Constant Reader discussion
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Handicapping Future Classics

http://www.gutenberg.org/catalog/

Sure, someone like Cormac McCarthy is a shoe-in. Everyman's Library already has his Border Trilogy as a modern classic. But we've been naming a lot of heavy lifters. Despite my comments about popularity, reaching out to a wider audience, if it's enduring and has some substance, counts too.
PS: And books never going out-of-print is a bit of a double edged sword. I'd love to see Stephenie Meyers go out-of-print.

I must say that I'm amazed that John Irving, Stephen King and Garrison Keillor are suggested as writers of classics. My impression is that JI started off reasonably well with Garp, but has sadly fallen off, SK never had a chance, and the GK's book is pleasant fluff. I hope I'm not stepping on anybody's feelings here. Just my personal reaction.

Even if I liked these author's books, I wouldn't be offended. There are plenty of books I enjoy, but realize that they probably won't be read 100 years from now. And I agree with you that Irving, King, and Keillor will be Who?, Huh? and Wha--? in the 22nd century.
(If this posts lasts that long and Carrie carries on, I hope someone finds my skull and immortalizes it with an "Alas, poor Yorick" speech about my great handicapping abilities.)
Remember, statistically we're talking less than 1% of books someday becoming "canon fodder," don't you think? It's like teenaged jocks who say they want to grow up and play in the MLB, NBA, or NFL. Good and luck to you because your odds are slim and none.

Even if I liked these author's books, I wouldn't be offended. There are plenty of books I enjoy, but realize that th..."
Oh, you're not stepping on my feelings, Newengland. I agree with you.
I think Toni Morrison's Beloved might attain classic status, though.

Agreed, Steve. I'm no mathematician, but when you consider the daunting number of books published every year... whew!
I meant earlier to pick up on a thread Jodyanna brought up and Whitaker ran with. Jodyanna wrote:
Assignment to the "classics" realm, for me, must have something to do with the reads ability to speak about the human condition across time that touches us intellectually and at the level of the soul....
This about nails it for me. There's even a book out there with a title that says something like "There Are Only Twelve Stories" and then states that they are things like "The Quest" or "Father Murder" or "A Stranger Comes to Town," etc. The point? We seem to like variations on a theme, and we like it even better when an author takes "the Ecclesiastes Challenge" by taking "nothing new under the sun" and making it shine in a new way.
I also agree that classic works have legs because the human condition (or the "soul," as jodyanna would have it) never changes. People are people, no matter the time in history, the culture, the condition they're in, or whatever. If an author can make that basic truth sing to us, his or her work is going to have lasting power and will never be trivialized by its time in history.
Whitaker brings up Dickens writing for money and Dumas writing a romp. Still, I'd submit that Dickens' pathos taps into sincere emotions (the one that comes out when you're alone, maybe, and drink too much wine and feel sorry for yourself). He also has a way of finding the universal "injustice" nerve that we all harbor. Newsflash: sentimentality lies even in hardened cynics. How else did they get that way, if not by having their sentimentality burned so often? Dickens had his finger on the pulse of that sentimentality thing, for sure. And his characters were so damned quirky (like Sherwood Anderson's grotesques in Winesburg, Ohio) that we couldn't help but pay notice. Uriah Heep is hard to ignore!
Ditto Dumas. If we look at The Count of Monte Cristo, we see one of those universal themes at work: revenge. And books that entertain and do it well, that speaks volumes too. The literary snobs love to frown upon plot (it's the stuff of bestsellers, don't you know), but some classics get through the door on the plot card, too. One part universal theme (revenge) and one part breath-taking plot (swashbuckling, etc.) gets The Count of Monte Cristo into the canon. Care to match that small feat? A lot of authors have tried ever since (think Arturo Perez-Reverte), but it's not as easy as it looks (just like writing like Ernie Hemingway looks easy, until you try and realize what you're writing is unintentional parody).
Well, it's as good a theory as I can come up with. Romeo & Juliet (young love against adult wishes), The Scarlet Letter (young love against society and church mandates), Huckleberry Finn (racism, the ethics of "owning" humans), A Separate Peace (the thin line between love and hate in close friendships), The Catcher in the Rye (personal struggle against society's hypocrisies and phoniness), A Farewell to Arms (war is hell, especially when you're in love in a time of war) -- they all hit on universal themes we can identify with because there's a piece of it in all of us.
Somehow certain books capture "that certain essence" of the human condition -- man, woman, child, Russian, Rwandan, Romanian, Roman times, Renaissance times, Roaring 20's times. Time plays the slave when it comes to classics.
And somehow all the "classic ingredients" add up to a near unattainable "grail." Just ask the vast majority of writers whose life purpose and artistic mission is to seek admission....

Newengland, ran with it is exactly correct. :-) I looked at the list of titles on the Western Canon and I'd be damned but I couldn't see what they had in common. I thought it would be an interesting thought experiment to see what authors were or are formerly popular in this century to ponder if they might make it. I remember Norman Mailer and AJ Cronin being lauded in my youth, oh, some 20-30 years ago, but I don't think their reputations have survived the turn of the century.
I don't think Stephen King will make it either, but the gods of the classics seem to be fairly capricious beings with a penchant for the odd joke. I like your way of defining what is likely to last and that I guess does pretty much answer my question as to how the titles there now made it. So, for me, I guess, that thought experiment was a fairly useful thing. :-)

http://www.interleaves.org/~rteeter/g...
It a fascinating list. I'm kind of glad that Moliere's Le Medecin Malgre Lui didn't make it. I just watched a production of it in France, and let's just say that some bits would not have been out of place in an Adam Sandler comedy.
Newengland, you set out the 'universality' of the human condition so nicely. Bravo.
Matters and stirrings of the heart may beat different, speak different, dress and live different but all intersect on Love, Compassion, Happiness and Empathy, their delights, dilemmas and downfalls. From 'Socrates' to 'Salinger' thankfully for us, they turned to words to give breath to their heart/mind creations.
(Oh, meant to mention earlier, I believe David Mitchell's use of the self-contained chapter/episodic format is notoriously difficult to nail effectively, but it's an inspired one when he does it)
May I offer a quote from W.B. Yeats.
'The creations of a great writer are little more than the moods and passions of his own heart, given surnames and christian names, and sent to walk the earth.
(happy to have found Constant Reader, facinating insights from facinating folks here.)


http://www.interleaves.org/~rteeter/g...
It a fascinating lis..."
This may not be "the" list, but most academics (that I know) agree that Bloom is the foremost expert on the western canon, and so I expect that his list carries more weight than the others and his will most likely become "the" list.

I also enjoyed Bloom’s list. Thanks for it, Whitaker. But, wow, does it make me feel small. I better find more time to read.
Then, to second Phillip’s post, my bias is always towards “fiction”, so it was a good reminder to have poetry and plays included in the "Canon".

Good point! I suggest Peter Schaeffer's Amadeus and Royal Hunt of the Sun.

Capitu, if you want a more manageable Bloom list to conquer, I suggest taking a look at Bloom's
How to Read and Why.

Ah me.

Sherry, Ruth, et al., I find that that old discussion..."
The thing I didn't like about The Bone People was that it was this very, very dark book about very troubled people and then everyone ends up happy and at a sort of party in the end. Everyone's problems are suddenly resolved. That really turned me against what I thought, until then, was a very good book.
Maybe it's just me, but that's how I feel about it. It almost felt to me like I was reading a different book.

Most of them, I don't even want to read. I'm not sure what that says about me. LOL

How to Read and Why.
Thanks, Erin. I think I will look it up. So often I feel lost among the many recommendations here, maybe Bloom would help me sort through it all.
But, looking more closely at his list, I noticed that “The Bone People” did not make it. Neither did “To Kill a Mockingbird” or “The Three Musketeers”. Which I think brings back the argument that a degree of popularity, and not only the acceptance of scholars, makes it “a classic”.


Most of them, I don't even want to read. I'm not sure what that says about me. LOL.
To me, it says you're honest. Looking at Bloom's HUGE list, I am quickly humbled. Has he read all of these books? (Probably.) And does he have a life? (Probably not.)
Just kidding. Please don't tell Harold on me (else he take his purple crayon to me).
Looking over his vast list, I cannot even find Dumas. How did THAT happen? I thought old Dumas (or "Dumb Ass" as a fellow teacher loved to call him) made every list of classic French Lit. Think again, I guess.
In any event, lists are a lot of fun and can be used to intimidate, amuse, or inform. Harold's list, while useful, only proves I am overmatched. I could never read all this books and would never want to.
You see, in some cases reading a classic can be like swimming an Olympic-sized pool underwater. You need to come up for air. Often, after reading a classic, I need to switch gears and do some literary slumming. Read a YA book. Read some quick poems and short stories. Check in with a contemporary entertainer like Tom Perrotta.
Of course, the same holds true the other way. After too much light fare, I get antsy for some challenge. I need some gravitas added to my oatmeal, thank you. It's what kept me going back to the Russkies of the 19th century (I do pretty well, even in the Blooming challenge of Harold's List in that category).
Have you ever read Michael Dirda? He's a fun critic who loves reading and loves classics. I enjoyed his book of personal picks among the classics (canon variety and pretenders as well). I'm providing a link to amazon only because it includes the "Look Inside" feature, allowing you to view the Table of Contents. Here it is, a book title that's almost an oxymoron, Classics for Pleasure:
http://www.amazon.com/Classics-Pleasu...
Note how he groups classics by categories like "Playful Imaginations," "Heroes of Their Time," "Everyday Magic," "The Dark Side," and "Traveler's Tales." I liked that and even chased down a few of the books he recommended (he offers summary and personal commentary for each title).
Yup. Dirda Lists over Bloom Lists any day. That and the understanding that I'll accept no list as tyrant (the old "Life is too short too suffer" bit, you know?).
I'm really enjoying all the angles coming out from posters here and would love to see some thoughts on recent short story writers and poets worthy of possible canonization. I'm sure William Trevor and Raymond Carver might come up, for instance, among the story writers. As for poets, I'd need to check what year what was written. Pass the condiments -- I'm still playing "ketchup" when it comes to poetry.

I love Raymond Carver and think he definitely belongs in the "canon". He's already widely taught, as he should be. I think his stories come pretty close to perfection.

You're right, he is certainly not everyone's cup of tea ... but (unfortunately for you, Steve) he's here to stay and his lists and critical theory will stay around for a very long time. You can hate him as much as you want, but nothing's going to change that.
And he's not necessarily for everyone. He's an academic, and much of what he writes is for academia. Small target audience.

When I think about what books will be well known in 100 years, these are some that come to mind:
- To Kill a Mockingbird
- Dune
- At least one Kazuo Ishiguro book, not sure which
- At least one Cormac McCarthy book, not sure which
One common trait of my list is that these books take place in a specific time period that is not even contemporary with when they were written. You could perhaps make an argument that "eternal" books tend to avoid temporal specifics, but I think readers like to have clear ideas of the setting and the context of how characters are living in that era. In 100 years from now, To Kill a Mockingbird will still establish its early 20th century world and tell a gripping story within that world. Same with Dune and its epic tale set 10,000 years in the future.

Steve, it was your turn to make me laugh.
I confess I never read Harold Bloom, so I approached his list unbiased. But I will take your word as a warning. While remembering that he comes recomended by both Erin and our common friend Candy.
Now, if your bold letters (#81) were intended for me, I too agree with you that “People may still read Stephen King 100 years from now, but his books are not classics.” I keep pounding on the idea that popularity plays a part in including certain books among “the classics” merely for argumentation. I will drop it if it is making you angry ;)
Newengland, I also agree with you here:
You see, in some cases reading a classic can be like swimming an Olympic-sized pool underwater. You need to come up for air. Often, after reading a classic, I need to switch gears and do some literary slumming. Read a YA book. Read some quick poems and short stories.

One common trait of my list is that these books take place in a specific time period that is not even contemporary with when they were written. You could perhaps make an argument that "eternal" books tend to avoid temporal specifics, but I think readers like to have clear ideas of the setting and the context of how characters are living in that era. In 100 years from now, To Kill a Mockingbird will still establish its early 20th century world and tell a gripping story within that world. Same with Dune and its epic tale set 10,000 years in the future.

I very much like this idea, Steve. I feel honoured indeed. But I have to go now. My 11 year-old-son is playing volleyball in another hour. The “classics” discussion will have to wait for this vastly more important event.

One common trait of my list is that these books take place in a specific time period that is not even con..."
I tend to see classics the same way. To me they represent either the social structure or culture of a specific era. I think a fine example is The Kiterunner and Queen Of The South. Both books are prim examples of social and cultural issues across the world.

I was listening to Professor Greenberg (he of the Great Lectures series) this evening and he gave me a salutary reality check. In his lecture on Beethoven, he mentioned that Beethoven's late works were considered vulgar by his contemporaries. Yep. You read that right. Vulgar. It reminded me that many of those we consider great and canonical were not only neglected (like Melville) but sometimes derided and looked down upon by their contemporaries. Dickens was regarded as vulgar for dealing with topics not fit for gentle minds, and his novels were considered sensationalist. Joyce and Lawrence were considered obscene. [Edit:] I rather suspect that there are those in that era who would have had conniptions at the suggestion that they should be considered canonical.
Posterity is an odd thing. Neither I nor anyone else in this discussion will be around to decide what is a classic and what is not 200 years from now. Lists of classics are invariably revised from decade to decade. 200 years from now, the reading elite might agree with our assessments, or consider them quaint. To paraphrase a line from a film that I consider a classic (but 200 years from now, who knows?), what we might feel and think ain't gonna 'mount to a hill'a beans.
Edit: Plus wasn't the original question what books we thought might have a shot at becoming "classics" (inverted commas in the original) and what reasons we might put forth to wager the books might become part of "the canon" in the 21st century? We might feel that a certain title might not, in our view, deserve to be included in the canon (or list), but looking at how books that are now on made it, it is at least surely worthwhile speculating that a similar process might elevate a present day title we don't think much of.

That's one of the reasons I chose Toni Morrison's Beloved. Not only is it beautifully written, but it tells of a changing American, one in which the freed slaves were trying to adapt to that freedom, yet having a difficult time because being a slave was all they'd known until that time. It's about the freedoms they won and the sacrifices they made.

Quite obviously, what we might feel and think ain't gonna 'mount to a hill'a bean..."
I agree. What we think and what we talk about isn't going to matter. But right now, I don't care. LOL
Can I suggest Billy Collins, Seamus Heaney, Adrienne Rich and Mary Oliver for starters in the call put out for 'Canonize Contemporary Poets'


I can see some of his books as being iconic,but I don't know if they would be endearing 100 years from now. I wonder how it is decided , which books are classic.

Some that I have read, I definitely agree, but there are others that I question.
There seem to be great divergencies in 'Lists of Classics' also.


LOL

I am unsure of whatever else was happening there, but, if you DO subscribe to those religious beliefs, may I be first in line to start your conversion???
;)


Is that how they decide which books are classics.
what about Queen Of The South.

Ahhhh, Steve, we obviously get our kicks from different things.

I haven't read, nor even heard of Queen of the South, so I can't comment on it.

I haven't read, nor even heard of Queen of the South, so I can't comment on it."
The Gods that be that decide what will be deemed a classic. Queen of The South is by Arturo Perez-Reverte. It is an interesting book. It takes place in Mexico and Spain over a period of about 30 years if I recall correctly.

Now that opens a whole separate can of worms. Yes, good writing is probably integral. But as to what is good writing enough ink has been spilt to inundate us in a new Deluge. And how does one decide whether writing is great, good, or simply well-done. Especially when you are comparing across centuries and innovations in technique? Whether it moves you? In that case, I'd call Don Quixote crap and Harry Potter genius.
Here's a random selection of passages taken from a random sampling of traditionally accepted greats and lesser greats. I certainly wouldn't mortgage my house on a bet to determine which will be regarded as great 200 years from now. Or which, in a straw poll of random educated men and women, would fall into great, good and merely good enough:
1. At first an instinct had told Syme that this was the man whom he was meant to meet. Then, seeing that the man made no sign, he had concluded that he was not. And now again he had come back to a certainty that the man had something to do with his mad adventure. For the man remained more still than would have been natural if a stranger had come so close. He was as motionless as a wax-work, and got on the nerves somewhat in the same way.
2. As both these learned men concurred in censuring Jones, so were they no less unanimous in applauding Master Blifil. To bring truth to light, was by the parson asserted to be the duty of every religious man; and by the philosopher this was declared to be highly conformable with the rule of right, and the eternal and unalterable fitness of things.
3. The sanative effect of the strong vibration was exhausted, and with the last words the poor man fell again, rigid and insensible. Though this was only a recurrence of what had happened before, it struck all present as if it had been death, not only from its contrast with the completeness of the revival, but because his words had all had reference to the possibility that his death was near. But with poor Tulliver death was not to be a leap; it was to be a long descent under thickening shadows.
4. A maid servant living alone in a house not far from the river, had gone up-stairs to bed about eleven. Although a fog rolled over the city in the small hours, the early part of the night was cloudless, and the lane, which the maid’s window overlooked, was brilliantly lit by the full moon. It seems she was romantically given, for she sat down upon her box, which stood immediately under the window, and fell into a dream of musing. Never (she used to say, with streaming tears, when she narrated that experience), never had she felt more at peace with all men or thought more kindly of the world.
5. The ball, rocketing off the crotch of the rim, leaps over the heads of the six and lands at the feet of the one. He catches it on the short bounce with a quickness that startles them. As they stare hushed he sights squinting through blue clouds of weed smoke a suddenly dark silhouette like a smokestack against the afternoon spring sky, setting his feet with care, wiggling the ball with nervousness in front of his chest, one widespread white hand on top of the ball and the other underneath, jiggling it patiently to get some adjustment in air itself.
6. I have said there was not cover in the whole place to hide a rat. As the day advanced it was flooded with soft fresh light till it had the fragrant sunniness of the South African veld. At other times I would have liked the place, but now it seemed to suffocate me. The free moorlands were prison walls, and the keen hill air was the breath of a dungeon.
7. The dawns were heralded by the descent of a chill stillness; the woodcutters slept, their fires burned low; the snapping of a twig would make you start. We were wanderers on a prehistoric earth, on an earth that wore the aspect of an unknown planet. We could have fancied ourselves the first of men taking possession of an accursed inheritance, to be subdued at the cost of profound anguish and of excessive toil. But suddenly, as we struggled round a bend, there would be a glimpse of rush walls, of peaked grass-roofs, a burst of yells, a whirl of black limbs, a mass of hands clapping, of feet stamping, of bodies swaying, of eyes rolling, under the droop of heavy and motionless foliage.
8. In olden times an eagle swooped down upon the New England coast and carried off an infant Indian in his talons. With loud lament the parents saw their child borne out of sight over the wide waters. They resolved to follow in the same direction. Setting out in their canoes, after a perilous passage they discovered the island, and there they found an empty ivory casket,— the poor little Indian's skeleton.
9. As soon as ten o'clock mass was over people began to call by. Father Flood had filled one of the tables with glasses and bottles of lemonade and sweets for the children. He made everyone who came in, including women with fresh hairdos, put on a paper hat. Thus as the men began to arrive to spend all of Christmas Day in the hall they were barely noticed among the crowd. It was only later, after midday, when the visitors began to disperse, that they could be seen clearly, some of them sitting alone with a bottle of stout in front of them, others huddled in groups, many of them stubbornly still wearing cloth caps instead of paper hats.
10. He was a successful man, with a large consulting practice and a knighthood in prospect. From commerce with students and poor people he had the patronising air, and from dealing always with the sick he had the healthy man's jovial condescension, which some consultants achieve as the professional manner. He made the patient feel like a boy confronted by a jolly schoolmaster; his illness was an absurd piece of naughtiness which amused rather than irritated.

I agree that (many of) Margaret Atwood's books are incredible. Handmaid's Tale, Oryx and Crake, and Year of the Flood. But Blind Assasin--I didn't know what I'd read when I finished it.
I love everything I've ever read by Faulkner, but not by Walker Percy.
I do, though, notice that Toni Morrison has not been mentioned. I am not a fan of Beloved--I thought Song of Solomon was masterful. And A Mercy was fabulous.

A cigarette rhymes its glow with my own across the huge expanse that has shattered its crystal lining to the ground.
Please tell me, did I miss something here? Obviously I did, as this book is included in the Canon prepared – according to Steve – by a literary snob. However, this sentence bothered me so much I could not keep on reading the said book. Yet, I have come across brilliant sentences from authors that will never make the classic list. So, I have to conclude that good writing in itself does not a classic make, and that poor writing may be forgiven in certain circumstances.
Nothing seems to be black and white when defining the nature of “classics”, isn’t it?
Edited to clarify: at least my perception of what is “good writing” does not a classic make.
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Put that way, Whitaker, Lake Wobegon Days' chances don't look nearly as good as Stephen King's chances. LOL
You're right, popularity is quite fickle. I do think lovers of the horror genre will be reading Stephen King for many, many years to come. Probably Dean Kootz as well.
Maybe I'm a little confused about whether we're talking about popularity or an enduring classic. I think books can be classic without being outrageously popular. I think Flaubert's Sentimental Education is a classic and I don't think it's terribly popular, though of course, I could be wrong.
But you are right, a book has no chance of being a classic unless it's read. I was thinking more along the lines of books that will be taught in university literature programs rather in terms of popularity among readers.