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A Window Across the River - Discussion
I want to know what was the draw for this book. The few pages I read just didn't do it for me. I wanted to give Morton another try. So I will read everyone's comments and maybe I will get through it eventually.
Yulia wrote: "A Window Across the River is the third book Brian Morton has published under his name, his other novels being The Dylanist, Starting Out in the Evening, and Breakable You. The American-born Brian ..."Yulia, are you able to contact Morton to see if it is okay to share his conversation with us? I would love to hear what he had to say.
Other than the ending, I loved this book. From the comments elsewhere, it sounds like I am in the minority. But, I felt like I got a little peek inside the mind of a writer and it felt consistent with my impressions of the few writers I've known. I also felt like it was an honest look at some facets of relationships. But, I really felt let down by the ending.
Unless libel is involved or a confidentiality contract signed, it should simply be a matter of what each individual believes appropriate. Trust is a huge factor in most exchanges, whether in person or online. Unfortunately, individual comfort levels or "settings," as they are online, can too easily conflict. We could leave it up to common sense, but that's debatable in its own right. Really, it's up to anyone present to decide what they believe is appropriate to share or discuss. I think that gets at the heart of the dilemma faced by Nora (and those who have to decide whether to accept her) in this book. I'll bring up what was mentioned as it comes back to me, though anyone else should feel free to add their stories, but one thing we learned is that Morton had also published a detective novel under the name Raymond Miller, a pseudonym inspired by a Baltimore Orioles pitcher whose approach to baseball, when applied to writing, appealed to Morton as a more enjoyable alternative to his usual methodical writing style. The goal being: Quick strikes, get 'em out fast (or at least faster than the books under his given name). Unfortunately, the publisher under which it was printed went under, and he had a hard time selling a sequel to a novel that had gone out of print and hadn't been a best seller. But no, he has no plans to write a literary detective novel.
What didn't you like about the end, Barb? At the dinner, we were discussing Murakami's Wind-Up Bird Chronicle, which he said he really enjoyed until the end, which he found frustrating due to its lack of clear resolution and I asked him if that wasn't also the case for Window Across the River. He said he didn't see it as unambiguous, though he does leave it up to the reader to infer what choice Nora and Isaac will ultimately make.
I read Window several months ago. Can hardly remember a thing about it, it was that unmemorable. So when it came up here, I checked it out of the library again, thinking I'd give it a reread. When I started, I realized that this was not how I wanted to spend several hours out of my life. It's going right back to the library.Funny, I liked Starting out in the Evening a lot.
Maybe I should read Starting Out In the Evening?
I thought A Window Across the River was worth the read really. It starts out with a bit of over-dramatized pretense regarding Nora's recollection of Isaac's sleep-breathing but I think it improves rapidly and settles down into a realistic portrayal of our fondness for pleasant memories past, and the ease with which we bury more unpleasant truths when comparing the apples and oranges of lovers present and past. Not to be confused with Herman Cain's "apples and oranges" I have no idea what in the hell that man is talking about.
Hey, Frank! Good to see you here. I'm glad you decided to join in the virtual discussion after our in-person discussions over the weekend!
I'll second Barbara's frustration that it's frustrating to see references to a conversation - that we're not to actually learn about.As for this book, I didn't it particularly "memorable", though it was well written. As far as being honest vs. others' feelings, I didn't get the impression that Nora really cared about the latter particularly; whenever she was shown as "caring" that seemed forced to me. I found the read worth it for Isaac and the secondary characters, although the bicycle accident near the end seemed overdone. Had he been that smashed up, would he really have wanted to chair a panel? In the end, I was hoping for him to give in and let the story submission go.
Yulia, I don't think Morton would mind if you posted about the conversation he had with us. After all, he knows we're an online group and that we invited him to dinner to find out more about him. I liked the book, especially Nora's dilemma which seemed very real and possible. My favorite scene was Isaac and Renee note-passing under the bathroom door.
I’ll also echo how nice to see Frank here online!I loved the food at the dinner with Brian Morton but unfortunately it was so loud I often had trouble hearing what was being said. I’d love to find out what I missed.
I have to be honest and say initially I didn’t care for the book because I’m too much of a sentimental romantic looking for happy endings. Yet, as time goes on and considering comments by others I may have changed my mind somewhat. Isn’t that the beauty of these discussions; we get to evaluate things from different points of view?
I think part of my negative reaction was there were elements of Nora and even of Isaac that I just didn’t like as characters. I saw them as self-absorbed people who tried to convince themselves of wanting to be better yet not really making any progress. I liked Nora best when she connected with her Aunt only to have her revert back to the old ways after her passing to use her as material for her writing.
Yet, there was an honesty in the portrayal of this outwardly self confident writer and photographer couple who inwardly were each filled with self doubts and recriminations. Their past successes only seem to fuel an empty feeling they’d not accomplished what they’d thought or hoped they could. I think most artists, whatever their medium, always seek the elusive brass ring of perfection only to find it is just out of reach.
John, I think you missed my point (or I made my point poorly) about privacy in the beginning. It's not that I intended to keep from anyone what was discussed, but that I thought the issue itself raised interesting questions that parallel what Nora experiences on a larger scale as a writer. Nowadays, one needn't be an author with a chance of being published in the Atlantic or New Yorker to have the opportunity to publicize one's [portrayal of those one knows or has met. It's enough simply to know how to use the internet, post a blog, put up a video on YouTube, comment on Twiiter or write an update feed on Facebook. Each time we write or share something, we're confronted with the question of discretion and privacy and the potential to hurt others. As for the conversation we did have, I didn't record it on audio or video, so I can give details or impressions only as they occur to me and I have the energy. But I didn't intend to begin the discussion with a mock transcript of what we spoke of. As it is, little referred to the book itself. There's so much to mention about the book and recurring themes in his works (I had 9 pages of notes after rereading his four books), I intended just to refer to what we learned from him as it was relevant.
But as for the notes I'd taken, I tried to skim them before the meal and he immediately asked if he could read them. I handed them over before wondering (and Frank's asking) if I'd written anything I might regret in them. As it was, I didn't. He was actually very touched that I'd taken his work seriously, given it such thought, and seen themes in what he'd written when he himself worried he hadn't written enough to say much. Leonard Schiller quotes Henry James in Starting Out in the Evening, that to “[. . .] woo combinations into being by a depth and continuity of attention and meditation—this is the only thing.” I felt, despite this being the novel I was least impressed with, Morton's work as a whole did accomplish this "depth and continuity of attention" about several subjects: the artist's struggle between living with integrity and seeking recognition and critical success, the struggle to understand how to live well and die well, the constant ambivalence of those in relationships, of those in different generations towards each other, of artists between themselves, of teacher and pupil, and so on. I saw no connection to D.H. Lawrence, as Heather Wolfe did with Schiller.
Janet, I think that's what we're led to believe Isaac does do: forgive Nora, at least after this particular hurt. I thought he saw by the end what a flawed individual he himself was, who was he to judge Nora so harshly? So it was a happy ending yet also indirectly a realistic one as we aren't given promises that things will work out beyond his giving Nora another chance. As i imagine it, I think Nora and Isaac will continue to gravitate back to each other due to their feelings for each other and intellectual kinship. But I also think Nora will continue to hurt him with what she writes about characters he sees himself in (rightly or wrongly) and Isaac will continue to rush to judgment of others and be hurt unnecessarily by believing he's been slighted. Happiness? An ongoing struggle between two individuals, more like it, but often that's what relationships can be. I think their flaws as individuals made Isaac and Nora very believable, actually. They don't necessarily do what they ought to and they aren't always strong, but they do what they believe they need to at the time and Morton as their creator doesn't judge them for their choices. In one of his books, he quotes Berrryman as saying it's possible never to know whether one is a hero or a coward. That's very true for Morton's characters: we never know if they're making thee weak or the strong choice, whether in being true to their artistic voice or following their heart over their misgivings. They're real in that they don't obviously fit into either hero or coward mold.
At another point, Morton refers to Sidney Hooke, who said that the difficult decisions in life often involve a choice between right versus right. I think that applies to Nora's and Isaac's main decisions in this book It's right for Nora to write the story as it was meant to be written, but it's also right for her to honor the privacy of what Isaac shared with her about his sister. Also, it was right of Isaac to be angry with Nora, but it was also right for him to listen to himself and be open to understanding her perspective.
The young photographer Renee takes photographs that expose what’s wrong and celebrate what’s right (at least that's how Isaac thinks of them). but it occurred to me while reading this that oftentimes matters arren't as clear as right and wrong.
This is the only one of Morton's books I've read and I have to admit I probably wouldn't have finished it were it not for this discussion. While I can see and understand the discussion above re Nora and Isaac as artists and being true to themselves etc, I had a very difficult time actually seeing Nora as a living, breathing person. Her conflicts just seemed staged for herself, a show to justify what would happen next. Isaac did seem more human to me. I'm not a writer; I don't know if that makes a difference in how I look on these characters (especially Nora) or not.
Sue wrote: "Her conflicts just seemed staged for herself, a show to justify what would happen next."Do you mean you didn't believe she was actually torn about what to do when writing about those she cared about? Or that her basic character seemed flat and too theoretical to imagine as someone you might come across in everyday life?
During the meal, others noted how they didn't like Nora at all, thought her extremely reprehensible in fact, but it was odd because I could relate to her struggles so well. I'm not a true writer, at least not by my own standards of what good writing is, but I do confront each day the question of what I can and can' share on my blog. My own tendency is to reveal everything about myself, but sometimes being honest about what I'm going through involves writing about someone I know, someone who I know is reading the blog. For instance, what if I feel a need to consider the true meaning of the problems in a friendship, or reflect on how I my or may not have misread what was said or done to me by someone. In this case, it has nothing to do with being indifferent to this person's feelings but being true to my own experiences. Always, I censor myself but it feels terrible to do so. I feel like I'm lying to myself or not living up to my own goal to be open. That's how I was able to relate to Nora's conflict, her need for integrity but also her natural urge to protect others.
I asked him when he planned to introduce his books to his children (a 10- and 8-year-old) and he said he'd prefer that his children never read his books because he wants to keep who he is as their parent separate from who he is as a writer. This surprised me, as two characters in separate books are questioned for not reading their father's work (Leonard's and Izzy's daughters), so it didn't occur to me he'd be relieved his own children would be indifferent to his own life's work. He asked what I didn't like about his books and I shot out, "Jumping off the yacht!" I said no one in their right mind would do such a thing and risk smashing their chin or skull against the dock. Thee scene yelled out to me that Morton had "jumped the shark," as it were. "One word," I told him, "Fonzie." That may very well be what I was saying when Sherry took that photo of me looking as if I were instructing Morton.
Jane, though, said she could relate to Nora's need to escape and wouldn't say she wouldn't have done the same thing in her situation. gale said you could never say you'd never do something, that we were all capable of doing things we think outrageous, but I said I hadn't jumped in fifteen years,, quite literally. jane then offered to hold my hand as she jumped off the yacht. So, maybe it is possible, but I'm not quite motivated to immerse myself in Hudson water.
Morton noted that he'd originaally had Renee escape out a window when Isaac is in her apartment, but his editor suggested it was too much like the yacht scene, so he made her just hide in the bathroom (a great change in my mind). But I think the intrepid Renee's crawling out a window happens to be much more believable than the unathletic Nora's jumping off a yacht.
He added that the yacht scene came to life in his imagination when he was watching a movie with some friends and he thought the movie terrible and wished more than anything that he could escape the theater before having to discuss it with the others. I'm not sure why he didn't feel comfortable enough to be honest about his disliking the film, though, unless one of them had some part in making it.
(More later)
Much as I had my issues with Nora, I did buy that the Isaac story came to her so urgently that she couldn't not write it; there was no question of self-censorship once she began it. I had forgotten about the yacht scene, which I liked.
Yulia wrote: "Sue wrote: "Her conflicts just seemed staged for herself, a show to justify what would happen next."Do you mean you didn't believe she was actually torn about what to do when writing about those ..."
Yulia, I guess I mean a bit of both. I found Nora flat and a bit unreal, almost a talking point. As a character, I didn't really believe in the soul-searching struggle she was supposed to be having within herself. I didn't really think she'd stop writing those stories no matter what happened. She had to write them.
Maybe that makes her a personification of some writing ... I can't say ideal. I don't know what. But she just doesn't seem like a real person. She spends every second of her life in judgment. She's the Woody Allen of writing.
I don't mind unresolved endings. They feel more like real life than the ones that tidily tie up each string. But, this ending felt like I stopped right in the middle, as if there should be a few more pages. I've already taken the book back to the library so I can't refresh my memory but I did feel really disappointed by it.One of the strong points of the book, for me, was Morton's look into the creative mind, particularly that of a writer. I've known writers who will suddenly get a very intense look of concentration while observing or listening and you know that they are mentally saving something that is a possiblity for a future book. Nora absolutely had that quality and, if she ignored it, she wouldn't be a writer. That felt like the ultimate dilemma in the book.
Yulia, I believed the jumping off the yacht scene. It was the kind of ultimate step that made going back impossible. I did that kind of thing when I was very young -- my only question was whether Nora was too old for it.
While reading the book on the airplane to New York last week, I was most interested in Nora's self-questioning as a writer who (at first) unwittingly hurt people she knew when they became her chief characters. Yulia's comments in this thread (esp. #16) have deepened my appreciation of that moral dilemma.I thought that Isaac's developing self-deception about Renee's feelings for him, encouraged perhaps by his feelings of professional inadequacy, leading to that sad/comic assault of drunken kissing, was well written. The whole thing was poignant, funny, rather horrifying for a middle-aged male reader.
As I told Brian Morton at our Rosa Mexicano meeting, my favorite scene in the whole book was when Renee passed torn-out pages from Jameson's The Cultural Turn with her pleas for him to leave, and Isaac imagined carrying on a conversation with her on slips of paper passed beneath the door. (edit:) I see that was Sherry's favorite scene too!
I asked Morton if he ever found himself with a Nora sort of problem, i.e. writing something not so flattering about someone he knows. He said that his characters may start out with the germ of someone he knows, but then grows and shifts into something or someone else entirely.I also told him that I understood Isaac's feeling of being surpassed by his mentee, when Renee gets her photography published easily where he has been struggling for his career. Again, I kind of expected that this was something cut from Morton's own life, but he said that he liked it when his students did something that showed their own special gifts, and wasn't bothered by that at all.
Being able to write very believable behaviors and characteristics feels like a special talent, to me.
Map wroteBeing able to write very believable behaviors and characteristics feels like a special talent, to me. I think that is so true. He does write about character's you love to hate.
I didn't hate Isaac at all, and even Nora I was ambivalent about.
Sue wrote: "She spends every second of her life in judgment."True, her stories may come off as judgmental, but isn't Nora in her everyday life not as judgmental as Isaac is? She cares for Billie and Isaac when they need her and is appalled by her ex's callous and self-centered behavior. Even Isaac, who had the most reason to be hurt by her latest story, sees that she shows compassion and empathy in her depiction of him. And what happens in the story isn't even a retelling of what happened to Isaac: she makes up what she believes could have happened. It's pure coincidence if it struck a chord, however painful with him. In the same way, she hadn't looked through her friend Sally Burke's diaries, so it was just terrible luck in a way that she wrote of Sally's having an ex named Jesse whom she may have still harbored feelings for and this being true. Whatever Isaac saw of himself in the story (about his failure to follow through or his disappointing those he cares for) may have had more to do with his reading himself into the story than Nora's knowing all his psychological weaknesses and attacking them. The truth is, she didn't seemperceptive enough a character to have such insight into others' great weaknesses. It's much easier for vulnerable individuals to see their great flaws revealed in characters just superficially like them.
I wonder if that's why Morton doesn't wish his children to read his books, because it's so easy to read yourself into a character, even if it was created before you existed and wasn't based on you. For instance, he has a couple central daughter characters in his novels and what if his daughter ever read these books and saw anything of herself in Ariel or Maud? Would she think, he always knew I'd struggle with depression? He thinks I'm dependent and immature? He thinks I'm flaky and not intellectual enough? Of course all these fears would be baseless as the characters were formed either before his daughter was born or when she was still very young, but I suppose I can see his fear that she'd ever imagine her father thought poorly of her because of the weaknesses in any of these characters, meanwhile their obvious strengths.
Isaac considers the "authority of the visible" when he debates how to react to Renee's getting three photos published by The New Yorker. Vic mentioned this during our dinner, how this passage struck him as especially powerful. So should we judge Nora by how she is in her day-to-day interactions with others or by the goblin that's given voice in her stories?
Maybe her stories are her way of dealing with her own inner conflict with her need for others in her life. The book mentions sevral times how a female writer must be single to be able to devote herself to her art and Nora probably resents this to no end, being condemned to isolation when male writers aren't. Perhaps she lashes out at those who take her time from her writing by imagining mean things about them? Or she hurts in her stories the very individuals she’s angry with herself for caring for and tending to in reality?
The book references Rilke's saying, if you take away the devils, you take away the angels. Would Nora be a worse person in her everyday life if she couldn't rid herself of her darker thoughts in her stories? D.H. Lawrence is also noted to have said one sheds one's sicknesses in books. So maybe we can see her writing as purging in a way?
One thing that remained (at least somewhat) unresolved to me was Nora's relationship with Billie; I sensed a passive-agressive note in all her "concern" for her aunt. Also, did Juliette "get it" that there'd be no inheritance from her aunt, so she wanted to leave Nora something?
John wrote: "One thing that remained (at least somewhat) unresolved to me was Nora's relationship with Billie; I sensed a passive-agressive note in all her "concern" for her aunt. Also, did Juliette "get it" th..."How did you think her passive-aggressive towards Billie?
I assumed Juliette gave her the pearl as a way to thank her for her conversations, for breaking the isolation and sterility of the hospice, but I can see your point as well.
John, I thought Nora had genuine care and concern for her aunt Billie; it's just that as an intensely self-reflective person she gives inner voice to her complicated and mixed emotions. Many people (myself included, anyway) have complex reactions to life circumstances. I suspect that to outsiders (including Juliette) Nora seemed appropriately caring.
Yulia --I agree it was some of both with Juliette.
As for Billie, perhaps I put too much weight on the flashback to the funeral home when her mother died, where Billie made her do all the work? Or maybe I'm projecting my own dislike of Billie as a character?
John wrote, "Or maybe I'm projecting my own dislike of Billie as a character?"I found Billie a frustrating individual as well, always waiting for someone to save her. In the dinner, MAP noted how she actually liked Billie but then she didn't have to look after her and Morton said MAP could look after his mother :)
On a bit of a tangent, from likeability to believability, at the dinner, Janet said something I thought very interesting, that readers may regard a character as more or less believable depending on whether they'd make the same choices the character did. If I look back at my own reactions to characters, I think that'd prove to be true. And perhaps one reason I didn't see Nora as two-dimensional a character as others did was that I related to her conflicts and merely filled in aspects of her from my own experience that weren't in the book. I can't say, as I have no way of removing my perspective from the book, but it does make me wonder.
Regarding what Morton said in the dinner about his characters not resembling people he knew, it's probably just safer as an author to say that, so readers don't ask, Are you more like Nora or Isaac? Are you like Leonard or like Levin (from Starting Out int he Evening)? Who was Maud (from Breakable You) inspired by?
That said, he did seem to suggest the character Adam Weller from Breakable You was inspired by a real-life literary figure. I'm wondering who. Philip Roth? He also noted that the character Heather Wolfe, who makes a cameo in this book as an ambitious editor who'd worked for Tina Brown on Talk magazine and was starting another magazine that Nora's ex wanted to work for, he originally envisioned as a female version of his self-confident self in high school, someone who went after what she wanted with fearlessness. But he said that didn't seem to work, perhaps because he knew how he developed in his own life, so he ended up beginning with conceiving Heather as a girl he'd once dated. But after he'd started the book, Heather took on a life of her life and became her own self, which is what I so admire about his characters, that they do seem to act autonomously.
This conversation is interesting. All about perception, isn't it. I don't think I could ever like Nora, but I do see how others can find her more sympathetic. Perhaps this has to do with life experience of the observer too, not just the character. We all bring ourselves to the reading experience, not a blank slate. For all I know, Nora may remind me of someone.I still feel that she wasn't honestly debating about writing her story about Isaac, anymore than she debated writing about Billie or anyone else. It seemed to me a battle at self justification with the end always known, the rationale the only point undecided.
That pretty much sums it up for me, too, Sue. I wanted to stress that I found Nora believable, just not particularly easy to like (care about). Smashing himself up near the end laid it on a bit thick with Isaac's sad-sack-ness, but I was, literally, rooting for him when he decided to chair the "inferior" panel in D. C.
I'm thinking that perhaps what I now label as Nora's dishonesty with herself may be what led me to label her as two dimensional. As for Isaac, I did find him more believable and I agree wholeheartedly with your assessment of the scene at Renee's apartment, John.
In message 31, Sue wrote: "I still feel that she wasn't honestly debating about writing her story about Isaac, anymore than she debated writing about Billie or anyone else. It seemed to me a battle at self justification with the end always known, the rationale the only point undecided."Perhaps she didn't question whether she'd write about Isaac as by that point she was fed up with not finishing her stories in order to save relationships, but I do think she felt guilty about what the story would reveal about her subconscious thoughts about Isaac and, if he ever saw the story, how Isaac would react to this. She may not have wanted to put aside her work for Isaac, but I never had the feeling she wanted him.
As for her potentially lying to herself, though, many characters do this; it's almost assumed they're unreliable when we see things from their perspective. I'm not sure that in itself makes for a flat character. If you had the sense, however, the author isn't sufficiently aware of a character's lack of self-awareness, then that could be used as a case that a character's portrayal is disappointing.
As for her dilemma being a "battle at self justification with the end always known," I'd say that's how many of us debate within ourselves. We know what outcome we want but we struggle for an adequate rationale so we feel more comfortable with our choice. rarely do individuals actually have the ability to set aside their personal wishes to consider the pros and cons of an issue and decide that way, and even if they did as Benjamin Franklin suggests, our unspoken preferences for one outcome over another will always make it much easier to find the benefits of one choice and the risks of another. So again, I don't think her being partial to a certain outcome as she debates how she can continue to write while having a relationship are necessarily a sign of a bad character.
Morton writes in Window Across the River, “You spend a lot of time worrying about what choice you’re going to make, until one day you take a look at your life and realize you’ve already chosen.”
Yulia postedMorton writes in Window Across the River, “You spend a lot of time worrying about what choice you’re going to make, until one day you take a look at your life and realize you’ve already chosen.” That was a good piece of writing and it does happen just that way.
Somewhat related to "life is what happens while you're busy making other plans", only Morton's is less passive. One's actions have led to the result and have likely supported the choice one wanted. In my quote, life is more arbitrary and acts separately from the characters. The outcome may or may not align with one's choice.I think life works both ways on us all, sometimes under our control(remotely or otherwise) and sometimes beyond our control, dealing us hands that are good, bad or indifferent but that will forever influence our lives no matter what choices we make. I guess Nora's "hand" could be her parents' death, her responsibility for Billie, her mixed blessing of her writing skill. Her choices as we see them are how to deal with Billie, and the men in her life, and how to deal with the results of her writing.
I'm glad I didn't know her.
In message 11, Janet wrote, "Yet, there was an honesty in the portrayal of this outwardly self confident writer and photographer couple who inwardly were each filled with self doubts and recriminations. Their past successes only seem to fuel an empty feeling they’d not accomplished what they’d thought or hoped they could. I think most artists, whatever their medium, always seek the elusive brass ring of perfection only to find it is just out of reach."I like that about his work, that it focuses on individuals not on their way up in life, but struggling to maintain their position or return to a previous state of more recognition. At one point, a character in this book (Isaac, I believe) notes that people want to hear stories only of rising stars with great potential, promising futures, and an unmarred line of successes ahead of them. But the more honest career arc for anyone seeking recognition from others and especially for artists is one of early promise, followed by decades of frustration, disappointment and struggle to recapture those early successes.
Okay, this is a rather bleak and discouraging picture of the artists' life, but it does point to how we all ought to make ourselves less dependent on external validation, which we can't control, and how it wasn't necessarily a cop-out for Isaac to actually find contentment and satisfaction in a day job at the newspaper as deputy photo editor. What he chose was peace of mind, security and health care coverage, not bad goals in themselves as they allow one to appreciate what one already has as opposed to what one seems unable to capture. I'm sure a portion of the population would see it as giving up, but not everyone has it in them for constant striving. It's one thing "to strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield" (Tennyson), but what if one's ambitions lead one to strive, to seek, to pine? When is it okay to stop pining for a goal one had in one's youth? One option is "Fail, fail better," but is it necessarily a sign of weakness to change course, as Isaac does? I appreciated how being true to themselves led Nora and Isaac in different directions regarding their careers.
Speaking of the photographer couple, I wanted to repeat that Morton has quite a knack for putting in interesting minor characters; I thought the editor, who was (it seems) using Isaac for his connection to the famous photographer, was quite well done also.On an O/T (ish) note, I've mentioned that The Fiction Class by Susan Breen bears a more-than-passing resemblance to this book. I wanted to mention that I found Morton's writing style similar to that of Stephen McCauley, who like Morton had a book made into a film with a "name" star: The Object of My Affection.
(I didn’t mean to totally drop out of this conversation. After returning from NYC I had to prepare for my daughter’s family of 5 visiting from Friday until just a few hours ago)A great deal has been said here regarding Nora’s writing about people she knows. As Jo in Little Women learned, an author writes best when they write what they know. I think it is near impossible not to incorporate some of your own experiences and elements of people you know into your writing and still have authenticity even within fiction. Even so, Nora’s choice to always write about people she supposedly cared for in unflattering ways made me dislike her. To a degree fictional characters take on a life of their own but in the end an author is at the helm. I found it difficult to believe the only way Nora could write well, as was indicated, was to write about the people closest to her in a negative light. A character can be a blend of people not so closely identified to a particular real life person. Having said that though, this was how Mr. Morton portrayed this character and not every character in a novel is going to be what every reader will like because as people we are all different- some likeable and some not and realistic fiction will contain the same.
As to Billie, I did like her despite her inability to deal with unpleasant truths in life such as the scene at the funeral home. (Perhaps she was a good counterpoint for Nora who sought out the negative in her writing.) To some degree Billie reminded me of people I’ve known who flit into a room as the center of attention leaving others to deal with details that need attention. For example: I was always bugged by the biblical story of Mary and Martha. One attended to the physical needs of those gathered while the other participated in the event without helping. I guess most people tend to be predominately more like one or the other and for a rich story, or life in general, we need both.
I've actually been meaning to read Breen's book. I agree re: the editor who appears to have been trying to use Isaac's connections--well done. Yulia, I also like your point that being true to themselves led Nora and Isaac in different directions. A lot to think about.
Nice summary Janet.
I got the feeling that it wasn't really a choice with Nora. She started writing, and it just turned into what it turned into. I think her subconscious probably took her in directions that her conscious mind would rather have avoided.
Janet wrote, "[N]ot every character in a novel is going to be what every reader will like because as people we are all different- some likeable and some not and realistic fiction will contain the same."That's a good point and it's also important to note that the part of Nora people didn't like, how she portrayed loved one in her writing, is only one side of her, the other being very attentive and considerate. And I do believe individuals can possess such contradictions.
I loved your description of those who are there just for the fun and leave for others (those who likely made the preparations in the first place) to clean up the wreck in their wake. I suppose every family has someone to take that role in some form. I just looked up the story of Mary and Martha and it is an odd, or at least very ambiguous, message.
Sherry wrote: "I got the feeling that it wasn't really a choice with Nora. She started writing, and it just turned into what it turned into. I think her subconscious probably took her in directions that her consc..."That is what Nora has convinced herself. If I were arguing with a real person I'd say to her pencils have erasers and computers have delete, backspace and cut and paste buttons. An author may feel subconsciously led but ultimately has the power to self edit.
Then again we come back to the idea of having a hard time believing something is plausible based on our own traits and experiences. Perhaps my difficulty accepting Nora’s biting style is because from time to time when needing to be confrontational in a situation I’ve been accused of being too nice. My lack of an internal pit bull may make it hard to accept another’s inability to keep theirs at bay.
As I consider things further I do see your point Yulia, about people having contradictory sides. You often hear about individuals being one way in a work environment and totally different in their home life.
Of course you realize though, if anyone finds fault in anything I've written, I'll claim the characters made me do it ;)
Oh, one more thing of interest. When I asked Brian Morton how long it generally took him to write a book he said typically it is five years. I remember not too long ago there was a discussion thread here at CR about writers having an obligation to their readers to produce work with in a certain time frame. I think Mr. Morton’s books taking so long is an indication of what I feel; sometimes inspiration comes at its own pace and can’t be driven by the demands of an eager audience.
I still have trouble seeing the attentive, considerate Nora, as she always seemed to be second guessing herself and those she was with. She was second guessing others' worth (i.e. Billie and Isaac). Yes people can be like this but it's not a life I find at all attractive even to read about. For me it wasn't only the struggle how to portray others in her writing that bothered me, but also how she was to deal with them or whether to allow them into her life. Human beings are a mass of contradictions definitely. I just don't believe that's my issue with Nora. (Who knows though, my words might be saying something different)
Sue,That was kind of my point regarding Nora - I saw her "taking care of" Billie was an obligation, more than that she truly cared. When she gave Isaac his shots, or ran out for his medicine, that seemed somehow self-congratulatory, rather than spontaneous. Regarding Isaac, I wonder whether she used the writing as an indirect way of criticizing him for not trying hard enough? Analyzing the motives of fictional characters is a tricky thing ...
True John. Next I'll be analyzing myself for not liking her.
John and Sue, I also appreciate the fullness of Morton's side characters. He doesn't just treat them as means to a plot device but as individuals in their own right. For instance, i was intrigued by the Judo teacher Nora observed when she was at the literary get-together at a restaurant with her ex. We don't know anything about him besides his appearance, but we're still inspired to be curious about this stranger. Morton also suggests that those he writes about may be side characters in one story but they remain main characters in their own right (and their own lives). Everyone has a story of his or her own; it's just a matter of our being curious or not. His books reinforce this by having characters from past books (Sally Burke, Juliette, Heather Wolfe, the Village Voice woman) make appearances or are mentioned by others in later books, showing that the people he's put a spotlight on before continue to live and matter, even if we don't know the details of their current circumstances.
It reminds me of how he said in the dinner that he writes page after page about his characters and only afterwards decides which scenes are worth keeping. It's as if the characters live with him, but we see only aspects of their lives in any given piece, which isn't to say that's all there is to them, just all that's necessary in this book.
My discussion with Brian Morton was very interesting: I read the section to him (p. 139 in the paperback) about male authors that goes like this. All of the successful male writers, she'd noticed, were carried through their lives by a sort of rapture of egotism. Most of them were married, or had been - most had burned quickly through several wives - and many of them had children, but she got the feeling that none of them had ever let anything come between them and their work. The women were different. Most of them seemed nicer than the men - more modest,more approachable - but less obsessed; Nora found it easy to believe that their devotion to writing had always had to compete with the many varieties of caretaking with which women fill their lives. Morton took the book out of my hand and reread what he had written and said that he had written that before he had children. It was almost as if he couldn't believe he had written it.Anyway, after reading the discussion here, I think that Nora is following this model of male writers who let nothing come between them and their writing. She doesn't want to marry or have children. She just wants to write. I liked her, but I was wondering if she was one of those people who likes to find the weaknesses in others because it makes her feel superior.
Then there is the story about Rilke that Nora's therapist mentions. Like most artists - like most people, I suppose - he was a tortured soul, and he thought psychoanalysis might help him. He was in treatment for a while, but he finally broke it off: he said that he feared that if the treatment took away his devils, it would take away his angels, too.
John wrote: "Where else does Juliette appear?"In his first book, The Dylanist. Sally Burke comes across her in a nursing home.
Constant Reader
Books mentioned in this topic
Nothing to Be Frightened Of (other topics)The Portrait of a Lady (other topics)
The Age of Innocence (other topics)
Starting Out in the Evening (other topics)
Starting Out in the Evening (other topics)
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He's also contributed regularly to and served as executive editor for Dissent, a a quarterly magazine focusing on politics and culture, which began by giving voice to democratic socialist ideas but now offers a wider range of political and social views.
All that can be found online. Hm, I'm wondering how much to share from what was said during our convention dinner, not because there were private matters or secrets of any sort shared, but we also didn't necessarily state that anything he said can and will be published online for anyone to read. As it is, I'm not sure whether it's ever clearly understood that a conversation not in a court of law or before the police after they've told you your Miranda rights is open for others to share in a public forum like Goodreads.
I didn't even intend to begin the discussion this way, but see my own approach to being open (in certain, though not every, forum) isn't what others necessarily live by. Most wisely have their boundaries. With everything now available on the internet, this issue of privacy comes up not just for writers published in national magazines but for bloggers and for those who share information on Facebook with not only their friends but the friends of their friends. Nora says at one point in this novel, to write a book worth reading, you can't be nice. Is that true?