Sunday, April 25, 2010

The Road, Cormac McCarthy

I’m a fan of post-Apocalyptic stories since the idea of being part of the privileged group of survivors trying to start a new civilization fascinates me. McCarthy’s words made me realize that I had never truly contemplated a nuclear holocaust; in this case, the privileged group consists of the people who died on impact. The Road begins with a father and son trying to make their way to the coast. Their dialogue is repetitive, ranging from “OK” to “I don’t know”, but it captures their situation in an eerily realistic way. Many post-Apocalyptic novels take the trouble to point out aspects of life that we previously took for granted, but McCarthy moves beyond this by chronicling the uncertainty between each meal. Survival becomes a strange concept as the father and son encounter other predators and victims along their journey. When tested by hopelessness and fear, the question of whether or not to cling to life does not translate into an inspirational tale. Instead, it remains a frequently tested question with no clear answer. McCarthy’s sparse use of punctuation marks and his simple, declarative sentences allowed the story to speak for itself, and his style has made me more conscious of the clutter that may exist in some of my own writing.

This Year You Write Your Novel, Walter Mosley

I scoffed at the title of this book since many of my previous teachers had mentioned great novelists who had spent a decade or longer writing their masterpieces. Mosley’s self help book is short and sweet while reiterating many of the pieces of advice I have gleaned from other craft novels (write every day, don’t expect your first draft to be a masterpiece, show don’t tell, etc.). However, Mosley has a distinct style of getting straight to business. He rarely interrupts the steady flow of advice by recounting his own struggles as a writer or by name dropping to criticize or praise the work of other authors. Mosley issues straightforward statements and illustrates them with examples of progressing stories. The story examples progress along with the book which reinforces Mosley’s advice in a simple and elegant way. All other craft books that I’ve read have made some assumptions about my knowledge of basic literary terms such as story, plot, and narrative voice. Mosley deigns to offer working definitions for these terms, and I found this extremely helpful. The author certainly stays true to his own advice like not undermining the pedestrian details that make a work relatable. This book is an approachable, refreshing read that doesn’t wallow in what it means to be a writer.

The Unbearable Lightness of Being, Milan Kundera

Kundera’s novel presents a treasure trove of ideas from the applications of kitsch to betrayal as a form of bravery to questions of true love. A good portion of the book is devoted to the workings of communist Czechoslovakia where contradictions fuel Kundera’s unique ideas on humanity. Kundera alternates between an essay or lecture format and relaying the experience of four characters across Europe. A fellow reader aptly described the reading experience as akin to peering into a Petri dish. Kundera boldly uses the omniscient narrative voice in this story. I was always aware of Kundera’s shadow looming over the Petri dish, but he never attempts to hide his presence. The author even mentions his writing process in conjunction with examining his characters. The characters became examples in his essays, although they were interesting examples. Kundera’s lecture like honesty was useful at many points but became tiring at others with a number of overused examples. The pure number of ideas present made for a worthwhile read, but I felt that some of the more original ideas could have warranted novels of their own.