I’m way less of an avid reader than you are; the limited time slot still available to do the things that please and fulfill me (and brain activity plays an important part in), urge me to make choices, which comes down to what you refer to in your opening. I have too many interests. That does not help.
Your decision to quit reading novels that “wallow in misery” might be an excellent one to make, for you, that is. I like the way you can rant away without ever sounding simplistic, overly disapproving or judgmental. You always slowly build your plea, leaving room for the opinions of others, but in a purposeful way.
In this light I enjoyed your first footnote; after all of your polite argumentation, the cat’s out of the bag: you’re done with it, but expressed with humorous exaggeration.
When it comes to novels, the only thing I’m doctrinaire about is: don’t be doctrinaire. Everyone has to work out for themselves what they like. I went through a phase of being too willing to listen to advice from experts and ideologues,, Not any more, but I do worry that novels will end up being commercial trash churned out by AI at one end and tiresome, overly academic dirges at the other, with nothing in between.
I like Paul Murray a lot too! Although I think a certain bleakness was there all along. For all its humour, I found Skippy Dies — one of the best novels of the century so far, in my opinion — also one of the saddest.
I read this like a I got up in the wrong side of the bed rant. You are literally doing what you’re attempting to proscribe. An unclear thought done as a stream of consciousness is remarkably unsatisfying.
You saved it by mentioning the much ignored Sharpe. Now, more than ever, we need a Blott on this landscape.
Now- can you stop blithering on your lack of an inner voice and perform your calling. Write parodies, not caring who you skewer or whether your sarcasm crosses a line
Thank you for taking the time to comment. You may be surprised to learn that I spend a lot of time making my light pieces sound like a ‘wrong side of the bed rant’, so this remark made me smile with satisfaction.
What irked a bit, was the claim that I was trying to proscribe anything. I make it very clear that I do not agree proscribing reading material. I was expressing personal taste and I could not have put that in easier to understand terms.
Especially books about the hell of being a white male author...
Yes, although I would extend that to any novel about the pain of being a novelist.
I’m way less of an avid reader than you are; the limited time slot still available to do the things that please and fulfill me (and brain activity plays an important part in), urge me to make choices, which comes down to what you refer to in your opening. I have too many interests. That does not help.
Your decision to quit reading novels that “wallow in misery” might be an excellent one to make, for you, that is. I like the way you can rant away without ever sounding simplistic, overly disapproving or judgmental. You always slowly build your plea, leaving room for the opinions of others, but in a purposeful way.
In this light I enjoyed your first footnote; after all of your polite argumentation, the cat’s out of the bag: you’re done with it, but expressed with humorous exaggeration.
When it comes to novels, the only thing I’m doctrinaire about is: don’t be doctrinaire. Everyone has to work out for themselves what they like. I went through a phase of being too willing to listen to advice from experts and ideologues,, Not any more, but I do worry that novels will end up being commercial trash churned out by AI at one end and tiresome, overly academic dirges at the other, with nothing in between.
I like Paul Murray a lot too! Although I think a certain bleakness was there all along. For all its humour, I found Skippy Dies — one of the best novels of the century so far, in my opinion — also one of the saddest.
Skippy Dies is a great blend of humor and sadness. It's unrelenting gloom that I won't be reading.
I read this like a I got up in the wrong side of the bed rant. You are literally doing what you’re attempting to proscribe. An unclear thought done as a stream of consciousness is remarkably unsatisfying.
You saved it by mentioning the much ignored Sharpe. Now, more than ever, we need a Blott on this landscape.
Now- can you stop blithering on your lack of an inner voice and perform your calling. Write parodies, not caring who you skewer or whether your sarcasm crosses a line
Thank you for taking the time to comment. You may be surprised to learn that I spend a lot of time making my light pieces sound like a ‘wrong side of the bed rant’, so this remark made me smile with satisfaction.
What irked a bit, was the claim that I was trying to proscribe anything. I make it very clear that I do not agree proscribing reading material. I was expressing personal taste and I could not have put that in easier to understand terms.