A review of The Novel:
A Biography by Michael Schmidt (Belknap Press, 2014, $39.95, 1,200 pages)
Such
a large book invites comparison to a doorstop. But you can avoid the weight by
reading it electronically, as I did. The larger question: Is it worth the time
it takes to wade through 1,200 pages? The short answer is yes; the water is
fine, and there is much to enjoy, that is, if you love novels.
Schmidt calls his book “a biography,” thus
treating the novel as having a life of its own, a life that spans almost eight
centuries, beginning with “De proprietatibus rerum” (On the Properties of
Things) by Bartholomeus Anglicus, around 1240.
While he touches on novels in other languages
(translated into English), his focus is on novels written in English. He also
chooses not to include comments by critics, unless those critics are themselves
novelists. “This book … is told mainly by novelists and through novels.”
And while a 1,200-page book may seem exhaustive,
there are simply too many novels written to cover them all, though Schmidt
comes closer than anyone I know of. How then to choose which ones to include?
He writes, “A sense of canon, though not a stable one, governs my approach.”
While
it follows a chronological arc, The Novel is organized thematically, and
within each theme are novelists from across the centuries. For example, under the
chapter “Impersonation,” Schmidt joins Daniel Defoe with Truman Capote and J.M.
Coetzee, and under “Braveries” he combines Robert Louis Stevenson with Bruce
Chatwin.
Schmidt
says he has tried to avoid an ordering that insists on geographical, ideological,
cultural or sexual zoning. Instead he has followed a “committed curiosity.”
His
assessments of writers and novels abound. For example, in a discussion of Jane
Austen’s novels, he writes: “Of all the novels, ‘Emma’ is formally the most
satisfactory.”
He
writes this about Zora Neale Hurston’s “Their Eyes Were Watching God”: “Her
book is a dialogue between two dictions, the formal diction of a writer and the
informal diction of her speech, an uneasy bilingualism that many modern writers
practice as a result of ethnicity, class, location, intimacy.”
Sometimes
Schmidt frustrates when he references a work, then fails to explain his point,
as when he notes that Peter Carey’s Jack Maggs is “on the button” regarding
his interpretation of Great Expectations but doesn’t say how.
He
also offers general guidelines about what makes some works better than others.
“Goodness is not much fun in fiction,” he writes, “its patience and resignation
leave the reader impatient.”
While
Schmidt covers a plethora of writers, including many popular ones (yes, Stephen
King is here), he keeps that canon in the back of his mind. He notes that The
Adventures of Huckleberry Finn is “regarded by some as the, if not the great,
American novel.” Later he calls Ragtime “the closest thing to that chimera
‘the great American novel’ that I have encountered.”
Schmidt
calls the life of the novel in English “a complex and ragged story. It develops
in contrary directions, it becomes almost impossible to hold the limbs
together, each with its own impulses and intentions, struggling with the rest.”
He notes trends, such as modernism and postmodernism, and places writers in
those and other categories.
Keeping
this historical development in mind, he writes that Hawthorne, among American
writers, is the one “who first creates credible characters of both sexes, who
can write children and old people, and who has developed a sense of good and
evil.”
Schmidt’s
breadth of knowledge is astounding. He not only seems to have read the
thousands of works mentioned in this tome but to have studied them closely as
well.
Nevertheless,
most readers will have quibbles about his choices of who to mention and how
much to write about a certain author. Like all of us, Schmidt has his
favorites.
He
gives more space to William Dean Howells than to Tolstoy or Dostoevsky. He
gushes over Martin Amis but completely ignores Denis Johnson, Louise Erdrich or
Alice McDermott, among others.
He
also mentions many writers I’d never heard of and offers insights into others
that make me want to explore their works.
The
novel is an expansive and personal medium. It’s a place to explore new worlds,
encounter new ideas and be challenged to change our lives.
Schmidt
quotes Ford Maddox Ford: “With the novel you can do anything: you can inquire
into every department of life, you can explore every department of the world of
thought.”
Reading The Novel is a huge investment of time, but for those who love literature and
wish to expand their acquaintance with it, that investment is well worthwhile.
Schmidt’s “biography” is a major achievement, and we are in his debt.
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