More on "Greatness"

Yes, this is another topic I've discussed before but my good friend, The Mother, pointed out a pertinent article so I had to jump in with it. In this case, the article is all about six great novels that were originally hated. Now, I discussed earlier how hard it was to determine what is/was great when something first comes out. This article brings that view into focus.

What amazed me, however, is that I literally didn't like a one of them. Now, I know people who like one or the other of them, so I'm not saying they're not great. I'm saying they didn't speak to me (The best thing that ever happened to Tolkien, in my opinion, was Peter Jackson, but that's just my opinion). but that sparked a few other trains of thought. One of which falls from my much earlier assertion that "classic" is largely determined by time. But, it occurs to me not every book survives through time because it touches people even today, that is says something timeless.

Some books are classics largely because they mark changes in the written word, set precedents, demonstrate key qualities in the written word, or even effect social change. Beowulf, for example, is unlikely to speak to the average student. What makes it worth teaching in school, (which is probably why it is still in print) is that it is one of the earliest examples of a story documented in English or a form of it. Chaucer also set a precedent, and though I can intellectually get into what makes it worth examining, it doesn't touch me.

Some books or stories are firsts in some arena or another. Some make tremendous use of language, set a new trend, typify a movement, or changed the kind of characters we, the readers, would accept. Some challenged social mores or prejudices. Some brought social disgraces to the light of day.

Now let me be clear. There are many classics taught in school that can still touch today's audiences, that are timeless, even if they do one or more of the things that I alluded to in the previous two paragraphs. Poe, for instance, comes to mind. Or Washing Irving. Or Shakespeare. But there are, in my opinion, some works that probably would have wandered off into obscurity if they hadn't demonstrated some teachable thing or another.

Having said that, there are a number of classics that don't disappear because, generation after generation, people find themselves compelled by the original works, even though they don't do any of the things that would make them key elements in academia. They have stories or flights of imagination or characters that speak to people generation after generation, even if the original audience thought little of them, even if the writing will never be "classic". Even if they're full of flaws.

Wuthering Heights comes to mind. I'd hate to have to teach the novel. It's full of unlikable characters, less than stellar writing and improbable action. I read it a dozen times growing up and I have it on my ereader so I can read it again when ever I want because, though the characters are unlikeable, they are compelling. The book is up to its eyeballs in passion and emotion and, if you get caught up in it, it can wring you out.

A dozen other examples come to mind like Jane Austen or H. G. Wells or Edgar Rice Burroughs or Arthur Conan Doyle or Collette Or Dorothy Sayers or, yes, Georgette Heyer.. Stories and works where characters touch us, or our imagination takes flight or we see things in different ways. Sometimes we're amused. Sometimes we're touched. Sometimes, our minds are intrigued and forced to think about things differently. Different fans of the same book can often find different reasons for being compelled.

Frequently, these are the books we return to over and over again. Interestingly enough, these are also the books that are least likely to die, even if curriculums change or better examples come into place. Why? Because they are introduced to the next generations not by teachers as books required for school, but by people who love them as the reasons they love to read.

In my opinion.

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Value vs. Worth

Serendipity can be a fascinating thing. Here I am, planning to discuss the difference between greatness and non-greatness (and how slippery that notion is) when the NYT coughs up an article discussing that very thing. In the article, the discussion was all about how art was changed during restoration, how science has shown what paintings originally looked like, found forgeries that were found to be genuine and classics that turned out to be fakes. It's an interesting article for those of you that like art, but I was most struck by what it said about the art.

It’s a picture. And the picture is the same whether it is said to be old or new, genuine or fake, an original or a copy. It becomes no more or less elegant or funny looking. Its role in the evolving narratives of art history changes. Its price can go up or down. But cost is not value. [my emphasis]

That is what I wanted to talk about, the value of something for someone, regardless of how much it's supposedly worth.

Now I have talked about this before (on one of my other blogs, Rocket Scientist), but I was doing so from a different perspective. You are welcome to take a look at those posts and see if I contradict myself: here, here, here, and here.Today I want to challenge the notion that people, even educated people, can definitively say what's "great" and what's "garbage."

[For this discussion, I would like to assume we're talking about writing with a minimum level of technical competence. I'm talking about what some people call garbage without it necessarily being clumsily written.]

Why am I challenging this? There are a large number of people with literature degrees that know what's good, what's worth teaching, what's classic. True, though, those are often focused on what's from the past, those works that have stood the test of time. To look at the work available today and say this is "worth" reading and something else isn't shows a certain level of arrogance.

More than that, though, it shows a lack of understanding in people. Why? Because people don't all like the same things, read for the same reasons. The value of a book to any particular reader is dependent on too many factors to absolutely say something is worthless.

For some, it might be capturing a different age, feeling it surround you, even if the characters are cardboard. For some, it might mean breathing life into a character, or capturing a particular aspect of a character that a reader can identify with, can completely immerse themselves in. It might mean a tight clever plot that builds itself phrase by word into a cohesive perfection with no loose ends and leaving one satisfied. That doesn't mean that they're flawless, but that they fulfill a need.

It might mean living vicariously in a world where love is true and overwhelming that lets someone escape from their cold and empty existence. It might be the triumph of someone overcoming incredible hardship by living a full life that allows someone recovering from tragedy or trauma to hope. It might be escaping into a world of horror and fear, if only to appreciate the world one lives in. It could be to challenge one's mind with a puzzle, a riddle to be solved. It could be a world of fantasy or the future where merit is rewarded, a place where one can dream of achieving anything. It might be reading a master with some aspect of writing, like dialog or children or setting, someone who makes you feel inspired when you put them back down.

Sometimes, it's just that a reader "gets" what the writer wanted to convey, gets something that touches them, changes them, makes them feel or think or dream. And it doesn't matter if it's a romance novel or an award winner, if it's a young adult novel or a potboiler. The value of that book is that it touched you in some way.

What makes it challenging for those in the profession of reviewing books is that the "getting" it is completely subjective. If you don't "get" it, you not only find the book (or movie or whatever) uninspiring, you can't see what others see in it. Too often, the reviewer assumes that, if they didn't "get" it, there's nothing to get. By the same token, those that "experts" often see as "great" leave the public scratching their heads. Why? Because they don't get it. (Much like folks like me feel about Pollack in the world of art - say what?)

I don't get the Harry Potter books. I don't. I don't think they're horrible, but they don't touch me. But they touch many many people. They speak to them, inspire them, make them dream. I can admire that even though I don't "get" it. They definitely have worth to quite a contingent of people. Does my lack of "getting it" preclude greatness? Certainly not, any more than my being caught up in a different book, the Liaden series or Twilight that I totally get ensures greatness.

But, to me, they are great because they touch me, they speak to me. That gives them worth for me, whatever the rest of the world might think.

As the article I alluded to earlier said:

But look, never mind what the label says, and you may notice something else about the picture, too, some other truth.

It’s beautiful.

For most of us, that's enough.

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