… according to a magazine nobody bothers to read any more. I think this article is mostly, or probably, or at least hopefully a load of crap, but the subject is certainly on a lot of people’s minds. Maybe because a lot of people want to write novels, but still … c’mon now!
The novel still stands, sure enough, but it stands uneasily, a kitschy McMansion whose vocabulary is steadfastly outdated, a form that can only look backward. I can’t think of a single full-length novel published in 2014 that did anything new. Most of the ones I read rehashed the same realistic formula that has held at least since Raskolnikov wandered through St. Petersburg’s dingy courtyards.
A McMansion? Really? Might this have more to do with which particular shelf you choose to browse?
And don’t forget that Korrektiv has a couple of novels, or one novel and one novella qua screenplay, available for your reading pleasure just as soon as you can tear your eyes away from this screen.
Oooh, I like feisty Quin! How’s that sequel coming?
It’s going alright. All though I can see the next Percy conference paper is going to take up whatever time and energy I have for writing. So we’ll see.
What about Gaga Confidential though? That’s what I’d like to know.
I don’t know if this figures into your ideas about her, but my concern is that she might be a sign of the end. And not in the way I would have expected … as for this latest batch of provacateurs, I don’t think Catholicity is of the least concern. Iggy Azalea? Ariana Grande? I guess Charlie XCX wears a plaid skirt sometimes, but that’s about all that’s left. And that’s probably Anglican anyway.
This culture has transgressed transgression, and it’s just a mess. We’re toast.
Gaga at least chased transcendent transgression. Now all we’ve got is Roman style debauchery. Yawn. Go ahead and grind, Miley. We’ve seen it all before.
So, Andrew Sullivan says that blogging is dead and now the novel is dead. Back to the grindstone for me.
Yeah, because over the last ten years or so, Sullivan has been right on the mark.
Yes, and what’s wrong with Raskolnikov anyway? Would that we had more good novels about Raskolnikov. Really, any good novel will do. And it’s not like movies, TV and idiot Twitter aren’t worst crap (limp, death dealing and self-congratulatory shit) than any decent novel. Je Suis Charlie? The problem is us.
More here:
Just have Raskolnikov wander through St Petersburg’s dingy courtyards in Onegin sonnet-stanzas. Problem solved.
(That previous comment was supposed to be in reply to Angelico: I mean the rest of the Crime and Punishment project.)
Yes, but where is the rest?
In the mind, as an expectation of things to come; see conf. 11.