (or Peace Like a River) a one-star rating. I just expect more to their grade than “I don’t believe in hunting whales (or snow geese).” However, the more sway postmodern exercises, the more validity we give to just those types of opinions. Appreciate your comments, Katherine.
I suspect I got a little too praise-y for postmodernism (a discipline of thought I love in politics but hate in literature and religion) . It does sort of read like I’m saying “give postmodernism a chance.” Let’s blame the flu, shall we?
My more concise and even ruder position would be that postmodernism is a failure when applied to any discipline that nourishes people in mind, body or soul. Because there are _facts_ that cannot be gotten away from no matter how much you’d like to celebrate difference. A Postmodernist may like ice cream for every meal but that cannot in any way get around the fact that your body MUST have nourishment from other types of food. Likewise, A Postmodernist may celebrate the many faiths of the world but can’t really find a way to make “I am the way the truth and the life, no man cometh unto the father but by me” reconcile.
Literature isn’t religion or food but there are certain standards that we know apply to good literature. We know it because we’ve been telling stories for as long as we’ve been eating and praying and we know the difference between The Hero’s Journey and What I Had For Breakfast.
Speaking of the “subjectivity” question, anyone want to offer any thoughts as to what the typical CBA response would be these days if a Christian author were to incorporate a nonbelieving yet sympathetic character (someone who might make us think, ‘OK, I can see where he/she is coming from’) who may even be a little hostile toward the Faith? I ask because I can’t recall running across too many such characters in my CF reading and haven’t read many CF books lately…and wasn’t sure if the landscape had changed?
Well, Mike’s book (which I’m not sure is technically CBA) sort of has one. He’s not really THAT sympathetic in the end but the fellow starts off with making a few good points.
Patrick Todoroff’s _Running Black_ has several characters who are outright hostile and/or dismissive of Christianity. But they are sympathetic characters. In fact they’re pretty much the actual anti-heroes of the story. I don’t know that he has positioned that book for CBA consumption though. I kind of doubt it, although it’d be fun if he had.
It’s kind of a two parter, your question. I’m running into more Christian Fiction that stretches the rules, if we assume that by “Christian Fiction” one means “a book that has an overtly Christian character and espouses tenets of Christianity openly.” But I’m also running into those books as being on the fringes of ABA publishing. I think they’re in the long run going to find a better home in that half of the world.
Thanks for the tip of the hat here, Katherine. There’s no way RB would work for CBA.
It certainly has changed in the realm of suspense. Here are few examples of the kind of hero you are speaking of:
1) Patrick Bowers in Steven James’ series (Pawn, Rook, Knight, and soon to come Bishop)
2) Nick Polchak in Tim Down’s “Bug Man” series.
3) Roland March in “Back on Murder” by J. Mark Bertrand
The first two represent a an unbelieving MC that has been given a long story arch over multiple installments of a series. After four novel, Tim Down’s finally had his MC, Nick Poclhack, having a bit of an epiphany but yet without resolution.
Those rolled off the top of my head in 30 seconds. Now quick, what was the last general fiction work anyone read that had a sympathetic follower of Christ (not counting any that were depicted as a nut job) as the main character?
Tim, you make a valid point about the last GF work with a sympathetic Christ follower. But I’m not talking about a sympathetic, nonbelieving MC; I’m talking about a sympathetic, nonbelieving side character. In an idea I’m currently developing, one of my characters is a medium passionate about giving people comfort by “connecting” them with deceased friends/relatives. Though I wholeheartedly disagree with using mediums, I want the character to be sympathetic. How might this go over, do you think?
Nathan, whatever you do please do not make your spirit medium a cuddly black character. I beg you. Keep the magic negro tropes well away from your work. The Shack had enough of that for five lifetimes, but unfortunuately for Christian Fiction I keep seeing people do this.
Tim, in answer to your question, it’s very easy for Christian fiction to have sympathetic main characters who are unbelievers as THE WHOLE POINT of most CF is for a sort of Hero’s Journey from unbelief into salvation. One could argue that Pilgrim’s Progress had for a good portion of its early story a non-christian sympathetic main character. Because until Pilgrim becomes Christian…He’s Pilgrim.
_Pillars of The Earth_ did a very good job with a Christian as a Main Character. In fact that is one of my favourite books of all time, and Brother Phillip is one of my favourite characters of all time. His journey and conflict were to get his Cathedral built. (For that matter, Tom Builder was also a sort of Christian, but not as philosophically minded as Brother Phillip.) It’s ironic, though, that Brother Phillip is the creation of an atheist.
Another fine classic of modern secular fiction with a Christian main character is _A Prayer For Owen Meany_. Owen is a Christian and the focus of the narrative. The narrator, John, is also a committed Christian facing doubts. In telling Owen’s story we see him wrestle with his faith and come to a greater understanding of it.
I’m wrestling not with my faith but the flu at the moment and can’t access parts of my brain. But when I come up with more examples I’ll gladly share them with you. Oh yes, Does Jean ValJean count? I mean does _Les Mis_ count? Probably not since it’s an older work.
Personally, I have found that the more I am enjoying a book or movie, the more I overlook the flaws. And the more I am annoyed/bored with it, the more I can pick out the flaws. Those strengths and weaknesses of craft may be there for both of these works, but I only see them when I am not caught up in the story.
Take a book I just finished. It was co-written by two authors alternating chapters. As a result, the characters take on all kinds of strange personality quirks depending on who is writing which chapter. The plot seems to wander all over the place for much of the time. But I was laughing my head off and enjoying it.
On the other hand, all the wonderful craft in the world means nothing if the story is so long it literally puts me to sleep every time I try to experience it. Case in point, I can’t stand Lord of the Rings. The books need to be cut in half to be readable. And the movies are long and overblown. The entire thing has side trips which mean nothing to me at all. Yet I have lots of friends who love them. Am I really off base when I point out that pages of talking about trees is boring in a novel? Or is it that I just can’t connect to the characters and the series is a brilliant piece of literature?
Mark, I think you’re illustrating my point perfectly here. Of the book you just finished reading, you pointed out several technical flaws. Then you admitted that you enjoyed the book. When I’m reading a review, that’s what I need to hear, about craft, story, and personal impressions. But PLEASE don’t tell me you didn’t like the Lord of the Rings just because there’s talking trees. That will ruin everything for me. 😉
Don’t worry. I didn’t get as far as the talking trees when reading Lord of the Rings. I only made it about half way through Fellowship of the Ring. That took me a month, and I couldn’t take it any more. It’s the last book I didn’t finish, and that was 10 years ago.
@ Tim & Katherine….I’d add this one to your list: The Name of the Rose by Umberto Eco. The protag-team (Adso of Melk, and Brother William) were multi-dimensional believers (meaning, they had doubts and faults along with their two distinctive faith journeys)…and were not “nut jobs.”
@ Mike: Yes, I believe subjectivity can be used, by some, as a means with which to justify half-hearted effort and lazy craft, in the name of Art. At the same time, (as others have pointed out in the thread) “objectively good” craft/writing can be a moving target…based on factors such as the times we live in, the specific books we’ve been exposed to, the teachers whose voices we choose to follow, and the style/genre we write. Subjectively, we all applaud certain styles or elements of craft, and people will always differ on what should be included in that canon (as you put it at the very beginning of your post: “what I considered poor craft”). But once we verbalize the ground rules….Here’s what *I* mean, specifically, by “good craft”…then we can objectively measure whether a text meets that defined standard or not.
It’s objective fact that Francine Rivers uses pronouns like Stephen King uses profanity. And I happen to personally agree with your position…overuse (of anything) becomes distracting. But, as the comments show, some don’t feel that the plethora of pronouns are a craft problem.
That’s why I really like your approach to reviews: Be honest, upfront, and specific about the yardstick *you* use to measure works of fiction.