My English teacher and I had this repeating conversation that arose after the completion of each assigned book. It starting when the teacher asked his stock question, “Why did the author write this book?” and I would answer something like “To make the money he needs to live.” “No,” my teacher would patiently reply, “What’s the author’s point, his message?” “Oh, it was born of a wager with another English teacher: I’ll bet I can get millions of school-kids to read this piece of literary drivel; I’ll call it ‘The Lord of the Flies’”
I could never tell if the ensuing choking sounds emanating from my instructor were signs of amusement, exasperation, or admiration that one so young could already discern the crasser motives that sometimes drive activities, even those of our literary heroes.
Of course, he was right: Authors often do have a point or message and the story is just a vehicle for bringing it to us – and, of course, I was right: Authors don’t always have any high aspirations, and the story is just a story. I am unwilling to ascribe a strong message to authors of more formulaic stories, and grow weary of authors that are so obtuse that we have to go on a major investigation to pry out their meaning. Besides, if there is a large question or disagreement over what the author was attempting to convey, can we be certain that was their motive, or are we attempting after the fact to create something when perhaps they simply thought, “Hey, this would be an interesting story!”?
(I’m even more skeptical of the ‘meanings’ of classical music: I still think that Mahler was a pre-Keynesian works program, “If I don’t continue to write these massive symphonies and score them for hundreds, there will be many out-of-work musicians, and with their feeble, non-calloused hands, what else can they possibly do?” )
Too, there is the personal aspect of a story: Depending upon our particular prior experiences, any specific story may invoke in us ideas, thoughts, or allow us to connect some previously unconnected dots. However, the 'take-away' that we obtain is often more telling of us than perhaps the author: Can we be certain, unless the author had similar experiences, that we understood their point? But, if we read a book, and gain something, even some feelings, experience, or understanding that we didn't have, does it matter if the author intended or predicted it? We've gained...
So I still approach most fiction with a sense of skepticism: Entertain me, don't let me predict the outcome or the sequence (keep me guessing!) - and if it doesn't make a major point about the human condition or society's problems, etc. I'll not be unkind. If the author brings the characters to life, instills them with purpose, and entertains me, that is enough. If, however, the author does manage to convey a point or observation, even better.
I recently picked up Kraken by China Mieville on the basis of the general esteem of Mieville by Dr Farrell of George Washington University and was not disappointed: It is a rollicking good romp through the London underground, if that London underground was populated by the sorts of characters you might meet while playing World of Warcraft, D&D, etc. Mieville is a good writer, and manages to reconstruct the English language while constructing his scenes – standard turns of phrase are largely absent, instead, words appear in uncommon positions, phrases continue past normal, as if to leave no doubt that I was reading something new. “They all stared at the spot where the squid was not.” The meter is comfortable, though, and before long I was drawn in to the plot, wondering just how it could possibly shake out.
I'll say, too, that the characters that appear have purpose – purpose outside of the story, in a very vivid, we're not just here to prop up the plot kind of way. It is easy to imaging them existing outside of the narrative, with goals and desires that have been affected by the situation being described. Very much like encountering others on a massive on-line role-playing game. I would have to guess that some of that milieu provided a basis for Mieville as he wrote the story.
I was entertained thoroughly, but the real surprise came at the story's climax: The surprise villain, known, but unsuspected throughout, the tying together of the themes into a reasonable relationship, and then, whoa! A point emerged from the interchange between the protagonist and his adversary. I literally had to pinch myself, go back and re-read the chapter, but yes, Mieville has something to say. Even better, he made getting to and receiving it fun!
(Wouldn't my English teacher be proud?)
I see that 'The City & The City', Mieville's 2010 novel won the Hugo last year – guess I will have to put that on my 'to read' list, as, by Dr Farrell's account, its even better and more intellectually challenging than Kraken. If its just as good, I'm a fan!
(If you go: People in London swear. People in the seamy underground swear more. If the depiction of what a crime boss might actually say when things get out of hand and not in his favor might bother you, let me recommend instead something by J.K. Rowling. You'll have to forgo the point, but no swearing, either.)
