It’s Friday — But First, More from “Elizabeth Knox & SpecFic”
And I will give you the update on writing progress for the week—but at the end of the day, guys, not the beginning. (You gotta give a gal some breaks, right?)
But reading Tim Jones’s comment on yesterdays’s post on Elizabeth Knox and Spec Fic Christchurch, in particular the divide between “literary fiction”—which Knox indicated she felt was ‘just another genre’—and other literature, made me think: do I consciously consider “genre” when I choose a book to read. Do you?
For me, there are definitely certain kinds of stories that I like more than others (I don’t read much crime fiction for example; not none, but definitely not a lot): the full gamut of fantasy-scifi (ok, speculative fiction) is definitely right up there, but so, too, is historical fiction and historical non-fiction. And I do like contemporary realism in all its forms, from the lighter social comedy through to the big serious reads. And when I get to the last page, I usually say one of three things to myself: either, “that was a really good read, I really liked it”; or, “urgh, didn’t think much of that”; or, “it was ok, but it didn’t wow me.”
I don’t think I ever add the tag: “for a romance”, or “for scifi”, or “for contemporary fiction”.
There can be all sorts of things tied up in that final decision, such as: did I love the characters? Was I gripped by the story? Did the book contain great ideas? Did I connect with it deeply at an emotional level? Was it fun? (There are definitely always bonus points for laugh-out-loud funny.)
But probably the most important one for me as a writer is always: did the book absorb me sufficiently that I didn’t even notice the writing, let alone stop to think about how the author was doing what they were doing—what Owen Marshall calls “taking the back off the clock.” And although it can be great to look at all those tiny cogs and wheels in a second reading, especially when I admire a work, I really like it when a book draws me in and wraps me up in itself so that —until that last full stop is reached—I don’t even think about anything except the world of the story.
Which is why I think (and I think from what she said), like Knox, that all this genre stuff is just so much @#!* (full in letters of choice), really!
But what do you think?
I agree. I think a good story is a good story, no matter what genre it is. To me, it’s like painting. The greatest painters in the world weren’t all abstract, or all realists, or all impressionists. No one style is better, smarter, or more important. To me, anyway.
I have my favorite genres, just as I have my favorite style of art, but I appreciate plenty outside of my favorites too. If someone told me a book was wonderful, I’d read it, even if it was about cars and big guns 🙂
In the end, I think genre is just a guideline that a) gives bookstores a way to categorize their stock, and b) readers a way to narrow down their search for a book they’ll like. I don’t think anything is better than anything else, simply because it’s literary, or fantasy, or sci-fi, or romance. It’s all story.
I think we’re on the same page, Wendy. And the trouble is, if reading categories get too narrow or rigid, whether self imposed to help our busy lives, or imposed by publishers/bookstores in terms of ‘reading ages’ (frequently more miss than hit, imo) or genre labels then we end up missing out on a lot of great stories.
I agree too, but I think the view that literary fiction is both entirely distinct from, and inherently superior to, genre fiction – however arbitrary the distinction made between those categories – has far from disappeared. That means it’s still a praiseworthy act for someone who made their early reputation writing realist fiction, and then turned to fantastic fiction, to state what it is that they are now writing.
Hmmm … not sure that’s very clear … too many late nights, too many World Cup games …
Entirely clear, Tim. (Or should I say “Ole!”, getting into that World Cup spirit?) And of course I agree re the praiseworthy! ‘Entirely’, as Buffy would say.
I agree. I’ve often thought that about art as well. The more narrowly you start to define something, the less room there is for real creativity, and that’s seems like a dangerous thing to me.
Here’s another interview with Neil Gaiman on exactly this subject.
(Sorry, I wish I knew how to embed the link instead of having to put in the long version!)
http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/booksblog/2010/jun/23/neil-gaiman-short-stories?utm_source=twitterfeed&utm_medium=twitter
Thanks for the link, Wendy.
I think genre labels primarily exist for organizational purpose- What shelf in the library or book store should it go on? What page of their website should the publisher put it on? How should it be advertised so that people looking for “that sort of read” can find it?
By nature, humans name, categorize and label things.
What bothers me is when organization becomes a way of marginalizing, or lording one thing over another. And for some reason, that is human nature too:(
I agree—and why it’s important we question categorization when it seems more unhelpful than not, and why it is great to have writers of Knox’s stature “owning” her “Fantastic Naturalism.”