Writers’ conferences , as you may have long suspected, have a pecking order – and most of us are at the bottom…
Literary Luxuries by Joe David Bellamy (image courtesy University of Missouri Press)
(For previous essays in this series, look here and here.)
This week’s look at Joe David Bellamy’s book of essays on the state of American Writing (by which you by now have gathered he’s talking mainly about litfic), Literary Luxuries, takes a look at that interesting phenomenon of the literary world that has evolved since the advent of the brave new world of teaching creative writers, the writers’ conference. There are a couple of essays to discuss for this topic, so we’ll take a look at both. We’ll also be looking at what writers’ conferences really are – and whether they make a difference for the rank and file writer.
Bellamy’s essays take two almost opposing views of the writers’ conference. In the first essay, “The Bread Loaf Experience,” his tone is tongue in cheek bordering at times on caustic as he describes (based on his own experience, of course) what attending perhaps the most renowned of writers’ conferences is like. Bread Loaf is attended not just by the great and renowned but by many, many aspiring writers who hope by attending sessions to catch the attention of a powerful figure whether that person be another writer, a literary agent, or an editor from an important publishing house. While it is possible (and perhaps on the rare occasion has happened) that some young talent will be plucked from obscurity and scale the heights of literary fiction (or poetic, one assumes, though this would be rare indeed given poetry’s difficult position over the last half century or more) to achieve critical acclaim, “respectable” sales (let’s not kid ourselves about the American reading public, okay?), and perhaps the “patronage” of a creative writing post at a prestigious college or university.
Ah, the dreams of would be Salingers, Vonneguts, Atwoods, Oateses…. Continue reading
John McPhee’s greatness lies in his ability to make the real world and its inhabitants as interesting as if they were fictional…
The Survival of the Bark Canoe by John McPhee (image courtesy Goodreads)
Here’s one from the 2014 reading list that I’ve been looking forward to reading. I have been a John McPhee fan since I was an undergraduate. My composition class “reader” had an excerpt from Oranges about fighting a frost in Florida with smudge pots that hooked me on his approach to nonfiction. (Some of the more hoary of you working through this piece may remember those books called readers. They were books of essays by great nonfiction writers assigned in 1st year composition classes to provide “writing models” to callow 18 years olds in the quaintly delusional hope that some of the greatness of an E.B. White, Lewis Thomas or John McPhee would enter our heads and come out through our pens back in those halcyon days when we rode dinosaurs to classes.) The use of these has been widely discontinued – an act, I suspect, owing as much to the despair writing teachers feel of ever encountering a writer who could, to borrow a metaphor from Rogers Hornsby, at least “carry the bat” of a White or Thomas – or McPhee – as to changes in the pedagogical approach to teaching writing. Continue reading
One of the things an aspiring writer learns quickly is that literary magazine editors are a quirky lot…but that there are lots of literary magazines these days….
cover, Fiction International (image courtesy Fiction International website)
(For previous essays in this series, look here)
My second essay on Joe David Bellamy’s interesting look at the literary community at the end of the last century, Literary Luxuries: American Writing at the End of the Millennium, is Bellamy’s essay on his time as a literary magazine editor (and founder).
The essay is really about two issues – issues that relate to the politics behind literary fiction and its outlets and the politics surrounding the relationship between creative writing programs and English departments. Bellamy’s essay is worth a look because it reminds us of the evolution of English departments, the rise of creative writing programs, the role of “little” or literary magazines in the move of serious literary work (both fiction and poetry) out of the mainstream, and how the Internet has allowed a renaissance of sorts for literary magazines many of whom were almost done in by publishing costs before the Web came along to save them (and allow the rise of many new journals including the one here at Scholars and Rogues).
Bellamy’s essay also offers a good history of the “old system” of literary magazines, those who either still publish in print (with ever diminishing results) or have only very recently moved to online publication. That will allow me to offer a few remarks about the newer, somewhat chaotic scene that has arisen thanks to the proliferation of independent publishing outlets who can make their way via the Internet. Continue reading
Frazier’s historical novel was a great success even though it is rather indifferent both as history and as a novel…
Rivers Parting by Shirley Barker (image courtesy Amazon)
A confessions of sorts.
I have always been something of a fan of the historical novel. My interest began probably with Twain’s A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court in my early teens and has been primed occasionally over the years with the occasionally discovered tasteful or tasteless gem (many courtesy of my late and dearly missed Aunt Barbara). Through her taste for middle brow lit I wound up reading (without parental consent, of course) Forever Amber which led me to Moll Flanders and then to A Journal of the Plague Year (I’d read Robinson Crusoe years earlier as a child). So in a weird way, the same woman who’d schooled me in serious lit by constantly forcing me to take another volume from the Harvard Classics each time I visited her (she sometimes had me read from the works to her after I’d finished mowing her yard and was enjoying a glass of lemonade or iced tea) also, in passing along her old book club selections to my mother gave me an introduction into what Middle America found fascinating reading from the 1950’s through 1970’s. The great thing about this was that, prior to what Twain would describe as my transformation from cabbage to cauliflower, I read both Daniel Defoe and Kathleen Winsor as equals.
The historical novel that has been my guilty pleasure longest (so much so that when I lost my old, well marked copy from my Aunt Barbara I purchased another via AbeBooks) is a novel about colonial days in New Hampshire called Rivers Parting by Shirley Barker. Barker and her novel are both worth a a few moments consideration. Continue reading
American literary fiction over the last 50 years has been, it seems, in a struggle to find an audience…
Literary Luxuries: American Writing at the End of the Millennium by Joe David Bellamy (image courtesy University of Missouri Press)
Another book from the 2014 reading list composed of essays. This one, Literary Luxuries: American Writing at the End of the Millenium, is a collection of essays by writer, writing teacher, and litfic cheerleader Joe David Bellamy. Since this is a book of essays that range over a number of issues confronting the literary community, it seems logical to look at Bellamy’s book in sections. So, as I’ve done with a book of scholarly essays on popular music as protest, I’ll be looking at this work over a number of weeks. This will allow me to share Bellamy’s wide ranging discussions of issues such as of support for the arts (particularly literature), writers’ conferences, creative writing programs, and styles of literary fiction.
Bellamy has a lot to say about each of these areas (and others) and his opinions are – interesting might be the best word. I agree with some of his assessment of the state of litfic, some of it I would say probably needs updating, and some of it smacks of his personal biases. That last is not necessarily a bad thing – except when he resorts to trying to make literature style an object of political analysis.
The first essay in the collection is a good place to start as it gives an overview of where American literary culture was at the end of the 20th century. To be fair to Bellamy, this book is 19 years old, so some of his observations about the state of the American literary scene are dated – and certainly an essay from the mid 1990’s could not anticipate the changes in both publishing and book culture that have occurred in the last two decades. Continue reading
Kromer’s novel of The Great Depression was his only fully achieved work…
Waiting for Nothing by Tom Kromer (image courtesy Goodreads)
I realize I have been remiss.
Despite two updates to my 2014 reading list (see here and here) I have still more books that I’ve added. So once I finish this essay on a rather singular work of literature from The Great Depression, I suppose it’s incumbent upon me to write a short piece to still further update my reading list.
But writing about the books themselves is ever so much more enjoyable, so let’s get to that first, shall we?
Waiting for Nothing by Tom Kromer is one of those books that rattles around in the halls of academe periodically as a “lost classic.” I first encountered it in my first full time college teaching job back in 1987 at Salem College. A now “lost and by the wind grieved” colleague, Pete Jordan, asked me if I were familiar with the work. When I told him no, he thrust a copy into my hands and told me in no uncertain terms that it was a book I should know.
I took it home and read it in an evening. (That’s not a prodigious feat – the book is more a novella than a novel and the edition I reread for this essay, a very nice remounting by the University of Georgia Press, logs in at only 130 pages). It’s an alternately engrossing and wrenching narrative based on Kromer’s time as a “stiff” (the term refers to the many hobos who spent their time drifting from town to city across the country looking for work during the depths of the economic crisis in the early 1930’s). Continue reading
Stieg Larsson’s crime novel The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo is really an examination of moral and ethical ambiguity….
The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo by Stieg Larsson (image courtesyGoodreads)
The next novel from my 2014 reading list is the first in a trilogy (yet again with the trilogies – sheesh) that has swept to great success. The late Stieg Larsson’s The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo is a solid enough crime novel, and its foreign setting, for many readers, (it’s set in Sweden, for those who don’t know) is, I’m sure, an element of allure. Add to this the familial, financial/corporate, technological, and journalistic threads that are the material of the novel’s fabric and it’s easy to understand why the novel has been a runaway bestseller.
While I have proclaimed loud and long that I am not much of a genre fan, (unless one considers classic literature a genre – which I suppose it is, though the classification would then come from its historical significance rather than its subject matter – and that, of course, then begs the question “What do we mean by ‘genre’?” – and here I’ll stop since I now begin to sound like Jacques Derrida), if pressed, I will admit to a fondness for mystery/crime fiction. Given the hoopla that’s surrounded these novels, since I’ve promised to stretch myself by reading more genre work (see my comments at the 2014 reading list link), choosing one of these books seemed an obvious decision. Continue reading