Literary vs Genre, Seriously?
A few years back, fellow speculative fiction author Daniel Abraham posted a very witty and amusing ‘Private Letter From Genre To Literature’ (aka “literary fiction”) on SF Signal. (It’s still worth a read if you havena done so already.)
Like everyone else at the time I chuckled quite a bit as I read it—except that even way back then, in the midst of the vasty wilds of 2011, I couldn’t help thinking that even penning such a letter implied a certain cultural cringe from genre to literature. As if, even in jest, the implication is that a genre such as SFF somehow requires the approval of so-called “literary fiction.”
The thing is, you see, to me “literary fiction” is just another genre with its own distinctive tropes, such as—to indulge in broad generalizations, which is what we do when we descend to categories and categorization—narrow plot scope or no plot at all; open, opaque, or ‘none-ending’ endings; an intensive-to-introverted focus on often unsympathetic characters; and the inclusion of gratuitous physical (usually sexual or urination/defecation related) detail as a shorthand for “realism.”
So from my point of view, given “SFF” (for example, although I could equally well discuss “crime” or other styles of literature) and “literary” are both genres with (broad-brush though not exclusive) distinctions of approach, subject matter and style, it seems pointless for one (or practitioners therein) to angst over the notice—or otherwise—of the other. To be honest, I think readers are smart enough to know good storytelling and good writing when they encounter it, regardless of labels and vested interests touting one style of literature or another as “superior.”
But I think we only see the truly ridiculous nature of the genre vs literary debate if we take “all sorts and conditions” of storytelling and extend the analogy out to the world of those who (potentially might) read the books/stories. That world comprises all “sorts and conditions” of people: not just diverse nations, cultures, religions and ethnicities, but also fat people, thin people; tall people, short people; the fit and the unfit; the hirsute and the bald; the left-handed, the right-handed and the ambidextrous; the fair, the dark and the red-headed; as well as differences of sex and sexual preference… I think (hope!) we know the dangers inherent in trying to pick one element, or combination of elements, in all of this infinite human variety and say: “this is the exemplar, everything else the also-rans.”
Because that would be nonsense, right, we all know it. So why on earth do we keep perpetuating exactly that sort of differentiation with books and the “genre vs literary” circumnavigation of the writing mulberry bush—it sure beats me!
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This is excellent. Thank you
Thanks, Melinda. I was worried it might read as a little Monday morning curmudgeon-itis, but it’s a line of thought I’ve been mulling for a while.
Read as a very rational argument to me. Although I am already a convert to this line of thinking 🙂
Good for you.:)
Great post – I definitely agree!
The whole oppositional relationship between the two is kinda sad and tedious I reckon.
“Sad and tedious”—I couldn’t have put it better myself, which may be why it took me three years to put my response into print.
Thanks! 😀
I think, even with my agitation, the ‘sad’ bit sticks out most because I often wonder how much more reading would be done without the opposition, if that makes sense?
It does: I would call it ‘dissipated energy.’
Thanks for the link. A most thought-provoking article.
I only read what I like, and avoid what I don’t like, but sometimes you need to read a good cross-section to work out what works for you personally.
Thank you, June: I am glad if I gave you the gift of pondering. 😉