Where You Go When You Want to Think

This site has excerpts of my novel-in-progress, Hot Love on the Wing, as well as thoughts on post postmodernism, avant garde art, literature, music, and the community of artists in Bushwick and New York.
Showing posts with label Moby Dick. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Moby Dick. Show all posts

Thursday, February 24, 2011

The Best American Writer-Ever

In the realm of classic literature, there are a few American names that spring to mind. Let us proceed chronologically.

19th Century: Poe, Twain or Melville are the only ones who stand a chance of being called the greatest American writer. Huck Finn is one of the most influential books in our history. Moby Dick alone means the latter has a pretty good shot.

20th Century: Modernists: Hemingway, Fitzgerald, Faulkner. I am partial to Hemingway. And although Fitzgerald wrote the best American novel of the 20th century (The Great Gatsby), Tender is the Night is his only other work that can be called truly excellent. Both Faulkner and Hemingway won the Nobel Prize in Literature, but I would argue that Hemingway did more to change the face of the American novel. His lapidary style in The Old Man and the Sea is Biblical. We could also mention Salinger and Bellow in this discussion.

Postmodernists: I have ranked the following authors in tiers since not enough time has passed to truly measure their greatness:

In the top tier: Pynchon, Updike, Roth. Gravity's Rainbow is arguably as devastating to fiction as was Moby Dick. Updike wrote a lot, but he will always be remembered for the wonderful Rabbit Tetralogy. And Roth is similarly masterful, and has a number of novels that could be called masterpieces. Toni Morrison is also a contender, she won the Nobel Prize in 1993.

Second Tier: McCarthy, DeLillo, Mailer. These guys have all written great novels, but The Naked and the Dead is a war novel and too limited in scope. White Noise is a contender. And I'm reading Blood Meridian right now. It's hard to assess authors who are still producing, but if I missed anyone, let me know. And feel free to make your case for your favorite.

Friday, November 5, 2010

Hapax Legomenon, David Byrne, and Hemingway's Love

Hapax legomenon. I learned this phrase the other day. It is an instance of a word occurring once in a language, the work of an author, or a single text. It’s a very pretentious phrase but one that has great import for writers. This fact has been motivating me to keep writing: 44% of Melville’s words in Moby Dick are hapax legomena. That means that almost half of the seven hundred pages contain words  that sonofabitch never used again in the book. I guess that's what happens when you are a scribner for eight hours a day; you write one of the best books of all time. I'm scribing six hours a day, maybe mine will be half as good.

I’ve been going a little bit crazy lately, just a tad. I think I’m going to start wearing oversized suits more, for one, and living deeper in my brain, for another, with only David Byrne to help me stop making sense.

I finished For Whom the Bell Tolls the other night. It moved me to tears. Some books you know you’re going to love as soon as you start reading them and you don’t want them to end. Some books are good, and get better in your memory when you’ve finished them. Some books are a drag and you want to be done with them already. This book I knew I was going to love, found myself wishing it was over at times, and then at the end felt it to be justifiably his masterpiece. It made me better understand the importance of loving life.

Yours forever and always,
Daniel Adler