The comforting feeling of knowing you've got a giant fuck-off novel to read

[Keebleman]

I'm reading Anna Karenina, which is not as huge a tome as War and Peace, but not far off. There's a surprising immediacy to Tolstoy's writing, especially when it comes to his characters' psychology.  He tells you what they are thinking and feeling, and how their thoughts and emotions are changing, and how intense they are, and he does so in great detail.  It's the sort of directness that creative writing courses dissuade you from ("Show, don't tell!") but it makes his fiction feel much more rooted in the real world than, say, Dickens' work is.

[Famous Mortimer]

I'm about halfway through "The Recognitions", and it's every bit as good as advertised.

I've found it useful to have this site open - https://www.williamgaddis.org/recognitions/preface.shtml - and to check the list of references at the end of each chapter, because there's stuff in different languages and things which may have been popular or well-known in the 50s that aren't so much today, etc.

I'm taking my time because there's a lot of it, and some of the chapters, such as the one I finished a few days ago

Spoiler alert

where Wyatt has a breakdown, steals a gold bull and sods off home to become a priest

[close]

are really dense with dialogue and references.

I'm going to have a break with a nice bit of non-fiction after this, though, before I go on to any of his other books, or one of the other big ol' maximalist novels like a Pynchon. 

[Astronaut Omens]

I've given up on it before about 100 pages in, just because I really felt a massive drop off-in inspiration when the focus moved from the Minister father to the artist son- I remember thinking that it felt as if Gaddis really liked the father and thought that Wyatt was a bit of a Nathan Barley type idiot and the book just started gripping me a bit less. Does the writing about Wyatt become more engaging? (My reading may have been coloured by reading Gaddis' novel Agape Agape, which is a bit curmudgeonly towards the young 'uns.

[Famous Mortimer]

Certainly in the central section of the novel, he's not the central character - it moves towards the lives of the people in New York, and Wyatt pops up a little but Otto gets more space.

Also, there's a weird thing where

Spoiler alert

from page 300 or so onwards, Wyatt is never referred to by name again, which is an interesting idea but several conversations are tied in knots by it, like he had the idea but couldn't work out how to get sections of it to flow properly.

[close]

[Astronaut Omens]

You wonder with tricks like that what he was trying to achieve. My guess is that putting barriers to comprehension in like that makes skim-reading impossible, which maybe forces a more careful reading?

[Famous Mortimer]

You wonder with tricks like that what he was trying to achieve. My guess is that putting barriers to comprehension in like that makes skim-reading impossible, which maybe forces a more careful reading?

It's a decent idea.

I've really enjoyed it - I'm about 150 pages from the end, and will probably finish it tomorrow. Having read the synopsis after each chapter (from the site I linked to above) there's so much going on that even a fairly careful first read doesn't pick up, serious plot-points buried in an off-hand remark in the middle of a conversation about a million other things...it's extremely dense.

[Famous Mortimer]

Finished it, and while I enjoyed it, I tend to agree with Jonathan Franzen who says it's the most difficult book he's ever finished.

There were quotations in Latin, Spanish, Hungarian, and six other languages to be rappelled across. Blizzards of obscure references swirled around sheer cliffs of erudition, precipitous discourses on alchemy and Flemish painting, Mithraism and early-Christian theology. The prose came in page-long paragraphs in which oxygen was at a premium, and the emotional temperature of the novel started cold and got colder. The hero, Wyatt Gwyon, was likable as a child ("a small disgruntled person"), but otherwise the author's satiric judgments and intellectual obsessions discouraged intimacy. It was a struggle to figure out what, or even who, the story was about; dialogue was punctuated with dashes and largely unattributed; Wyatt himself dwindled to a furtive, seldom-glimpsed pronoun ("he"); there came brutish party scenes, all-dialogue word storms that raged for scores of pages.

That's accurate. I can understand that he hides the identity of characters we've already met because the person who a section is focused on doesn't know who they are - that I can handle, and I found that assuming "the Cold Man" (or whoever) was someone who'd already appeared in a different context served me pretty well.

I still thoroughly enjoyed the experience. Maybe I'll read it again down the line, and really take my time over it. Still, I'm going to take a break with some light-ish non-fiction then crack into "Gravity's Rainbow" next.

[I.D. Smith]

Agreed. Life is too damn short.

I was thinking about this today. I'm quite a slow reader, so tend to read about 8-12 books a year. Say 10 on average. I'm also about to turn 40. So assuming I don't have any major disasters, I might live till about 75-80. So that's about 350 to 400 books left in my life. Seems a lot written down, but it's only about an average sized Ikea Bookcase. I think I need to be quite selective and cut-throat about what I read for the remainder of my life, and not be afraid about ditching books if I'm not enjoying them.

I'm currently reading It's Vader Time by Leon White and Kenny Casanova.

[fucking ponderous]

I've started reading The Recognitions and I understand very little of it. But it's nice to feel like I'm reading someone who knows how to write properly, after 1000 pages of David Foster Wallace (half joking).

[ASFTSN]

Finished The Count of Monte Cristo last night, staying up late to read the last 150 odd pages. While it didn't need to be quite as giant fuck-off as it is (I know it was serialised) and could have been edited down quite comfortably, it was bloody good.

The Count is kind of

Spoiler alert

....a very morally dubious superhero? With his super powers being effectively infinite wealth and determination. I really like the way he lost control of revenge at the end, with unnecessary deaths and strife to those that he didn't directly seek revenge on and so forth.


Bit dodge that he decided to pair off with Haydée in the end eh.

[close]

Still, a great book. It'll be a bit of an odd feeling not to have this narrative floating over my day-to-day life all the time.

[Famous Mortimer]

Digging through my boxes of books cos I've got the day off, I find "Q" by Luther Blissett, which I started reading a few years ago but I moved house and stopped. But it's a chunky bugger so I think is quite appropriate for this thread.

[imitationleather]

That made me go "The footballer Luther Blissett has written a book?!" so I toddled off to find out more.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Luther_Blissett_(nom_de_plume)

Blimey, what an interesting story.

[Famous Mortimer]

Alright, it's time for "Gravity's Rainbow", after a book about pirates by the world's "foremost expert" on the subject was a bit of a damp squib, reading like one of those things designed to be the guide for an exhibition more than a history.

If I get 50 pages in and completely struggle, I might buy one of those reader's guides that explains some of the shit that might have been better known when the book was published. Wish me luck!

[Kankurette]

Robert Jordan books are great for train journeys. I could happily plough through the adventures of Rand and chums while visiting my parents.

[chveik]

If I get 50 pages in and completely struggle, I might buy one of those reader's guides that explains some of the shit that might have been better known when the book was published. Wish me luck!

i think i've made my peace with the fact that Pynchon is not for me. i've never managed to finish any of his books. i'm not sure the apparent difficulty is the main factor, there's something about his style that rubs me the wrong way

[Mister Six]

I'm about halfway through Alan Moore's 1,200-page opus Jerusalem. It's divided into three "books" (literally separate volumes in the paperback version, due to the size), and it was only towards the end of the first that reading the thing went from a gruelling exercise in bloodymindedness to a genuinely enjoyable experience.

The first book, a bit like his previous novel, Voice of the Fire, is composed of short stories set across various centuries in Northampton, each focused on a different protagonist - a prostitute obsessed with Princess Diana, a black American settled in the UK, a ghost ambling around town, a medieval monk on a mission - that cross over and link together in unexpected ways.

Unfortunately, unlike in Voice of the Fire, the stories are all obscenely long, frequently packed with tedious detail about how this chip shop burned down in 1962 and that row of houses was knocked down to make a block of flats and so on and so on, and mostly lack the compelling twists and dramatic shifts that made each of the Voice stories so compelling.

Then, towards the end of book one, things take a turn for the more openly fantastical, and the story starts to move in tight chronological order with a focus on one particular character and his little entourage, and it really takes off. I've yet to see how some of the chapters in book one (particularly the three chapters  "Modern Times", "Blind, But Now I See" and "Atlantis") actually weave themselves into the grander design, but it's hard not to feel at this point like Moore could quite easily have shaved 300 pages at least off the total count.

It's a bloody tiny font with slim margins, too.

[Smeraldina Rima]

Unfortunately, unlike in Voice of the Fire, the stories are all obscenely long, frequently packed with tedious detail about how this chip shop burned down in 1962 and that row of houses was knocked down to make a block of flats and so on and so on, and mostly lack the compelling twists and dramatic shifts that made each of the Voice stories so compelling.

Not enthusiastically being a contrarion here but that sounds like something I'd enjoy reading, while I would struggle more with a long book made up of the more exciting twists you enjoyed in the other books and later in this one. I think it's because I can go into chip shops, but can't go into an exciting life, so I'd switch off. But others are better at escaping. If you're able to take a picture or scan the passage about the chip shop and the flats, I'd like to see how it's worked into the book. I've never read Alan Moore before.

[Famous Mortimer]

I didn't make it far into Jerusalem at all. It felt like it was trying to set a record for most use of similes in a page, every page, and I was so annoyed by that I failed to get any enjoyment from the story he was telling.

[Glebe]

Rereading The Lord of the Rings, as three separate books but yeah LotR. Currently at Helm's Deep.

[Egyptian Feast]

Alright, it's time for "Gravity's Rainbow", after a book about pirates by the world's "foremost expert" on the subject was a bit of a damp squib, reading like one of those things designed to be the guide for an exhibition more than a history.

If I get 50 pages in and completely struggle, I might buy one of those reader's guides that explains some of the shit that might have been better known when the book was published. Wish me luck!

I found the page-by-page annotations on this wiki very useful for references I didn't get.

[Mister Six]

Not enthusiastically being a contrarion here but that sounds like something I'd enjoy reading, while I would struggle more with a long book made up of the more exciting twists you enjoyed in the other books and later in this one. I think it's because I can go into chip shops, but can't go into an exciting life, so I'd switch off. But others are better at escaping. If you're able to take a picture or scan the passage about the chip shop and the flats, I'd like to see how it's worked into the book. I've never read Alan Moore before.

Here we go (the chip shop thing was just an example I made up... I couldn't remember exactly what was on the page)...

He went on past the shop what had the Cadbury's chocolate and the sign for Storton's Lungwort painted on the wall up top. He'd had some trouble coughing lately and he thought it could be he should maybe try a little of that stuff, if it weren't too expensive. Next you'd got the store what had the ladies' things, then Mr. Brugger's place with all the clocks and pocket-watches in its window. Up ahead of him he'd nearly caught up to the streetcar, which he saw now was the number six what went down to St. James's End, what they called Jimmy's End. There was a paid advertisement up on the rear of it for some enlarging spectacles, with two big round eyes underneath the business name what made it look as though the backside of the streetcar had a face. It reached the crossroads they were nearing and went straight across with its bell clanging, staring back towards him like it was surprised or scared as it went on down Abington Street there, while he turned left and coasted down York Road in the direction of the hospital, touching his wood blocks on the cobbles every now and then to slow him down.

There was another crossroads by the hospital down halfway, with the route what went on out towards Great Billing. He went over it and carried on downhill the way what he was going. On the corner of the hospital's front yard as he went past it, near the statue of the King's head what they had there, some young boys was laughing at his wheels with all the rope on. One of them yelled out that he should have a bath, but Henry made out like he didn't hear and went on down to Beckett's Park, as used to be Cow Meadow. Ignorant was what they were, brung up by ignorant folk. Paid no attention they'd move on and find some other fool thing they could laugh at. They weren't going to string him up or shoot him, and in that case far as Henry was concerned about it, they could shout out what the heck they liked. So long as he weren't bothered none then all they did was make they own selves look like halfwits, far as he could see.

He took a left turn at the bottom, curving round by the old yellow stone wall and into the Bedford Road just over from the park, where he touched down his wooden blocks and fetched his bicycle and cart up at the drinking fountain what was set back in a recess there. He climbed down off his saddle and he leaned the whole affair against the weather-beat old stones, with all the dandelions growed out from in between, while he stepped to the well and took a drink. It weren't that he was thirsty, but if he was down here then he liked to take a few sips of the water, just for luck. This was the place they said Saint Thomas Becket quenched his thirst when he come through Northampton ages since, and that was good enough for Henry.

[Mister Six]

I didn't make it far into Jerusalem at all. It felt like it was trying to set a record for most use of similes in a page, every page, and I was so annoyed by that I failed to get any enjoyment from the story he was telling.

Alas, he doesn't really calm down on that front.

I do heartily recommend Voice of the Fire to all, however. Just skip the spoilery introduction by Neil Gaiman, and if you don't like a challenge (albeit a rewarding one!) save the first chapter for when you're a bit more bedded in.

[Smeraldina Rima]

Here we go (the chip shop thing was just an example I made up... I couldn't remember exactly what was on the page)...

Well, I'm tired now, but might have overestimated how much of that I'd read. Thanks for digging it up. I had searched and found a similar bit you might have had in mind as well with remembered Northampton buildings under the Mayorhold car park: 'There'd be Botterill's the newsagent's, the butcher's, Phyllis Malin's barbershop, the green and white façade of the Co-operative Society, Built 1919, Branch Number 11. There'd be the grim public toilets on the corner that his mam and dad had for some reason known as Georgie Bumble's Office, and there'd be the fish and chip shop and Electric Light Working Men's Club in Bearward Street and fifty other sites of interest ground to an undifferentiated dust beneath the weight of four-by-fours and Chavercrafts now piled above.'

[Mister Six]

Yeah, there's less of this in some chapters - it depends on the interests of the particular protagonist, I suppose - but it really plagues those three chapters that I almost gave up on. If you struggle with fantasy (albeit quite grounded in "the real world" in its way), I think it will probably lose you in the second book, in which a character passes on into an afterlife heavily based around Northampton, but with devils and angels and so on.

[Famous Mortimer]

Thoroughly enjoying "Gravity's Rainbow" so far, and when I visited the page that Egyptian Feast mentioned, it suggested I read this contemporary review of the book as a good key to enjoying reading it. So far, so good, up to this point:

Apparently, it is only there that love is possible, especially love for Pynchon with his extraordinary affection for adolescent girls.

I presume / hope this was just phrased oddly and I won't have to put my foot through the book and send Thomas Pynchon the bill.

[Famous Mortimer]

No idea which thread we were discussing Pynchon in last, but this will do, pretty much. Interesting article about Gravity's Rainbow:

https://www.wired.com/story/living-under-gravitys-rainbow-thomas-pynchon/