I quite enjoy reading literary fiction but I have absolutely no love of the "literary" label. Labeling a book as "literary" often seems to be aimed more at the readers than the subject matter. Literary works are, presumably, of more worth than other fiction, and to describe a book as such is to bequeath it a certain kind of royalty and respect. But who makes that decision?
Okay, forget that. Think of it this way. People who are truly cool don’t describe themselves as such; other people to do it for them. Why? Well, for one, calling yourself cool is liable to get you a) laughed at, or b) put in the hospital. It depends on who you’re trying to impress. It’s like pop culture. Nobody predicts the stuff, it just happens. Marketing something as "literary" is the same as marketing something as "the next big thing" or "the latest fad." It can’t be done. It has to happen naturally, and if it does happen, the praise must always come from others.
This came to mind recently after reading the Publishers Weekly review of Andrew Pyper’s second novel, The Trade Mission. I have not read the book, but I read, and greatly enjoyed, Pyper’s first novel, Lost Girls, as well as his collection of short stories, Kiss Me. Pyper is a talented writer, but I really don’t like the way his publishers keep trying to market him as a "literary writer." I don’t like it because they are doing it with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer to the head. Personally I don’t think you can market someone as a literary writer; I think it is something that has to develop naturally, over time. To do so in a press release tends to put people on alert — Uh oh, the publisher is telling us that not only must we like this book, we must appreciate it, as well.
If the ad people at Pyper’s publishing company had only mentioned this once, I might not have said anything, but it was reading the aforementioned PW review that made me want to say something about it.
First, here is a piece on Pyper and Lost Girls from the magazine Quill & Quire:
Still, Pyper points out that Lost Girls owes more to Henry James than Stephen King, and he’s leery to label it a thriller. "Unfortunately, when most people use the word I think it means a ghetto for formulaic, often poorly written stuff," says Pyper. "If that’s the definition, I don’t think I’m really interested in participating." Pyper suggests that the t-word is especially loaded in the Canadian market. "You could say thriller in the United States or Britain, and that could mean William Trevor or it could mean pulp schlock. In Canada, there’s still a certain amount of ‘Oh, a thriller couldn’t possibly be literary."
And here is an excerpt from the PW review of The Trade Mission:
The ad copy on the back of the proofs for Pyper’s second novel (after Lost Girls) points out just what’s right, and what’s wrong, with the book: "The Trade Mission is a gripping, ingeniously plotted thriller with an underlying literary interest in social criticism…." The novel does grip, and while its plot-two young North American software entrepreneurs and their colleagues visiting Brazil are kidnapped by extortionists in the jungle, then escape for a chase-isn’t quite ingenious, it’s clever enough; so far so good. The problem is the "underlying literary interest in social criticism." One supposes the copywriter mentioned "literary" as a pointer to Pyper’s prose, which is lush and suffused with psychological insight, but which too often draws attention to itself at the expense of the story.
First of all, this is not a criticism of Pyper. I don’t how much he has to do with how his publishers market him, but I’d be willing to bet it isn’t much – and I doubt he wants to come off to his adoring public as yet another Canadian writer snoot (yes, it’s true, we’re somewhat known for them). Either way, it’s kind of sad — not to mention blatantly obvious, as it was pointed out by the PW reviewer — to see that Pyper and his publishers want people to know, they REALLY, REALLY want them to know, that Lost Girls is closer to Henry James than Stephen King, and that The Trade Mission is closer to Joseph Conrad than Michael Crichton. Because James and Conrad are — you guessed it — Literary Writers. But saying something doesn’t necessarily make it so. And when you drive it into people with that proverbial sledgehammer, they tend to balk at it or at least question it — why are the publishers so emphatic about describing Pyper as a "literary writer"? Shouldn’t his work speak for itself? And why does he seem so defensive about being compared to Stephen King or Michael Crichton? Is there something wrong with their work? And who is the ultimate judge of whether or not Pyper’s work is truly literary, anyway?
And perhaps most important of all: who cares?
I don’t know about you, but I could care less what they call his book — literary fiction, legal thriller, tuna on whole wheat — as long as it has a good story. When people recommend books to their family and friends, they don’t say Oh, the story was really contrived, the characters were completely unlikable, but the literary themes! Oh, God, the literary themes!!
On the other hand, here’s an excerpt from an interview with Pyper talking about his reading tastes while he was still writing The Trade Mission:
I think that a lot of the work that I tend not to seek out for myself is that highly rarified ‘literary’ writing where bugger-all happens. The literature of non-event and pure insularity. I really don’t need anymore insight into wandering about. I like plot. I like stuff happening. As obvious as that would seem, it’s not especially fashionable. Plotlessness seems to be ubiquitous, at least in Canada. A lot of my contemporaries seem very interested in highly fractured post-structuralist forms; they’re aggressively anti-plot.
It seems to me that the publishers (or their ad department, at least) are more concerned about these things than the people who actually read the books. Pyper is doing very well and I don’t think it’s because his readers feel he is somehow a more respectful author than King or Crichton. I think they read his books because Pyper is a talented writer who tells good stories. And all that aside, I like to think that the man himself is more concerned with other things that what other people think of him — like writing his next book, for instance.
That’s all any writer should be concerned about, anyway.
- Currently reading: The Wildfire Season, by Andrew Pyper
