So I came across this old post from Ezra Klein’s blog where he quotes Nick Hornby, and I had to laugh.
Perfect. Just a perfect description of the literary genre. What I like best is that Hornby isn’t whining about the writing style, he’s simply commenting that he is incapable of duplicating it in his own writing, and that the characters who inhabit these books act in ways totally foreign to him.
Let’s follow Hornby’s example and not complain about things here, alright? What would be more interesting is to have a comprehensive list of the standard conventions of contemporary lit-fic. Please note that this does not include older works of genuine literature. I just want a description of relatively recent books that are shelved under the label “Literature”, whether or not they’ll have any actual staying power in the ages to come.
Not every lit-fic book will use every convention, just as not every SF book has ships with FTL drives. There will be generalizations, and some won’t fit. But I think the Doperific audience here can come up with a damn impressive and accurate list. When you list a convention, feel free to provide a short excerpt like Hornby does that exemplifies your suggestion. I’ll start it out.
2)The “everybody is a bastard” novel: Character studies of a group of unlikable people (though not actually antiheroes)
3)The Eco factor: Gratuitous referencing of obscure art, literature, history, etc. The kind of book where the reader needs another book to detail the allusions in the first book. Named after the Italian author Umberto Eco.
Fucked-up sexual relationships. Everyone’s fucking everyone for all the wrong reasons. I had a Literature of Trauma class last year and by God, after the quarter I felt like I never wanted to have sex again.
7.) The Novelty Narration Novel (NNN): Though rare, this type of book is always stocked on the “literature” shelf. Dispensing with the standard forms of story telling, these novels rely on non traditional methods. The plot is advanced by 300 pages of fictional e-mails, a series of back and forth letters between two star crossed lovers, ramblings from a political prisoner transcribed from the few scraps of paper he was able to access, or a similar device. This species invariably unfolds the story through a series of small, disjointed missives. Also known as a " Puzzle Piece Plot" (PPP)
I think that the convention of the “literary” novel is that there *are *no conventions: it’s a non-genre; it’s what’s left over after all the other movies have had their genres assigned.
Beautiful, lyrical, descriptive, soaring, penetrating, illuminating prose begging to be savored over and over. Which generally makes “literature” more difficult to get through than lighter fiction, though infinitely more rewarding.
I would like to point out that this “non-traditional” form is actually a type of epistolary novel, and was at one point far more popular than the first or third-person single narrative novel. We only think of it as non-traditional nowadays because people don’t employ it all that often. I guess I’m trying to say that epistolary novels are a traditional method of telling a story – I mean, it’s been around since the fifteenth century or so.
This might be linked to points two and four, but self-destructive behaviour is rampant. Strung-out druggies, prostitutes without a heart of gold, alcoholism, self-abuse (not the fun kind), etc.
Also, ANGST, with a capital A-N-G-S-T. Why be happy when you can be tormented? Why relax when you’re living on borrowed time? Why look at your girlfriend and think she’s pretty, when you could think about the girlfriend who was much prettier but killed herself after you knocked her up so she’s not so pretty anymore anyway?
Allright, so if we add Nick Hornby’s comments from our vintner’s (i.e. Kendall Jackson’s) OP (it’ll be #7), this is what we have for our list of current “literary” conventions so far:
1.) Unhappy endings
2.) Unlikable and/or irredeemable characters
3.) Obscure references
4.) Dysfunctional sexual relationships
5.) Many, many metaphors
6.) Heavy, but sometimes beautiful, prose
7.) ANGST
8.) Decidedly non-everyman thought processes for the characters
And tack on an asterisk for the epistolary sub-genre. (Thanks, Miss McKnittington)
The OP’s start of “No Happy Endings” was what I first thought of when I saw the thread title. I agree with Exapno’s general characterization, but this insistence on No Happy Endings seems to be pretty universal and utterly unnecessary in meeting Exapno’s criteria. If there is a happy ending it automatically drops critical reception of a book. I just read how Hemingway said that the natural ending of “Huckleberry Finn” was when Jim ended up in chains – the rest of the novel , in his opinion, diminished the book. There seems to be a general feeling that Life is Miserable/Unfair/Difficult At Best, and if an author slaps a ha[ppy ending on it he’s not acknowledging this fundamental fact, and is merely catering to the masses’ desire for a Happy Ending, or betraying his own art. If you want to give an idea of what a Happy Ending will be like, you can always have the character imagine what that ending will be like (although dreaming it is almost as cheap as actually having ity. “It was just a dream” is the domain of hacks), but the early appearance of this false happy ending will clue everyone in that you’re simply showing what might have been, and the protagonist is REALLY going to be hit by a ton of reality bricks. Life has to be Miserable to be considered literature.
In real Life, on the other hand, things occasionally do end up with a Happy Resolution that can convincingly be said to round out the events under consideration. It’s have to be that way, by statistics alone. Of course, eventually the actors in that drama all die and/or have awful things happen to them. Maybe critics want a sad or indifferent ending because it’ll remind them of death.
Extremely contrived idosyncratic characterizations. The type that would only appear in a novel (That last crust of bread would always make Edward think of that long lost love of his, but he would always shove a little under the fridge for the rats to eat, the lovely rats that are the embodyment of the Buddhist rotation and instability of the Universe, yadayada). Most genre fiction avoids this by either not having idiosyncratic characterizations or just letting the characters be crazy for crazy sake. But the lit novel usually tries to justify it to the readers. Even if it is justification through the thoughts of the characters, these usually just annoy me.
This often goes along with No Happy Endings and Dysfunctional Sexual Relationships: there are No Happy Families. Characters don’t think, “Well, Mom is a little annoying and overbearing, but she does the best she can.” No, it’s “My mother’s sense of frustration with her own repressed life turned her into a monster who foisted her own ambitions onto her children.”
Serious literature is character driven rather than plot driven. In popular genre fiction* you have to keep the plot moving at a snappy (even breakneck) pace, often at the expense of characterization and even plausibility. In literary fiction, the author explores the characters much more deeply, often at the expense of moving the story along, sometimes even forgetting to tell a story at all.
*Is all popular fiction genre fiction? It seems that way to me.
The Protagonist’s Bizarre Scheme or Odd Invention WILL NOT SUCCEED.
Weird mechanical/chemical devices or contrived schemes in anything attempting to be Serious Literature is invariably going to fail. I think such things appear to Serious Witers to be only one step removed from a deus ex machina, and that’s even worse than a Contrived Happy Ending. You are allowed to have a character with one crazy idea, or even more, but you canm only use it to illustrate the character’s capability for self-delusion and removal from reality. Even if that character is a sympathetic one, this love of and reliance on far-out ideas will only serve to crush his or her spirit later on. Again, if you want to come up with a scene of the scheme or invention succeeding, you can always do it in an extended scene in which this character (or even someone else) only imagines it to be so. But that;s not the same as having it actually happen. (The early appearance of such a scene clues the reader in to how badly things will realy turn out – the author wouldn’t describe this before it will happen, then describe it again when it actually does occur. Dreams of glory invariably presage a catastrophic fall.)
Again, there’s no fundamental reason that this has to be the case – in real life improbable-appearing schemes do sometimes work, and odd inventions often do succeed. And, again, statistically this must invariably be so. But don’t do it if you’re making a bid for literary success yourself. Charlet Allnut in Forester’s “The African Queen” the novel failed miserably. It’s only in the movie (with its masses-pleasing Happy Ending) that she blew up the Luisa.
Pain. Pompous prose. No plot. At times, no character arc, either-just meandering prose that is pure conceit at best and barely disguised navel gazing at worst.
Obscure references to even more obscure tragdies for the most inane things (see convoluted metaphors upthread). Supposed deep undertones and heavy symbolism regarding objects or places (usually the property of the involved characters). People aren’t people with problems, but massive forces with maleficent powers over other sad sacks. Sad ending or no ending (no resolution).
And no one ever goes to the grocery store.
I tend to think that “literary” fiction often avoids any reference to time (though place is often set in stone) in an attempt to produce a work that is “timeless.” Which usually comes off, to my mind, as being a bit forced at the very least.
Exapno Mapcase, I’ll agree that most literary fiction uses more florid language, but it’s not necessary - just look at Hemingway. And, as other posters have mentioned - while you’ve stated the ideal, not many succeed at it.